:(

Everything just keeps getting worse and worse and worse.........
Why!?
I dont know how much more shit i can take....
I need another world!
This one is nearly gone.... and it isnt ever going to come back and be like it was before!
I need to get out of here...out of my mind.... just for a while.... find some peace so i dont have to think about everything that is going through my mind at the moment!
There is so muc goig on up in my head at the moment i feel i cant even see straight.
Everything is a blur....! And i dont like it!

As much as
I try to be an
easygoing ,
stretch your wings out and fly type...
I just cant stop
trying to burst
people into flames
with my mind...

FUUUUUUCCCCKKK!!!

Why? Why out of all the people in the world do you decide it has to be her?
She is amazing! Perfect infact! I'm nothing without her!
God makes these decisions does he..? well god is a DICKHEAD if he wants to take this marvelous woman away from me!!!!!!!
I hate it... I hate it... I HATE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How I feel today, how i felt yesterday, how i'll probably be feeling tomorrow...

Sometimes I just want to walk into the ocean, so far it would just swallow me up- but it spits you out like your NOTHING, no one.

I've tried, trust me I've tried but it never works, nothing EVER works, he just wont let me leave this wretched place.

GOD. Someone told me it is HIM who decides our fates. Then its him who wont let me leave! This same person told me that GOD is the BLOOD of LIFE! well do you know what...

I sleep in blood without security! I am hungry and desire NO ONE AT ALL! Death is hell and I do NOT desire LOVE.

If love is to be desired then is it a desire I wish to be loved? If not, the when might I ask do I wish to desire love? what does the Future hold? And is there even REAL LOVE?

I cannot speak, nor do I dare to express daily how I sincerely feel. For those that take my words are those that have some need.

Though there is no IMPORTANCE in my words I will not express a desire for ANYTHING that will either EXPIRE or make me feel WANTED. I cannot trespass on that which not meant laid.

My hands stained by LOVE in the past. I have meaning, but there is none true, is there PURPOSE?

FOR WHAT PURPOSE DO I HAVE TO BREATH? WHAT PURPOSE DO I HAVE TO BREATH?

SOMEONE TELL ME!!!!

I cannot wash the blood of the PAST from my hands. Dare I not forget the lessons of yesterday. To seek the KNOWLEDGE of tomorrow.

Lest my mind be filled with SORROW. I cannot bare the PAIN and SORROW of my heart.

THERE IS NO REAL LOVE FOR ME!

When?

Waiting, always waiting for the shadowed face of my fantasy lover to come to light. The one who sets my heart and soul on fire with a passioned frenzy that dizzies every sense. The one whose love envelops my every emotion and very being, exhilarating and calm. That mysterious man, the one of my dreams, for which I am forever . . . waiting.

Inspiration

You ask me if I love you,

Then you suck the lips off my face

And chew on the delicacy of their maroon creases.

'Body shop' lipstick, no. 12;

The taste of compact slabs of cherry.

This cheap adolescent disguise has guided me through all

my realizations.

I left it on the edge of plastic vodka glasses and blood smeared mirrors,

On the foreskins of any man,

And finally, on all your clichéd perfume soaked letters.

Now it is in your mouth, your throat, your stomach.

You have swallowed my teens and all those fermented mistakes.

The ones I danced into blind,

Fumbling for an urgent exit

In whitewashed jeans and tobacco coated pockets.

All the words that flew out and assaulted

Sean, Martin, Eamonn, Ross, Ben

(and all the others my high tech brain has crashed out and deleted),

Have left open wounds in my voice box,

gauged by their barbed wire font.

But as you savor the many varied tastes of my existence,

I can feel my insides frantically stitching and nursing

my pubescent cuts and bruises. Healing in seconds.

Now I am your fetus and everything is warm.

You feed me with a mother's strength and make me reborn,

Without all these zits and misadventures.

My new born 'Hallelujah' scream, realized from sterilized lungs

will be pristine, no lipstick stains in sight.

The answer to your question is

"Yes, Yes, Yes! "

Yes, I love you.

YOUR PURPLE MECHANICAL PALMS,

THAT AT NIGHT SOFTEN LIKE CHOCOLATE IN THE SUNLIGHT

AND MELT INTO MY THIGHS.

YOUR HEAVY TORTURED EYES, YOUR LAUGHTER

AND THE WAY YOU INHALE YOUR MARLBORO.

Yes, Yes, Yes.

I swirl out of your anesthetic

With a bacon rind for a belly button

And that's my first word,

A singular syllable.

I can turn the lens until my eyes are in focus,

And you, my surgeon, become my mother.

"Your adolescence has been successfully removed.

The operation was beautiful, wonderful,

Just fine. "

My log in word is 'You'.

That is all I remember.

I am a blank canvas, a cut- price jotter pad, an overflowing biro.

Write all over me.

Scrawl your name in my razor sharp armpits,

In my louse- free hair, my eyelashes bulging with years of mascara.

Practice your joined up handwriting on

My Mound of Venus and the folds of my labia;

Magenta pink and bald.

I am your Frankenstein,

but I promise not to fail.

I will get top marks in my oral stage, my anal stage

And all the others I don't remember,

Because we hit the doodle stage in class.

With you, I will grow old and withered

And our tree roots will be dangerously entwined with time.

We will become soil once again and make love amongst the worms.

'Yes' will always be my answer, my mantra.

You will always be my host, my vessel;

A place to store my happiness and tears.