oce upon a time, swanqueen


Its math class, trigonometry.
the teacher drones on about logs and multiplication
but i am not paying attention.
my mind has been consumed by death.
beautiful death that i so desire
it feels like i am on fire.
my arms burn, craving the metal to be dragged across them
drawing blood,
beautiful crimson blood that
drips drips drips
onto bathroom tiles.
its been a while
since i have enduldged in such activities
i think i deserve a trip to the crimson river
it gives me shivers
when the crimson river flows.
its math class, trigonometry
And the teacher drones on about logs and multiplication
but all i want to do is die.
  • Current Music
    florence and the machine

I Am Alice

When the lovely flowers 
Begin to sing
When the flies 
Become beautiful 
I will wait for you at waters edge
Near the Hatter’s grave
And the Caterpillar’s corpse
I loose my self 
In mirrors
Shining silver and gold
Smooth and rippled 
They contradict 
But they only speak the truth
I will search between 
Here and There, 
Looking for what I’ve lost
I do not know what it is
But I know I must find it 
Perhaps its buried beneath the Vorpal Sword’s 
Hidden palace 
I saw the three of hearts
Running towards me
Holding bloody and snow white 
The Red Queen cried
At the loss of the King of  Hearts
And stood by his deathbed 
Wishing for a heart of ice

I Am

I am transient
My darling Paper Town
I am but a wisp of cloud
Blown about by angerily whispering winds
Something seeming virginal
For when I am touched,
I disappear
I am the scent of roses and blood
A scent of betrayal of trust
The smell which keeps you awake
Swooning with feverish nightmares and flashes of red
I alone allow you to sleep
I am the taste of strawberry wine,
Which stained the lips of the woman you loved
The night you first met
I am the hunger, devouring your mind
Seeking the answers, killing your soul
I crave naught but the truth, though you won’t enjoy  it
I eat away at the most delicate  pieces of your psyche
I alone will allow you to rest
I am the god that played on your fears,
Wasted you away,
Killed  your children,
Starved your wives,
Sent your sons to war

Think of me

When your left standing all alone in a world so cold and cruel. When you hear the serenade of a string quartet. When you hear the lullaby of true hearts. Will you think of me? When I'm down on my knees and you can't see me, will you think of me? When your left standing alone in this cruel world come find me, come into my arms, into my heart when you've hurt your last, come find me. When your scared when your down and out, when you've strung yourself out from rolling too hard. When your standing all alone in a party, at a rave, in your classroom, at your job, in this cruel world, come find me, and I'll hold your hand. When you've been told that your lifestyle is wrong won't you think of me? How i treated you way too fairly. And now are you left standing? Isn't this life just like a cold dream? Can you still see me? Am I more to you than just a dream? You are all I have thought of all that I have pondered in the ramblings of this pretty mouth. When the loss is like a sea of despair, when the pain is like a gaping wound of what should've been But can this broken heart trully follow the stars? Your all this broken heart has wanted and yet you reject me like a passing thought. Think of me, think of the dreams that we have shared. For once I'm begging you on my knees. Let us relive the start, the times we swore we'd never part, your all I had wanted, all I wanted, all I dreamed of, all I felt so strongly in the dreams of the night. But it, but I wasn't enough, and I watched you depart. Leaving this heart saying "Please no more," Will you remember the times I held you in my arms and told you of my premonition that our passion would soon end, and that soon youd be just a memory as I paced the shower and cried. I fell asleep in your arms after we made love, now I'm asleep on my couch singing "All I wanted was you." Are you too far out there for me to find? Has life ever treated any soul fairly? Has reality? Now I'm the one thats out there being thrown to my knees. Its a crying shame that our passion is now a string symphony. A shame that our souls only united in one last time in a picture. And now Im so deep I think of my actions of every harsh word shpoken, I realize now that live giveth and taketh away so why tempt fate to take away with hate and judgemental words. If I could relive all of my starts would I remember to slow down and feel your heart? Your all I had ever wanted. When I had held your hand I had felt the hope of eternity. Shall we meet there after the pain love? Meet me there. But eternity isn't promised, happiness is not promised only the frivoulous pursuit but in the end we all die alone. Yes we all die alone. And my mind does amazing things and yet cannot muster the ability to show you my heart, to make certain you don't depart. So I'll pace my apartment a few times with my mind stuck in a cell of limited words and actions. And limited ability to make this work. But just like the struggling day moth tapping reapeatedly at your windowsill, to be free and happy, don't help my burdened soul save me now and give me a harshe start and bitter ending and when my wings stop fluttering and my eyes rest on the stars then stop and think that all my heart all my dying heart sings is "All I wanted was you."
brown eyes

(no subject)

Metallic Tastes of Love

We laid vertically,
across the horizontal bed.
I stayed up half the night with you,
reading Dickinson, Plath, and Sexton.
Reading religiously,
waiting to lend our lives.

I remember the way you smiled,
and how warm it felt into my soul.
I can still feel your kisses,
and your laugh,
resounding in my mind.
I miss you.

Together, we decided.
Nothing is really worth this.
Together, we bought it,
and I laid up back in my bed.
Opening our Bibles again,
we read and analyzed until exhaustion set in.

I placed the drink on my tongue,
and felt the metallic taste, like blood,
rise again and again my mouth.
I kissed you a million times,
each time spilling the metallic warmth into you.
Repetitively, kissing and drinking, unto you fell asleep.

Alas, I slept too,
and woke to neon hues of life.
What? The metallic taste still burns on my tongue.
And as I hold your milky hand tonight for the last time,
I can’t fathom why this worked for you
and not me?
  • bardia

True Religion

"My religion is not Buddhism;
my religion is loving-kindness."

H.H., the Dalai Lama

As with
a 'matter'

Not of
'faith' or

"but," rather,
experience, of

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