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ms. oblivion

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[30 Jul 2015|09:44pm]
What you said that night
Stuck in my head.
I remember, I thought we'd be dead.
We made it and I can't forget, What you said. What you said.
Sticking to me, no recall,
But what you said, my head, my head.
Misplaced the words
Yet they're over read.
In my head, my head, in my head.

Hey! Now yer dead.
The anticipated slaughter
TheY all called for.
Dumb motherfuckers
You don't know a thing
Other than pulling that string
Follow, repeat, expel.
Whore, bar cream,
Zero imagining.
Imagine life being,
Stuck in a head,
Forever not dead.
That thing you said.
Keeps me.

if you want to know
I am.
I am exactly what you thought, all those things
I am also
Something else.
What I see in me is what I know.
What I do makes me glow.

guilt erases the creativity.
joey, that you?

[08 Jan 2011|03:37am]

guilt. overwhelming guilt. both valid and whimsical. guilty of lying, adhering, stealing. guilty of caring, helping, healing. doing wrong for the right and right for the wrong. i wish i could tell you how i feel the same. it might be different, but i know the battle, the shame, the endless game. instead, i drink your ashes.
joey, that you?

[25 Jul 2005|12:49pm]
my music churns in broth and battle. no one will bring me down but death himself.

lucky daisy!
you found your crazy
harsh hitting, broth spitting
watch her slither and slide
karate chopping with
mystical hair
and limp arms.
joey, that you?

[23 Jul 2005|10:29am]
she kept herself clean and unshaken,
or maybe i'm mistaken,
but searching in the mirror for scars has returned no pleasure.

now sorrow stands in my kitchen, frying tasteless eggs in hope and fear (more fear) of never hearing his name again. I pick and I pluck and I suck like a whore in honor of 2 gods who have exposed my veins. the sizzle of the pan, the hunger of the man, it's a spike in my frenzied heart. the blood runs thick glazing tits and thighs with touches soft. and i flap my bird arms wildly in caustic ritual, one with little or no faith.

no faith you say. no faith?

no no, it's true. there are only words and water. seemingly clear, yet deep and sinuous, dancing and entwining. always moving. always changing. only embracing when swallowed and choked upon. with this comes tears and loss of breath. possibly even death. who wants that, who wants?

me. not you. me.

it's a secret best kept so. lack of faith is a disease to please anyone who is close. it sucks, it spreads, it oozes in juices from the most virgin parts. my parts are tainted and fragile. older then i. i am the crust of the softest whitest bread. without faith, my faith, your juices may stain, will stain my best pink dress.
joey, that you?

[18 Jul 2005|02:22am]
oh infernal world
your mouth forms Os
around my pulsating flesh.
with veins thick and exposed
i glide
as a nightwalker,
bound yet brazen
in the heat
of your closed arms.
my legs follow feet
tiptoeing through landscapes of
malice and selflessness.
in mountains
an angel's wings
squeal in unison
with a song
uttered upon chapped
fated lips.
heads do wonder, wander
always where angels roam.
well, maybe not always,
but at least where
heavy weather revels loudest.
sonic and booming,
what else could ease
the pain of silent whispers.
joey, that you?

[04 Jul 2005|09:02am]
menopausal twists
or aggravated fists.
may those who serve
your languid dreams
walk through open doors
and impassion what is not there.
with your prescence
warm juices flow
through heightened veins
simmering the unease
of stress not worthy days.
i could eat raw sugar
fill myself with
rough sweet grains
gasping for breath and water
i will stand high above the booths
and bar cream
as a syringe
in the unloved's heart.
i am no god, nor a saint,
nor anyone of matter.
simply you who
is not willing
to exist.
in blood and broth
i will accept my vices
hug them fondly
as i once did a small wooden peg
in a farm with no closure.
i hear his voice
soft and warm with cynical tones.
how they ease my motherly head.
joey, that you?

[04 Jul 2005|08:58am]
i love you for seeing through the budding trees
and the unkempt weeds.
i love you for being a boy
when the others pretend to be men.
i love you for accepting the truth
even when the truth is not there.
joey, that you?

[04 Jul 2005|08:47am]
here come the gods
in striped leotards and
ruffled hemlines.
here come the saints
with glorified words
and colorful paints,
their pockets full with
flower shaped lint
and, i am a tit in the bar
shining under dim lights.
begging for forgiveness by
simply being alone.
because i am no god, nor saint.
so many friends you've made
from a glance or a stare
or quite frankly,
your red hair.
but to keep is to hold
and there is no gold in
the thickness of mystery
that hides nothing.
you give and you give
exactly what you are
and yet they always want more.
joey, that you?

