As I give myself to thee

Tiny hands. I held him, cupped in my hands for a moment. My baby.
Pieces of flesh drop from me every day, a walking corpse. I have nothing, I am nothing. Every step a flash of pain.
Truth, lie, love, whore, cunt, metal heart shaped trunk box.
People circling me, rushing too fast.
I know I won't see you again. When I wake up covered in cold sweat, with your voice in my ear and my dead baby's cry weighting heavy on me, I can tell, you were never here.
I am hardcore. Underneath the blood there is so much filth, a fallen angel who came too close to the sun and had her wings burnt. An abandoned baby, I close my eyes. Open my eyes. Grab the knife, slish slash, get the scissors, start to cut, zig zig zig zag, blood comes out, covers me, my drug, my ally, black dirty blood, like my womb, my dry dead death womb. I choke on me, I walk these streets, fake smile white teeth, high heels as my move my hips to seduce, to play. While I fuck, salt in my lips, my eyes wide open fixed on the roof, on the wall, anywhere to stay away.
Morning blood, lips, cunt and ass. Bruises as a whole. I walk with my head up high, I've defeated them all. I've got what I want.
I am a little less me, but I never really liked myself that much.
I kneel and I start to scream. My nails dig in my flesh and I mutter my everyday crux.
I'll soon die, I'll soon no longer see another day.
i will soon cease to be.

Post

So beautiful, my love makes me smile. We hold hands and we laugh. We live on our bubble, away from the world, not thinking of tomorrow or yesterday. Just thinking of us.

Both hands

Dark is the place where our house is in. Our bedrooms look to opposite directions.

One looks east, the other west. Our eyes fixed on the horizon that blind extends within our selves. If only we could just take away our gaze away from the window and walk towards the door.

Dark is the shadow that seems to have taken hold of our hearts. A ghost floating unwelcome after our every step. Sometimes it’s dressed in red rage, sometimes in blue sadness, sometimes, it’s just a cold dark night.

As the night goes on, the sky covers with stars, with moons and suns from far away, none of them sheltering us.

I've cried while covered in blood, each new cut another day I've let you live. But I can't escape my own death. In order to save you, to save us, I must go. Into the light away from your embrace, away from what could've been.

As the illness comes again

I am not perfect.
Please forgive me, because I'm not perfect.
I've hurt people. I hurt you many years ago, I hurt you just a couple of seconds ago.
I forgive you. I think I am ready to forgive you.
Because I really need to let you go. I need you to be dead. Completely dead.
I want to.
I demand it. I've already paid my share of pain. Now just let me go.
Please just let me go.
I am ready to go.
Please.

The last unicorn

"Where have you been? Damn you, where have you been?! Where were you twenty years ago? Ten years ago? Where were you when I was new…? How dare you come to me now, when I am THIS!”
Molly Grue

Caught in time

Are you still coming here, lurking in?

The game's afoot.

Smiling, chest pain, the medicine is finally kicking in. And I've done something stupid. But I can't help me smiling. Doctor tricked me, but at least the pain is gone for now, and that beautiful writing sends me to bed with peace in my heart.
Far away. Night covers me and her mistress I am.

The ghost of us

A little knock on the door. Footsteps outside.

You don't know what pain or love mean. You just know the sound of your name.

Y la resina acumulada en mis venas me convierte en una muñeca de horror, monstruo destinado a atraer a los espectadores de este circo sin nunca percibir simpatía.

Blood, guts, spit and death live in my dreams. The promise of prosperity still being unfulfilled. The phoenix flies away with lies on its feathers. With my name underneath.

Porque una sola de tus lágrimas en mi mano no es igual a los gritos de miles de almas pidiendo lo que a tí se te ha dado natural. Porque tú nunca vivirás ni sabrás lo que es la vida que te despierta a mitad de la noche. Porque you get to move on, while I just die.

So i am tearing up my costume tonight and coming through your dreams and tell you I love you.
And then I am killing you, while my blood covers all traces of what was meant to be.

And then I will wake up, and I'll have to face you and go to work and smile and go on.
Day after day, knowing you are nowhere.

I am still pain.

