(no subject)
i'm sitting on the edge of my seat, biting my nails, breathing in toxins, waiting waiting waiting, what's it gonna fucking be? how's she gonna do it? this seems like a normal way to go; teenage girl kills herself over almost nothing. how many things that mattered to you five years ago still matter to you now?
i drop the phone off the edge of my bed, it swings back and forth in the air before crashing down. no, that was me. i'm crasing down and the phone is still sitting on the bed. my head feels full of air and water and wind and earth and death... i miss you? i miss me? i know that i'm not making much sense of things, yes, not making much sense of anything right now. there is a baby that doesn't know its a baby yet, that i don't know is forming, that is just technically a bunch of cells in my abdomen. it's right next to my stomach that is dissolving pills like little tablets of color in easter vinegar. little pills that are going to surely dissolve away the pain right? little white pills that have my name etched into them whether or not i know it. i can feel the chemical reaction, hydrogen bonds and sulfide bonds breaking and attaching, my blood turning poisionus and a sickly color. the light in my bathroom tends to be on the green side, my skin is matching the light and i look like linda blair. thick pukey skin, thinned blood on my lips from how hard i bit my tounge when i thought i was going to tell you that i loved you... this still isn't making much sense when i hear the knocks on the door, the men on my floor, me on the bed, you still in my head. i think that i may be seeing things when the lights continue to flash before my eyes. it isn't making much sense when the man in the hat says, "this may pinch a little bit." and see the syringe lace with my blood and i can't feel a thing. i don't understand why the world turned black the way it did. how it faded out, opaque and dull with awful greys and rich whites. it faded in and out, the scenery was like an old picture. dusty and full of holes. kind of me right now. feeling old and out of place, kind of forgotten but definately not any of those things. you could chew a hole in me right now and i wouldn't notice. go ahead. give me a nibble. i taste like salted sunflower seeds, that is what a boy told me once. i taste wonderful, and guys are always trying to put their mouth on me. their tounges in me, their hands on me, their flags at full mast. pants off to you sir! these are the things that i think of as i loosen my grip on myself.
i hate this part. waking up. the nurses say: i think you may have tried to kill yourself? high pitched tones at the end of the sentence. it comes off as a question, rhetorical, but i think that it might have been an attempt at consern. where are you at right now? asleep in your bed? at your parents with your mom making you breakfast and your dad watching television, golf is big right now isn't it? the cat and the dog are cuddled up to you and you smell like ass, you look like ass, but my guess is that you are smiling. everything is right in your house right now. soy products lined up on a george forman grill just waiting for the scent to lure you out, christmas pajama bottoms and a thrift store shirt, clumpy curls and morning breath. i hate you. waking up. i would try to not listen to music, i knew you didn't join me in bed until around five in the morning. sometimes i would wonder what you were doing, then i stopped because i knew... that while you sat so close to me that i was furthest from your mind. just a little bleep on the radar even when you layed next to me. i was moving too slowly for you to notice, i knew that love was just another four letter word. a before and after device that led me to bed time and time again. i thought that maybe if i could make you mean it than that would mean something. love means nothing when that is all that people say to you. te amo. ti amo. ich libe dich. a thousand and one girls, thin and beautiful with witty mouths and comforting words that are willing to protect you even when they have boyfriends themselves... even when they know that you are an asshole... even when they have met or talked to your girlfriend.... that you are willing to hide and lie about, to take back to my house while i'm at work, to woo with rich text that flows out your finger tips and down to your cock. tell them about how you like to come on girl's tits, how every once in awhile you like to stick your finger up their ass, that you don't know how to give head but like to trick yourself into thinking you do. that you like to look at pictures of younger girl's breasts, that you only like to talk to people that you think are attractive. tell them that you slept with your mother until the middle of elementry school, that you don't mind that their are half naked pictures of your sister up all over the house, that you think is funny to pull out your penis and stick it in your girlfriend's face until she finally sticks it in her mouth. tell them about how it is okay for you to do one thing but it isn't for them to do the same. tell them the truth. tell yourself the truth. i hate this waking up part. when your eyes are to dry to correctly cry. your chest feels full of lead. i'm bleeding out every single word i know at once.
the hospital sounds like a pond. it drip drops down and lets me know that you and i are not okay.
i think i might love someone else. he spells his name with five letters... but he fucks an awful lot like you do.