[30 Jun 2005|06:22pm]
oh horrific horde
please do stand
your newest member
(though no virgin to the matter)
has hulled her shawl,
lavish and warm,
in honor of
mr. oblivion!

i could squirm away in hasty strides...eyeballing wishes of thunderous storms. from the sky you may have fell as orchids wild and free. a premonition of my disposition. receive and leave. remember it like a molestation that somehow felt better then good.

but my wrist is moving at a hustler's pace. i asked for this. i asked for it. it's a passion that must live because it is the one and only. and to slither would be to slide down a dismal slope of cookie cutter dreams and endless bar cream. more importantly it would be to know nothing of your meaning

and as bad as it may be, it's only in context. it's only in the eyes of the wounded. because the truth of it all is i found something of virtue to transpire words from lower class wounds. what's bad for you, is not necessarily for me. what love is to you, is not necessarily for me. there's no question in sacred love, only validation. if i spread, it's not just for him, but for you. my joy will ooze from open wounds into you, healing me and embracing you ten fold.
joey, that you?

[17 Jun 2005|09:39pm]
settling in with various misgivings....

unproportioned smiles
legs stretching miles
thighs spread wide to show
all the dilapitated shelves
holding ornate creatures
visible to noone.
in realizing the unity
of drawn blood and beauty
home becomes that of
and forgiving is the only
reason to be.
life has become what it
yet with an artistic front.
being far from that
which created me
has settled an unusual
self appreciation.
is it you that knocked
upon my wooden doors?
is it you that stole my gravy
then trickled it down
my wobbling head?
is it you that stole the thunder
and transformed it to
a dark dismal cloud?
or was it him?
or was it always you?
joey, that you?

[31 Jan 2005|12:53pm]
the happier i become, the more toxic substances i consume. have i taught myself that slow, drawn out suicide is the way of life, my life. am i happier because living on the edge of death is some sick sort of thrill ride for me. is it that suicide itself has brought me closer to people and my inner self. lose it, lose them, lose yourself.

why didn't she see what direction i was walking then. why doesn't she see it now. i can't pay my bills, she cries. i continuously shove poison in my mouth and she does nothing.

i'm sick. i'm a cold hearted bitch. i give in a way that you never see me take. my tongue wags and words come out, words that form sentences that were created by me, yet i don't know who i am. i hurt people and they know it, but somehow they always forget. one day someone won't forget. and i just know it will happen to be THE one person who i need to forget all the things i do or say wrong. you.

love is the truest form of life. people communicating, understanding, accepting, giving, so on and so forth. it is truly what the goodness of life is all about. i want it, i need it, i have it. but i don't know if i deserve it. i don't know if he deserves me.
joey, that you?

[23 Dec 2004|06:55pm]
i love the reasons you love me. sometimes, it even makes me love myself.
joey, that you?

[19 Oct 2004|11:02am]
either things are spiraling downward in my life or i'm settling into a long depression, caused by nothing but the blurry visions and thoughts in my own head. my life is more stable and fulfilling then ever, yet i'm constantly trembling with the anxiety that flows through my body. because of this, the little everyday nuisances take me aback, suffocate my thoughts even more, and bring tears, anger, or aggressive physicalities that i don't understand. i want to talk about it, but i don't know what to say or i don't know anyone who could even begin to understand. mostly, right now, i just need a big warm body to slowly melt away the fragile icicle that i am, rather then slimply tearing me down from my homey little rooftop and stomping me in two.

i never believed in marriage, or at least i thought i didn't. now i realize, it's not that i didn't believe, it's that i believed in it so much. how could it ever be possible for someone like me. someone who always scrapes away the shell searching for the hidden core only to find she hates the core even more then the obvious.

the future is far too big to visualize clearly. people are far too big to visualize clearly. but sometimes you have to say when and love like a brother, a sister, a mother. accept what you know is true, hold it close to heart and just fucking accept it because you know what silence creeps behind the quirks and aging flesh. and they know too, yet they love, they love you so fucking hard. that is true love, and love is life to me. knowing that someone wants to share, comfort, confide, laugh, simply live with you unconditionally for the remainder, well there's really nothing better then that to me.

