I am a crayon...

-- I am a crayon, used by many.... unfortunately the more I am used the quicker I disintigrate. I am part of a famil of many, I create peices of art. For I am just black. Used as an outline, a smudge or a filler. No child wants to pick up a black crayon and start drawing. I am dull, frigid and alone. For I am not even a colour I am a shade.

Not In Love

Let the sunlight in
You might never get this chance again
So take a deep breath and hold it in
You should take a picture-Cause you might never see me again
I said take a deep breath and hold it in

Because you're not in love
There's no way you possibly could
You shouldn't even like this
You just like the way it looks
If this is the end, and what's done is done
Then I wont have to keep hurting anyone

So let the wind take its course over everything
You have no control when it's out of your hands
You should take a minute for it all to settle in
I said take a deep breath and hold it in

Because you're not in love
There's no way you possibly could
You shouldn't even like this
You just like the way it looks
If this is the end, and what's done is done
Then I wont have to keep hurting anyone

Let the sunlight in
You better get as much as you can
Cause you might never feel the same again
And take the wind, let it blow away everything
I said take a deep breath and hold it in

Because you're not in love
There's no way you possibly could
You shouldn't even like this
You just like the way it looks
If this is the end, and what's done is done
Then I wont have to keep hurting anyone 

... give it up

It's always been based upon a boy, a guy, a man but never myself. I turn back time and pages, just to scribble in a moment with them. My schedule is erased, and their names are inscribed all over the surfaces my life consumes.
What if my name was chiseled on-top of a gravestone, would it matter then- would all my wasted efforts be looked upon...
A name, then another, and so forth- just a number and a tear. Each was said to last, said to feel good, said to care- but look at me; I am just a number to them as well, a name, a girl, some chick from back in the day.

I wish I could say with time things change, but honestly time makes things worse... I don't think I can physically/mentally/emotionally, erase and rip out the pages of my life and have them blank. Maybe one day someone will fill me in-mark my name on a date, and remember me as a celebration.

But to me all thats left is the remainder of the days, and which name gets penciled where...

picture face...

I see you constantly staring, those beady eyes seem to be fixated-in on one spot, the same spot, and it never changes. The melons which are ever encoded with blues, greens and browns are covered by a white glaze, I become hungry-only to realize I would blinde you for a taste. Those freckles make me want to play connect the dots with my knife, an carve away at what is left of you, only to re-create a master piece. It makes me twist my head ever so slightly to the right, waiting for the right moment to make my move...

It...

She lay there, almost lifeless to his eyes. The flesh on her body seemed to melt away as if there was nothing but bones left. Resembling tiny white picketed fences, but they seemed to be twisted and tattered, they were far from being perfectly in line. Gluing her eyelids to her top brown bone, just to remain awake, her slumber was meant to be permanent. It was suppose to happen overnight but this had been going on for many years now... everyone told her she needed to believe in something, but frankly she had, but just like all things in life they seemed to let her down and be seen as a disappointment.

Again there he stood perched over her decomposing body, his mouth seemed to want to consume her but she shook with fright. His icy touch froze her body, she wasn’t able to move a morsel and he took her over. The nail polish started to melt away as the sweat landed on each finger as she tried to claw herself from his grasp.

The bicycle she once road now lies faceless on the burnt grass; the cancerous rust has taken over it, and the once blue coating has now turned into a red puddle. The wheels have turned upside down, and who ever choose to ride, would only fall to their feet. Both tiny handle bars were now covered in moss and soot, and would sting each tiny cut on your palms. HELP, she spells out with each tiny incision she makes. He once felt so comforting to her but now she turns to the affair she made her own.  

Her childhood was an invisible nightmare, one she seemed to be playing on her own. Her skin began to grow back again strong and thick, this time not letting anyone or anything threw... he thought he had concurred her, yet he was just making her weaker by the minute. She was just a toy, used and thrown into the box once he was done with her, and she would rot away as she would back in the day. The once perfect Barbie had been encased for so long, Ken forgot about her and the next best thing would come and find her.

She lay there on the bed, as she had every night but this time she wasn’t going to let it happen again. The bicycle had been renewed and was ready to be ridden off into the foggy distance. The knife stood still on the nightstand and no longer would it be making incisions in her wrist, but the new owner was about to receive an unwanted and surprising gift...

Is death the question or the answer?

SO today you died, and I didn’t? How did that work out? So sick you were, and so sick I am. I am so sorry for showing you all my misery, but today is for you and not me… you once told me “
You have wings of STEEL. No one's really sure why, but at this point in your life you've shut off emotion to the point of extreme apathy. You are cold and indifferent much of the time...or perhaps you're just a good pretender. Next to impossible to get close to, even those who do never see the real you. It's entirely possible that YOU don't even know the real you. You have a certain fascination or attraction to destruction on a massive scale - disasters, perhaps even death or the concept of the Apocalypse. Because you hold so much inside, one day you're simply going to snap. Then the mask will fall away, and your true wings will be revealed. Until then you will deal with whatever comes your way in icy bitter silence and acceptance. On the positive side, you are fearless and immeasurably strong - not much can crack through your defences. You intrigue people, who can't help but wonder why you're the way you are. A loner and one who spends much of their time brooding and contemplating life and death - you are a time bomb waiting to explode and create some destruction of your own… but I still love you.”

you wanted me to write a blog for/about you, here it is....

"you don't throw a whole life away because it's banged up a little."

everyone deserves a second chance. -JB

They say everyone deserves a second chance, I think I have used mine up long ago... yet people still keep granting me them. I know personally all I have hurt over the many years, and words cant express how sorry I really am... You see/well I am not sure what it is, but I have this nact to know how to emotionally hit someone, a charge that is sent through their body like a beam of lightening striking down on them.
People tell me I am capable of being this awesome person, yet I wont allow myself this sort of gratitude.

It's taken me a while to see my own self destruction, but along the way I have seen the damage I have really done, it has all come back to me regardless if that isn't my intention. Karma's a bitch right?! I have won many battles, and wars, but tragedy has swept those times- I have lost everyone/everything close to me, and it's taken me this long to smarten up and say "what the hell am I doing?!"

To those who have been there and left, those who I  have yet to meet, and those who have stuck by long enough to tell me what an idiot I am... Thank you-  I wont let who ever else is out there down, just have some faith!

sometimes all someone needs is a second chance..... here goes nothing!