maybe i'll try again next time... maybe my luck will be better... vodka and sleeping pills make a great cocktail.
i'll meet you again when we figure out how to draw eternity.
i drop the phone off the edge of my bed, it swings back and forth in the air before crashing down. no, that was me. i'm crasing down and the phone is still sitting on the bed. my head feels full of air and water and wind and earth and death... i miss you? i miss me? i know that i'm not making much sense of things, yes, not making much sense of anything right now. there is a baby that doesn't know its a baby yet, that i don't know is forming, that is just technically a bunch of cells in my abdomen. it's right next to my stomach that is dissolving pills like little tablets of color in easter vinegar. little pills that are going to surely dissolve away the pain right? little white pills that have my name etched into them whether or not i know it. i can feel the chemical reaction, hydrogen bonds and sulfide bonds breaking and attaching, my blood turning poisionus and a sickly color. the light in my bathroom tends to be on the green side, my skin is matching the light and i look like linda blair. thick pukey skin, thinned blood on my lips from how hard i bit my tounge when i thought i was going to tell you that i loved you... this still isn't making much sense when i hear the knocks on the door, the men on my floor, me on the bed, you still in my head. i think that i may be seeing things when the lights continue to flash before my eyes. it isn't making much sense when the man in the hat says, "this may pinch a little bit." and see the syringe lace with my blood and i can't feel a thing. i don't understand why the world turned black the way it did. how it faded out, opaque and dull with awful greys and rich whites. it faded in and out, the scenery was like an old picture. dusty and full of holes. kind of me right now. feeling old and out of place, kind of forgotten but definately not any of those things. you could chew a hole in me right now and i wouldn't notice. go ahead. give me a nibble. i taste like salted sunflower seeds, that is what a boy told me once. i taste wonderful, and guys are always trying to put their mouth on me. their tounges in me, their hands on me, their flags at full mast. pants off to you sir! these are the things that i think of as i loosen my grip on myself.
i hate this part. waking up. the nurses say: i think you may have tried to kill yourself? high pitched tones at the end of the sentence. it comes off as a question, rhetorical, but i think that it might have been an attempt at consern. where are you at right now? asleep in your bed? at your parents with your mom making you breakfast and your dad watching television, golf is big right now isn't it? the cat and the dog are cuddled up to you and you smell like ass, you look like ass, but my guess is that you are smiling. everything is right in your house right now. soy products lined up on a george forman grill just waiting for the scent to lure you out, christmas pajama bottoms and a thrift store shirt, clumpy curls and morning breath. i hate you. waking up. i would try to not listen to music, i knew you didn't join me in bed until around five in the morning. sometimes i would wonder what you were doing, then i stopped because i knew... that while you sat so close to me that i was furthest from your mind. just a little bleep on the radar even when you layed next to me. i was moving too slowly for you to notice, i knew that love was just another four letter word. a before and after device that led me to bed time and time again. i thought that maybe if i could make you mean it than that would mean something. love means nothing when that is all that people say to you. te amo. ti amo. ich libe dich. a thousand and one girls, thin and beautiful with witty mouths and comforting words that are willing to protect you even when they have boyfriends themselves... even when they know that you are an asshole... even when they have met or talked to your girlfriend.... that you are willing to hide and lie about, to take back to my house while i'm at work, to woo with rich text that flows out your finger tips and down to your cock. tell them about how you like to come on girl's tits, how every once in awhile you like to stick your finger up their ass, that you don't know how to give head but like to trick yourself into thinking you do. that you like to look at pictures of younger girl's breasts, that you only like to talk to people that you think are attractive. tell them that you slept with your mother until the middle of elementry school, that you don't mind that their are half naked pictures of your sister up all over the house, that you think is funny to pull out your penis and stick it in your girlfriend's face until she finally sticks it in her mouth. tell them about how it is okay for you to do one thing but it isn't for them to do the same. tell them the truth. tell yourself the truth. i hate this waking up part. when your eyes are to dry to correctly cry. your chest feels full of lead. i'm bleeding out every single word i know at once.
the hospital sounds like a pond. it drip drops down and lets me know that you and i are not okay.
i think i might love someone else. he spells his name with five letters... but he fucks an awful lot like you do.
maybe i'll try again next time... maybe my luck will be better... vodka and sleeping pills make a great cocktail.
i'll meet you again when we figure out how to draw eternity.