Winter and blood tales

Fucking lost fucking pissed off. What does to take to keep you happy white happy trendy people.
I've lost two great friend this years, both of were amazing and i just want to hear their voices for on more last time. An you people worry about so stupid thins. In your pampered life, where nothing ever happens to you. My scars, come from a place of fear and hurt and pain.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/theobserver/2011/sep/17/sebastian-junger-war-film-afghanistan

The other one I believe is happy, the ocean swept away his bones, made him a manmeird.
I miss you guys. Please let me know somehow that something will be right.
LoveM

Caught by my reflection

Blood running through my legs, I just sat down and cry.

Wet pages

Cry until my eyes dry out.
Cry 'till the morning
Can Neil Diamond come and sing dry your eyes for me?
I wish for a phone call.
I wish, just wish

Dead.
Corpse without a name. Motionless limbs spread over the bed.
Eyes open staring to the roof. No life in them.
Every breath pains, a knife buried deep within my skin, every second making me terribly aware of my rotten smell. My joints crying pain. My blood circulating pain. My muscles running on pain.
My skin covered in pain.
Pain is my name, my alias, my self, my tears. Red runs down my legs, covers my arms, bursts out from every pore, bits of me falling to the ground.
I cry to the sky, while my nails dig deeper in my flesh, tearing me inside out, leaving me behind. But I am still here, alone, broken, not the owner of my body, trapped inside of it, slave to its pain, to its smell of death, to its never ending curse.

Guiding light

As pain takes over me, open wounds that won´t heal, I close my eyes and think of you. I can´t see your face, I curl in my bed, cold, always cold, force myself to remember. But I can´t remember your face. Then for a second your name is not there. And I am pain. Blood runs down my arms and legs. And I start to understand that you were never real.
Cry, little baby, cry. I hold an empty blanket in my lap, cuddle it, pretend there´s a baby inside. Our baby. A precious thing, all curls and eyes. Milla comes and with sad eyes lays her head next to me. I show her the baby. She looks at me, knowing there´s no baby, wagging her tail pretending to follow me in the game. A light breeze comes through the window, the first day of sun, I wish to get close to its warmth, but bed is my territory.
Soft cotton against my skin, makes me feel fresh and doesn't hurt. A fly comes through the window. I hate flies. They make me feel as if I was already dead and my rotten smell was luring them into the house.
My joints ache as I try to reach for butterflies, light sparks and shadows over my head.
No tears for the lonely woman trapped in her room.

For in my eyes is always winter

And time stands still.

It makes no diff'rence where I turn
I can't get over you and the flame still burns
It makes no diff'rence,   night or day
The shadow never seems to fade away

And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door



Now there's no love
As true as the love
That dies untold
But the clouds never hung so low before

It makes no diff'rence how far I go
Like a scar the hurt will always show
It makes no diff'rence who I meet
They're just a face in the crowd
On a dead-end street
And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door


These old love letters
Well, I just can't keep
'Cause like the gambler says
Read 'em and weep
And the dawn don't rescue me no more

Without your love   I'm nothing at all
Like an empty hall  it's a lonely fall
Since you've gone   it's a losing battle
Stampeding cattle
They rattle the walls

And the sun don't shine anymore
And the rains fall down on my door

Well, I love you so much
It's all I can do
Just to keep myself from telling you
That I never felt so alone before
The band

Dancing in the dark

I get up in the evening
and I ain't got nothing to say
I come home in the morning
I go to bed feeling the same way
I ain't nothing but tired
Man I'm just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help

You can't start a fire
You can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

Message keeps getting clearer
radio's on and I'm moving 'round the place
I check my look in the mirror
I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man I ain't getting nowhere
I'm just living in a dump like this
There's something happening somewhere
baby I just know that there is

You can't start a fire
you can't start a fire without a spark
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older
there's a joke here somewhere and it's on me
I'll shake this world off my shoulders
come on baby this laugh's on me

Stay on the streets of this town
and they'll be carving you up alright
They say you gotta stay hungry
hey baby I'm just about starving tonight
I'm dying for some action
I'm sick of sitting 'round here trying to write this book
I need a love reaction
come on now baby gimme just one look

You can't start a fire sitting 'round crying over a broken heart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
You can't start a fire worrying about your little world falling apart
This gun's for hire
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Even if we're just dancing in the dark
Hey baby

slow songs

It´s been two days. Haven´t been out of my house, not that I was making it a lot during previous weeks. Haven´t shower. haven´t even gone out of my pj's.
So depressed. I just want to die. Or not. Not die but be happy. Or not? maybe just a phone call.
Yes. That would be fine, a phone call.
How much longer can I stay here? Slowly dying. "Tomorrow, you promise yourself, will be different, yet, tomorrow is too often a repetition of today."