i have never felt or had this sort of "brotherly" love with a guy who could legally stick a dick in me. until now.

i never thought i could. now i can with this person. it's only a question of if he wants the same.

i don't want to be a nuisance or a bus ride to the next school. my annoying questions and proddings followed by silence or stutters leave me feeling this way at(most) times

and just remember is not what you said, what you did or did not do. it is what she instilled in me day after day when she cried and she prayed. in tears and fiery fists, her mouth smothered shut by her own instillers, her slits of eyes wet and gluey. always always, day after day, night after night, fight after fight, sunday mornings and brown derby outings. i am only a child who can sit and watch and learn and pray that i will help her by never being her one day. i am forever and always that child. she is my core. he is the shell that sometimes makes it hard to see.

i'm glad there are girls like jenna in this world. a bad morning was turned better from her simple voice message. sitting in her car behind another car, the license plate read "white magic". it made her laugh and she thought it might do the same for me. it did. thank you. i look forward to being closer then a white magic phone call in the future.

amusements. the lady behind the counter at 7-11 inquires in a thick accent
"do you like these?"
"do i like these?..." i stare at my big gulp, bottled water, and box of tampons on the counter.
"yes, do you like?" fingers the rectangular blue box
"um, bloody underwear or a diaper? sure, i love em!" well not exactly
"hmmmm, i should try"
my head nods
"how do they work"
"um....." and so i teach the bliss of cotton and cardboard insertion while 2 very dude-like dudes pull corn dogs from the rotating oven.

fun stuff.
1 whoa|joey, that you?

[13 May 2004|11:09pm]
3 nights of freedom is the best a girl could ask for right now. it's been quiet these past few days. my music, the smells of my food, talking at a normal pitch without a care, talking to toby, who i've come to love even with all the battle wounds he's caused. as scared as i am about the days, i can't fucking wait to be a real person in a habitat i choose to live in.
joey, that you?

[21 Apr 2004|03:42pm]
being on display always makes me tremble, though no one would ever guess so if they didn't know so. i never choose my words wisely. i never think before i speak. i just do. sometimes it's a gift. sometimes it's a problem. tis why i've been sticking to handwritten entries rather then this. yet i'm always drawn to the feel of the keys as the words form from clouds. i like typing. it's the only thing i learned in high school other then how to give good head and drink excessively.

another night with ben. i like ben because he's goofy and spontaneous. because he's completely oblivious to being the outrageously weird guy that he is. because he believes in ghosts and astral projections and i don't. because he still tells me about ghosts and astral projections wholeheartedly even when i roll my eyes and smile sideways. i'm annoyed with ben lately, as in the past 3 months, because all he speaks of is heartbreak and fucking. fucking fucking. timmy timmy timmy. fucking. timmy. fucking timmy. our adventures in portland are no longer about cocktails and conversation, but instead focus on who the lucky (or not so) babe will be tonight and can she, will she, will anyone ever replace the irreplaceable, always lovable timmy. it always ends in wounded one-sided talk. or two sided if i decide to open my mouth once again to say get over it, you have to get over it. i used to be nicer. now i'm not.

moments in the evening i'd rather not forget.....
*the >65 year old granny singing fight for your right to party at karoke.
*seeing j's shoes underneath the bathroom stall, then hearing her laugh at the message scotty and i left on her phone, her not knowing i was behind the closed door.
*j's confessions to getting horny over dogs fucking.
*a pleasant suprise offered by suzy who i ultimately enjoyed a conversation with, one that lasted for more then the length of a bar line.
*finding the unicorn in windy leaves on the side of rose and raindrop. i can't believe how obvious it was and that i've never seen it before. if i were 18 again and tripping on mushrooms i totally would have pissed myself.
joey, that you?

[24 Mar 2004|02:04am]
i know. i know. but as i walk up the steps, i feel your presence the same way i would as if you were there. a longing. my hands reaching to touch you. in other times, the skin is there rubbing against my own, but never touching back. it's always me touching you, me reaching for you. i want it so bad. i want what i give. i ooze the smell of rotten milk. i am rotting. my cunt is rotting away into something useless when i've wanted it to be more useful then ever. who will i be.... the sex i can't give.....the intelligence i don't have. you are young and i am old. you are learning what i've already been told. i will deteriorate into nothing and you will think you are sad until another takes the sadness away. i am only a lesson where you are simply a reason and i don't know how to keep that going on without feeling guilty.

maybe i'm fucking with my own mind. i don't know. but i've always been right in the past. and without your acceptance to something i know you believe in, i can't believe in us. even if we are the only thing i've ever really believed in. if it doesn't happen, it never will. and with the way my life leads, the way my cunt rots, i can't imagine ever being accepted by you. i don't want to be alone and i won't be. whether you're here or not. i won't be. you are the best, and i swear you are the last.
joey, that you?

