a little bit of a resurrection
my life journal: cutmedown








long forgotten names, etched in stone


if you were a clean, white t-shirt i could carefully slit my wrists & let my crimson blood drip & spill over you. seeping into your cotton skin, spreading & enveloping you until my blood consumed you. this would be me, letting my truths unfold into your being. but for now we can only wonder as to why anyone would ever want the truths of a girl who is so completely b r o k e n.

it's an endless cycle that we are all caught up in. we battle for breath, for the things we need to thrive & all we get is denied [turned away over & over & over & over again.] even though it happened just once it replays in my mind everyday. i can't help it, i never could.

i would give it all to be able to see one day pass where he does not cross my mind. i can't decide whether that day is near or never & the suspense [among other things] is killing me.

i promise you that if i could take us on a magic carpet ride i would. i would take us far away so we couldn't hear the sad lullaby of the crickets anymore, because agonizing beauty is never worth the cost. what good is beauty or truth when it is irradescent? simply it is not; there is no point in gray, black or white is necessary whilst in the pursuit of a rainbow colored paradise.

this is me exposed, & mostly this is me clinging to faith.




written on 2003-08-25 at 11:08 p.m.

she / lost