I wish we could stop looking back

Fix you up

Could it really be that the soundtrack to our life is being programmed by the universe?
I´m so happy you sent this

What do I, what do I, what do I need
To do to see myself in a better mood
And what do you, what do you, what do you need
To do to get yourself in a better mood
Well there's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up and bring it in and we'll get you fixed up in no time
What I wanted most, what I wanted most, what I wanted most
Was to get myself all figured out
And what I figured out, what I figured out, what I figured out
Was that I needed more time to figure you out
There's not a lot for you to give if you're giving in
And there's not a lot for you to feel if you're not feeling it
You bring it up and bring it in and we'll get you fixed up in no time
Cause this love is all I have to give
This love is all I have to give

Winter songs, slowly getting there

CHAPITRE XXI

C'est alors qu'apparut le renard:

- Bonjour, dit le renard.

- Bonjour, répondit poliment le petit prince, qui se retourna mais ne vit rien.

- Je suis là, dit la voix, sous le pommier.

- Qui es-tu ? dit le petit prince. Tu es bien joli...

- Je suis un renard, dit le renard.

- Viens jouer avec moi, lui proposa le petit prince. Je suis tellement triste...

- Je ne puis pas jouer avec toi, dit le renard. Je ne suis pas apprivoisé.

- Ah! pardon, fit le petit prince.

Mais, après réflexion, il ajouta:

- Qu'est-ce que signifie "apprivoiser" ?

- Tu n'es pas d'ici, dit le renard, que cherches-tu ?

- Je cherche les hommes, dit le petit prince. Qu'est-ce que signifie "apprivoiser" ?

- Les hommes, dit le renard, ils ont des fusils et ils chassent. C'est bien gênant ! Ils élèvent aussi des poules. C'est leur seul intérêt. Tu cherches des poules ?

- Non, dit le petit prince. Je cherche des amis. Qu'est-ce que signifie "apprivoiser" ?

- C'est une chose trop oubliée, dit le renard. Ça signifie "créer des liens..."

- Créer des liens ?

- Bien sûr, dit le renard. Tu n'es encore pour moi qu'un petit garçon tout semblable à cent mille petits garçons. Et je n'ai pas besoin de toi. Et tu n'as pas besoin de moi non plus. Je ne suis pour toi qu'un renard semblable à cent mille renards. Mais, si tu m'apprivoises, nous aurons besoin l'un de l'autre. Tu seras pour moi unique au monde. Je serai pour toi unique au monde...

- Je commence à comprendre, dit le petit prince. Il y a une fleur... je crois qu'elle m'a apprivoisé...

- C'est possible, dit le renard. On voit sur la Terre toutes sortes de choses...

- Oh! ce n'est pas sur la Terre, dit le petit prince.

Le renard parut très intrigué :

- Sur une autre planète ?

- Oui.

- Il y a des chasseurs, sur cette planète-là ?

- Non.

- Ça, c'est intéressant ! Et des poules ?

- Non.

- Rien n'est parfait, soupira le renard.

Mais le renard revint à son idée:

- Ma vie est monotone. Je chasse les poules, les hommes me chassent. Toutes les poules se ressemblent, et tous les hommes se ressemblent. Je m'ennuie donc un peu. Mais, si tu m'apprivoises, ma vie sera comme ensoleillée. Je connaîtrai un bruit de pas qui sera différent de tous les autres. Les autres pas me font rentrer sous terre. Le tien m'appellera hors du terrier, comme une musique. Et puis regarde ! Tu vois, là-bas, les champs de blé ? Je ne mange pas de pain. Le blé pour moi est inutile. Les champs de blé ne me rappellent rien. Et ça, c'est triste ! Mais tu as des cheveux couleur d'or. Alors ce sera merveilleux quand tu m'auras apprivoisé ! Le blé, qui est doré, me fera souvenir de toi. Et j'aimerai le bruit du vent dans le blé...

Le renard se tut et regarda longtemps le petit prince:

- S'il te plaît... apprivoise-moi ! dit-il.

