crimson trailI like to see the blood run down my leg. I have to see the liquid pain dribble away. the feeling that is created is un-known to any other, a feeling that nothing is wrong and that the crimson trail with led me on. then the world crashes down, I see what I have done. suddenly I'm afraid of me and what I can do.I cut for survival but I regret it everyday. I try to stop the fever that rushes to the blade. I hide inside myself, never to come out. people may ask me why I'm crying and I just can't respond. I try and think of what the would think if I were to say the truth, " if I weren't crying, I'd probably be bleeding."
why i hate valentine's dayas i look around these halls.i see my friends.i see them with each other.i can tell they are happy.then i see another friend; and she is with him,they are in "love".until the world around them crashes downthey crash into reality,suddenly cold and alone.afraid of what is to come,but they had happiness even if it was fleeting.i haven't had the kind of happiness they shared.the bliss of knowing someone cares for you and loves you,they love you for reasons that may never be explained.yet i walk through these halls aloneeveryday i see this unattainable bliss, this perfect little moment.i envy my friends, my family, the world,because they have someonei have only those laughing voices in my head.
the voidwhen i look in the mirror,all i see is a void looking back.my inspiration has left, leaving me to my own devices.i feel like a black hole, trying to suck all around me down with me.i pick up my paint brush and paint over yet another bad painting.the new painting that imerges is a mirror of how i feel,a dark, swirling hole.i finish the painting and look at it with an odd satisfaction.i thought my muse had left me to fend for myself,but in reality it was the best thing she had done in a long time.i found my inspiration from within.i haven't filled the void completely,but it's a start.the more i paint, or write, or dream the smaller it becomes.
darknessmany people fear it,some may even need a night light to sleep at night.i on the other hand welcome this placid solitude.a time when my muse comes out to play,and a time when no one is there to intrude.darkness is a time just for me, to do what comes naturally.this is my time to shine.
BlackbirdMysterious black bird beckoned me near,so I sat by her side and listened to her thoughts.Her sardonic views made me laugh,she could always make me smile.In her dark and dreary ways,my black bird hid her pain.Only when she flew away and came home with a broken wing,did I begin to understand.My happy, gothic black birdwas not as happy as I thought.Although she claims that she is alright,I know it's just a hidden fear,that keeps her from her truth.When she is thinking clearly, though,her truth is then unveiled.My mysterious black birdis just another person that has been broken,broken by the system, and broken by the world.
friends can lie mirrors cannoti look in the mirrorand what i see is me.i lean a little nearer,to see if i can see,what it is that all my friends,see inside of me.i guess they see the odds and ends,of me that i will never see.they try to tell me lies,to tell me that i\'m beautiful.but i can see through their guise,they are being deceitful.when i look at myself,i see nothing but a silly little girl,a girl trying to find herself,and not be lost in the whirl.