Post by Icee on Mar 10, 2005 20:50:10 GMT -5
Here are some works of poetry I've completed.
I will update this reguarly.
This one is called "Audrey Hepburn"
So alike a porcelain star from the 1950's left broken and abused, a scar on her arm for each award won, every star studded movie just one more charade like your suicide attempts, why haven’t you perfected the method of your death like you’ve perfected your makeup and your so overly done up hair, and its all for only one reason isn’t… hide those eyes so constantly bloodshot with a rage focused upon those who push you on, push you down, this seems like the same film over and over again… act one, scene one, failure followed by self inflicted abuse, lay your head upon the shoulder of all the critics, spill your heart to them so fast they can’t understand a word, they’ll never comprehend your painful heartaches, cause you’ll never let them corrupt the skin you hide underneath the diamond laced dresses, upright and bulimic, posture pains your pretty face, how can you stay so straight towards the sky… whilst your bent over inducing this sickness upon yourself? Slowly you’ll fade away like the sun, everyone will forget you until you rise back up again, they’ll remember you for your good parts, and regret you for your drug addict depressions.
"Scar the train driver and commit your suicide"
Time it perfectly, make it count, bloodsplatterring over the glass as your skin rips open and your intestines rain down upon those in attendance like a poison so acidic it burns the image of your last moments onto their eyes.. leave the driver of your bullet still in shock as his eyes wide open glance upon the tatters of the note lashed to him by your trickling blood.. leave the pigs trying to understand.. was this a suicide.. or an attempt to destroy anothers world.. a martyr of the blood children.. you held the crimson flag high as it shattered through the window of this train and speared his heart.. a front page murder/suicide for the local newspaper.. a name in the history books.. infamy comes at a cost.. SOME PEOPLE MUST BE SACRIFICED AND YOU MUST BE WILLING TO LET THAT HAPPEN.. your soul will sit with a smile and stare at 'the forgotten ones'..
In the end they will question their existence and their purpose here, we live only to die, how will you be remembered?
"A firestorm of hatred"
Immortality has never faltered like it did as your car wrapped itself around the pole in a firestorm of fucking hatred, was this an effort to kill yourself or to kill the memories of someone else? Leave this question unanswered… let it pester me in my sleep… each time I think of you its like a shard of shrapnel unleashed from our time together passes through my chest and leaves an exit wound worse than the one when you said it was time for this to end… we were supposed to be invincible, what happened to our fucking dreams? Did it all become too much for you? You made it so easy to release my love, but now I only want to slaughter you for it, I love you too much to be with you anymore… does that sound wrong? Every day another ring is spun in this web of intrinsic love that I am further being drawn in to… let me go…
"Passion never felt so exiled"
As I walk upon this path of hatred every star that I pass burns brighter than the last with a fury so passionate it will leave any faith you ever had in your own humanity to dissipate into nothing less than a fake reality held together only by the frail words which were uttered through your teeth now barely attached to your face from the abuse that you were courted with, did you fall in love with the beauty of this treacherous sky before it fell upon your back and tore through you to ridicule your decrepit face with imagery of a world so faultless that your skin barely aged seems dilapidated at best as it slides right off your muscles that feebly collapse under the pressure I have exerted on to you over this petty crime called love.
"Stay alive to build your own death"
Let your knees sink into the more than worn path of despair, bow your head towards the ground and let your lack of self esteem overwhelm you, place your hands together in a single clap for your misery, foretold treason beyond a mere mortals belief, an image of an angel spearing towards the heavens whilst its wings burn and fall from its aching sides, yet still you mouth words under your breath to your forgotten god, all the monasteries that stood in his name are ruins beneath your new saviour, obliteration is the only gift they'll bless you with, then they'll set you on your way to march with the army of broken hearts, beat the skin of your drum until it breaks, they’ll beat you until you break, meet their iron fist with a stern look of determination, know that later on, you will have no face…
The horn blows and the train that follows the path to your last moments lurches to a stop, this train, once more just like the hearse that carried your fathers away, cover your chest with your arm and place your hand where your beating heart used to sit, grace the world with your uniform of imprisonment for the final time, the tracks to your inhibited destiny lit up in flames, how many of your brothers did you lose to these deplorable crimes…
Face the pain, and let a tear hit the ground, look on in an awe inspired by the crevice which erupts through the lands, a new hope, a new belief, soil left bloody and beaten now finally replenished by your strength, for a second time you are the only souls that have ever graced this land, look upon the graves of those who took your love captive through their anger, without a word uttered the fear dies today, today is the day that you demand their respect.