- Je veux bien, répondit le petit prince, mais je n'ai pas beaucoup de temps. J'ai des amis à découvrir et beaucoup de choses à connaître.

- On ne connaît que les choses que l'on apprivoise, dit le renard. Les hommes n'ont plus le temps de rien connaître. Ils achètent des choses toutes faites chez les marchands. Mais comme il n'existe point de marchands d'amis, les hommes n'ont plus d'amis. Si tu veux un ami, apprivoise-moi !

- Que faut-il faire? dit le petit prince.

- Il faut être très patient, répondit le renard. Tu t'assoiras d'abord un peu loin de moi, comme ça, dans l'herbe. Je te regarderai du coin de l'œil et tu ne diras rien. Le langage est source de malentendus. Mais, chaque jour, tu pourras t'asseoir un peu plus près...

Le lendemain revint le petit prince.

- Il eût mieux valu revenir à la même heure, dit le renard. Si tu viens, par exemple, à quatre heures de l'après-midi, dès trois heures je commencerai d'être heureux. Plus l'heure avancera, plus je me sentirai heureux. A quatre heures, déjà, je m'agiterai et m'inquiéterai; je découvrirai le prix du bonheur ! Mais si tu viens n'importe quand, je ne saurai jamais à quelle heure m'habiller le cœur... Il faut des rites.

- Qu'est-ce qu'un rite ? dit le petit prince.

- C'est aussi quelque chose de trop oublié, dit le renard. C'est ce qui fait qu'un jour est différent des autres jours, une heure, des autres heures. Il y a un rite, par exemple, chez mes chasseurs. Ils dansent le jeudi avec les filles du village. Alors le jeudi est jour merveilleux ! Je vais me promener jusqu'à la vigne. Si les chasseurs dansaient n'importe quand, les jours se ressembleraient tous, et je n'aurais point de vacances.

Ainsi le petit prince apprivoisa le renard. Et quand l'heure du départ fut proche:

- Ah! dit le renard... Je pleurerai.

- C'est ta faute, dit le petit prince, je ne te souhaitais point de mal, mais tu as voulu que je t'apprivoise...

- Bien sûr, dit le renard.

- Mais tu vas pleurer ! dit le petit prince.

- Bien sûr, dit le renard.

- Alors tu n'y gagnes rien !

- J'y gagne, dit le renard, à cause de la couleur du blé.

Puis il ajouta:

- Va revoir les roses. Tu comprendras que la tienne est unique au monde. Tu reviendras me dire adieu, et je te ferai cadeau d'un secret.

Le petit prince s'en fut revoir les roses:

- Vous n'êtes pas du tout semblables à ma rose, vous n'êtes rien encore, leur dit-il. Personne ne vous a apprivoisé et vous n'avez apprivoisé personne. Vous êtes comme était mon renard. Ce n'était qu'un renard semblable à cent mille autres. Mais j'en ai fait mon ami, et il est maintenant unique au monde.

Et les roses étaient bien gênées.

- Vous êtes belles, mais vous êtes vides, leur dit-il encore. On ne peut pas mourir pour vous. Bien sûr, ma rose à moi, un passant ordinaire croirait qu'elle vous ressemble. Mais à elle seule elle est plus importante que vous toutes, puisque c'est elle que j'ai arrosée. Puisque c'est elle que j'ai mise sous globe. Puisque c'est elle que j'ai abritée par le paravent. Puisque c'est elle dont j'ai tué les chenilles (sauf les deux ou trois pour les papillons). Puisque c'est elle que j'ai écoutée se plaindre, ou se vanter, ou même quelquefois se taire. Puisque c'est ma rose.

Et il revint vers le renard:

- Adieu, dit-il...

- Adieu, dit le renard. Voici mon secret. Il est très simple: on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.

- L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux, répéta le petit prince, afin de se souvenir.

- C'est le temps que tu as perdu pour ta rose qui fait ta rose si importante.

- C'est le temps que j'ai perdu pour ma rose... fit le petit prince, afin de se souvenir.

- Les hommes ont oublié cette vérité, dit le renard. Mais tu ne dois pas l'oublier. Tu deviens responsable pour toujours de ce que tu as apprivoisé. Tu es responsable de ta rose...

- Je suis responsable de ma rose... répéta le petit prince, afin de se souvenir.