[15 Jan 2004|02:01am]
after 2 weeks and 72 resumes......i got a job, a i live in the real fucking world job!

and not just any job, but a job where i can use my true to life skills that make me HAPPY! holy fucking shit, there is some sort of god. doh!

but anyhoo, you take the good for the bad right? because it seems i could never have a 100% enjoyable life, who could? no no. the number one thing that i've attached myself has become a routine. and it's really pissing me off. what do you do with something that you love more then anything else in the world when the mystery is gone and all actions speak before words? what used to be a year and a half has become 2 years. and what i used to lay my head back in sleepy humor is a serious thing now. i want to sleep and wake up on may 25th, if only to know what the real deal is, because until then it's all a game to me and i'm tired of fucking playing games. this is the first time that i've said i want something so ridiculous, the first time that i've thought, if i can't have this i'll walk away to be alone because basically i am alone if it's not exactly what i want. the first time i watched others accept offers that allure me but never quite fit my missing pieces and wonder if, hey!? is that really what it is that i'm looking for, it's just never happened and i'm pissed off about it?! it's happened, oh it's fucking happened, yet i am bonnie and you are boris creeping up on me slowly with heavy frightened fingers. your words make no sense, yet i'm still rockin' and you're still loving it. duh. you're loving makes me want to drink, because when i drink i forget what's real and what's real is the fact that no matter what you feel, what i feel, it could all change and i'll be back to the first day. it's funny and sad. the happier i am, the more i want to drink. shouldn't it be the opposite?
9 whoas|joey, that you?

[12 Jan 2004|02:55am]
finally a sign. the pessimist in me has disapeared and that is the only thing that scares me about tomorrow. you fucking optimists. think the best and you shall receive. i'm sure naivety is grand, but it's not in my fucking bible. my confidence scares me. it's been awhile since my face has formed a genuine smile though and that alone is enough to make everything ok.

i once loved biblical proof of ufos. but after seeing them last night, they remained like every other band i see these days....the hard is never hard enough, the soft not soft enough, the emotion not emotional enough, so on and so forth. music has taken the place of love for me. where i once found total satisfaction, i am left dry. where i once layed dry i am sopping wet. everybody has dreams. when one dream is met another arises. i only have to remember that no matter how miserable things seem, i am living someones dream no matter how detached it is.
2 whoas|joey, that you?

[19 Dec 2003|12:45pm]
would it have been different if it weren't so sudden? i doubt it. still i wish i had some time to absorb what was going on. i can't believe it all happened within 2 days, i can't fucking believe it.

i love you more then anything. i hope you understood that even if you are just a kitty (that's them saying that, you stupid fuckers, not me) it's hard for me to feel emotions strongly, but for you i felt a true love. i wish you could have understood that it was the hardest thing i ever had to do in my life. maybe you did, i don't know. every morning i awake, the first thing i expect to see is your face. i search for it around corners only to realize i'll never see it again, other then behind a glass plate. everyday i walk up those steps, i'm searching in your spots, wondering why you're not greeting me. when i'm working, i hear the patter and click of your little feet against the floor, but it's not you, it's just my imagination. i'm sorry squeekers, i'm so sorry, i wish i could have helped you and not had to kill you. sometimes money can buy love, unfortunately i have no money.

i always thought i'd be the girl with a cat, but right now i can't imagine any other taking your place.
8 whoas|joey, that you?

[24 Oct 2003|08:34pm]
my mind shifts like your sleeping body. eyes bulging, i choose to stare at your honest dreaming face. not that there's a facade in daylight hours. but there is something that holds you back. like every one of us, something that is only present in sleeping faces.

i've never been without question.
and i never will be without question.

but i must say that the questions there are only a flick of a cigarette. the head burns then dissipates into a dirty ashen thought. i truly can't imagine a better choice in my life no matter what lives i've changed and rearranged. i hope you know that without me saying a word. i hope it shows in my sleeping face.
1 whoa|joey, that you?

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