"Peter Pan is nothing but a pretty boy on acid"
Stare into the mirror, what do you see through it? A world of dreams so stainless in its perfection, no more bruises left on your neck from where the nightmares gripped you so tightly that asphyxiation was a curse, your daemons and your faeries all merge into a single image, a diagram of a man that does not fall but does not fly, stand once more in this death like trance as you envision that realm of a childhood you missed out on, caress the amulet of Saint Jude, patron Saint of hopeless causes… patron Saint of yourself, this isn’t a play where the rope will hold you as you soar above the crowd and they look on in awe, instead it will rain their spit as you crawl on the ground begging for their acceptance, aim your anger at them for the lie you call your life, sabotage the upbringing they built for you, hide inside your stories… your fantasy world… fill your leather-bound book with fabrications as false as the smiles on your face, work up the effort to push another smirk on your face and direct at me, turn your head as the shutters start to rattle and the curtains blow in the wind like your hair as it reveals your distorted face, jump out your window and fly away, you will only fall to your death upon the concrete path you paved into hell.
"To the emo xcore, piss off"
What is this lie you call your way of life? forever true! to a life you can not uphold, you're too weak, the x's on your hands look like fucking shit, can't you draw straight lines? hands still shaking from that last hit.. one needle for your new straightedge tattoo... another for your drugs... WHY DO YOU LIE! WHY DO YOU LIE TO YOURSELF! WHY DO YOU LIE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU! straight edge raise your fucking hands in the air! but your hands stayed down? what happened to your life.. I hope you get AIDS and your edge friends disown you, leave you to your own depression, this is now nothing more than a bleeding romance with yourself and the blade.. carve the x's into your hands one last time.. bleed straight edge.. bleed straight edge.. what was your point? protect your body? preserve your brain and heart... now i'm going to leave you wishing you had ruined them yourself.. ink my face onto your arms so you never forget i am the one who ripped your fucking ribs open and tore out your heart.. this is a xxx suicide at its worst.. forever true.. you tried so hard and got nowhere.. oh so fast..
I will update this reguarly.
This one is called "Audrey Hepburn"
So alike a porcelain star from the 1950's left broken and abused, a scar on her arm for each award won, every star studded movie just one more charade like your suicide attempts, why haven’t you perfected the method of your death like you’ve perfected your makeup and your so overly done up hair, and its all for only one reason isn’t… hide those eyes so constantly bloodshot with a rage focused upon those who push you on, push you down, this seems like the same film over and over again… act one, scene one, failure followed by self inflicted abuse, lay your head upon the shoulder of all the critics, spill your heart to them so fast they can’t understand a word, they’ll never comprehend your painful heartaches, cause you’ll never let them corrupt the skin you hide underneath the diamond laced dresses, upright and bulimic, posture pains your pretty face, how can you stay so straight towards the sky… whilst your bent over inducing this sickness upon yourself? Slowly you’ll fade away like the sun, everyone will forget you until you rise back up again, they’ll remember you for your good parts, and regret you for your drug addict depressions.
"Scar the train driver and commit your suicide"
Time it perfectly, make it count, bloodsplatterring over the glass as your skin rips open and your intestines rain down upon those in attendance like a poison so acidic it burns the image of your last moments onto their eyes.. leave the driver of your bullet still in shock as his eyes wide open glance upon the tatters of the note lashed to him by your trickling blood.. leave the pigs trying to understand.. was this a suicide.. or an attempt to destroy anothers world.. a martyr of the blood children.. you held the crimson flag high as it shattered through the window of this train and speared his heart.. a front page murder/suicide for the local newspaper.. a name in the history books.. infamy comes at a cost.. SOME PEOPLE MUST BE SACRIFICED AND YOU MUST BE WILLING TO LET THAT HAPPEN.. your soul will sit with a smile and stare at 'the forgotten ones'..
In the end they will question their existence and their purpose here, we live only to die, how will you be remembered?
