Shine on, fools

"My walls, she shattered them," you say bitterly, your eyes shining in the dark.You're like the bird with the broken wing on Acid.
"I'm out."
I smile.
You think you're so fly with your razor edged voice and your emotion erased heart but I've been there before. Its not easy. Happiness never is.
But then again, they say you don't know pleasure without pain.
Stupid fucking game.
Let's lose.

Match-stick-burn

The smoke claws at my hair like wisps of guilt, it swirls around the hem of my jeans and trails up my skin. I watch it at play. I don't do it, I only watch. But sometimes, that's enough.
Sometimes, not choosing is a choice.

Give up, Give in, same old ' and they lived happily ever after'.
I've always wanted to know, what happens next?

I could be you.
I could have your story.
I could have had your story.

But I choose to make my own, with matchstick figures and bloodstained fingers.
All I need is a pen to draw lines.

Awake, Asleep, Awake.

The cuccoon cracks and my blood seeps through the shattered edges staining the white. Change swirls into into my spine and I stiffen. He is quiet at first but He feeds on my fear and before I have time to put on my mask, I am His.
There is no going back.

Survival is a lucid dream.
Sex is under-rated.
Drugs call on Denial.
Drama is the interlude to your melody, to your rap, to the hurt in your eyes.
Alcohol helps you remember, alcohol helps you forget.
Everybody lies.

I'm back to closing my eyes to bring in the light.
"But mama, everybody's doing it."

Confessions of an Escape Artist

"You disgust me,"
Your voice echoes through the time zones in my head and I crouch over the toilet bowl and retch. I retch until my soul has purged itself of the scars you drew. I retch until tears and sweat mingle lost down my face. I retch until all I can see is spinning white tiles.
My reflection spits rejection and together, we cry.

"When was the last time you finished something you started?"
"You don't call, you don't text, you've forgotten how to smile, are we dead yet?"
"It's only a book N, it's only a book. It won't bite. If it does, bite back!"
"Move!"
"She's the princess of the house, can't even move to get herself a glass of water, our pretty little invalid..right girls?"
"Sorry, you're just not..right for the job."
"Why can't you be more like..."
"Do you want to go out tonight? What do you want to do then? WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

If I start spinning, will the earth stop?
It's about time, don't you think?