"A firestorm of hatred"
Immortality has never faltered like it did as your car wrapped itself around the pole in a firestorm of fucking hatred, was this an effort to kill yourself or to kill the memories of someone else? Leave this question unanswered… let it pester me in my sleep… each time I think of you its like a shard of shrapnel unleashed from our time together passes through my chest and leaves an exit wound worse than the one when you said it was time for this to end… we were supposed to be invincible, what happened to our fucking dreams? Did it all become too much for you? You made it so easy to release my love, but now I only want to slaughter you for it, I love you too much to be with you anymore… does that sound wrong? Every day another ring is spun in this web of intrinsic love that I am further being drawn in to… let me go…
"Passion never felt so exiled"
As I walk upon this path of hatred every star that I pass burns brighter than the last with a fury so passionate it will leave any faith you ever had in your own humanity to dissipate into nothing less than a fake reality held together only by the frail words which were uttered through your teeth now barely attached to your face from the abuse that you were courted with, did you fall in love with the beauty of this treacherous sky before it fell upon your back and tore through you to ridicule your decrepit face with imagery of a world so faultless that your skin barely aged seems dilapidated at best as it slides right off your muscles that feebly collapse under the pressure I have exerted on to you over this petty crime called love.
"Stay alive to build your own death"
Let your knees sink into the more than worn path of despair, bow your head towards the ground and let your lack of self esteem overwhelm you, place your hands together in a single clap for your misery, foretold treason beyond a mere mortals belief, an image of an angel spearing towards the heavens whilst its wings burn and fall from its aching sides, yet still you mouth words under your breath to your forgotten god, all the monasteries that stood in his name are ruins beneath your new saviour, obliteration is the only gift they'll bless you with, then they'll set you on your way to march with the army of broken hearts, beat the skin of your drum until it breaks, they’ll beat you until you break, meet their iron fist with a stern look of determination, know that later on, you will have no face…
The horn blows and the train that follows the path to your last moments lurches to a stop, this train, once more just like the hearse that carried your fathers away, cover your chest with your arm and place your hand where your beating heart used to sit, grace the world with your uniform of imprisonment for the final time, the tracks to your inhibited destiny lit up in flames, how many of your brothers did you lose to these deplorable crimes…
Face the pain, and let a tear hit the ground, look on in an awe inspired by the crevice which erupts through the lands, a new hope, a new belief, soil left bloody and beaten now finally replenished by your strength, for a second time you are the only souls that have ever graced this land, look upon the graves of those who took your love captive through their anger, without a word uttered the fear dies today, today is the day that you demand their respect.
"Peter Pan is nothing but a pretty boy on acid"
Stare into the mirror, what do you see through it? A world of dreams so stainless in its perfection, no more bruises left on your neck from where the nightmares gripped you so tightly that asphyxiation was a curse, your daemons and your faeries all merge into a single image, a diagram of a man that does not fall but does not fly, stand once more in this death like trance as you envision that realm of a childhood you missed out on, caress the amulet of Saint Jude, patron Saint of hopeless causes… patron Saint of yourself, this isn’t a play where the rope will hold you as you soar above the crowd and they look on in awe, instead it will rain their spit as you crawl on the ground begging for their acceptance, aim your anger at them for the lie you call your life, sabotage the upbringing they built for you, hide inside your stories… your fantasy world… fill your leather-bound book with fabrications as false as the smiles on your face, work up the effort to push another smirk on your face and direct at me, turn your head as the shutters start to rattle and the curtains blow in the wind like your hair as it reveals your distorted face, jump out your window and fly away, you will only fall to your death upon the concrete path you paved into hell.
"To the emo xcore, piss off"
What is this lie you call your way of life? forever true! to a life you can not uphold, you're too weak, the x's on your hands look like fucking shit, can't you draw straight lines? hands still shaking from that last hit.. one needle for your new straightedge tattoo... another for your drugs... WHY DO YOU LIE! WHY DO YOU LIE TO YOURSELF! WHY DO YOU LIE TO THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU! straight edge raise your fucking hands in the air! but your hands stayed down? what happened to your life.. I hope you get AIDS and your edge friends disown you, leave you to your own depression, this is now nothing more than a bleeding romance with yourself and the blade.. carve the x's into your hands one last time.. bleed straight edge.. bleed straight edge.. what was your point? protect your body? preserve your brain and heart... now i'm going to leave you wishing you had ruined them yourself.. ink my face onto your arms so you never forget i am the one who ripped your fucking ribs open and tore out your heart.. this is a xxx suicide at its worst.. forever true.. you tried so hard and got nowhere.. oh so fast..
they're so good. but they're so sad.
