My Life's A Black Void
Wow...I haven't written in this shit in ages! So many things have changed, so many relationships ended and so many new ones started. I've been writing so much lately and it all seems to depressing.
On a good note, I only have 8 days left before finals and AP tests and after two weeks of that shit, school is pretty much over. I am completely floating now. I just wish that there wasn't so much shit going on in my damn class. Yeah, 06 is tight, but there is so much shit that people don't know and I just wish that people would stop coming to me with their problems. Only crazy people would come to someone like me for advice.
The thing at the forefront of my mind right now is love. They say that love is suicide and I am beginning to think it's true. I mean, once you fall in love there is nothing you can do without everything changing. Once you fall in love, your heart gets broken time and time again, it just always happens to me. I'm beginning to think that love is just a lie, or a fairytale, or a dream, that never comes true. Love seems to be something that you get excited about,that never works out.
Life is another story entirely. I have so many things that have to be secret, they just have to be. There’s so many things that would make everyone abandon me, if thy only knew. I mean my current situation…isn’t all that good…okay it’s not good at all…. But, it’s not my moms fault, because she hasn’t done anything wrong, she just deals with me the only way that she knows how.
It’s funny, because I just ruined a relationship by coming clean, I told someone my secrets and that were well aware of what was going on, but they didn’t really care and not I’m back to running and hiding.
So many people say that they hate my parents and that I’ll be free in 4.5 months, but they don’t realize that even with such a short amount of time left here, time is still against me and I’m running out of it fast, who knows what will happen to me before I leave.
Every slap to my face is a bruise on my already battered heart and every tear drop makes me come undone at the seams. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together, my life is like a stage now. I am the actress in a one woman show and I’ve changed so much, that I don’t even know who I was. I realize that I’m always hiding and I just consider this existence my life, but I’m starting to think that it’s all just a game to my mother.
I’ve even been cutting a lot lately, though I know that it is a sign of weakness, the smell and taste of my blood comforts me. I look through my blood stained hands, pretending that I can't see, but as I block out one sense the others become sharper. They remind me of what I’ve done. Then, there is that moment, when I open my eyes to see what I've created. There is always a red river that flows freely and I always think that it's just a sick twist of my imagination, but the strong scent of blood always tells me otherwise.
For some reason, when it comes down it, I didn’t, and in some ways still don’t, have much self-worth. I saw my self as an object and I still do, because all anyone ever values is my body. In the mornings I would fold my cutaway-tearaway cutout heart along the dotted lines, then put on my short skirts and low cut tops to go and see how many I could milk. I would dress in my mother’s old clothes from her model days and smother on her expensive lipstick, only to capture that adolescent doe-eyed poise and show off all of my suggestive curves. I was always told, “Hold onto the headboard honey, this is going to be a wild ride.”
I became good at faking accents and orgasms. I would let him come to me and whatever he wanted is what I would be. I fake. I would let him undress me with his eyes and thread his fingers through my hair. He would pull apart the sutures in my chest and tear my heart out time after time, only to put it back together again, no matter how fragmented he left it. I was his addiction. I never seem to get the person that I want, the one that will embrace my cracks, despite the fact that I hide inside a mannequin shell of false parts and broken appendages.
I live in perpetual obscurity and I deceive everyone., because I am not who I am thought to be and I make everyone believe my illusion. My truth is hard to bear and I am nothing but faded gold against a sea of glittering glory. My existence seems so cold. I am nothing and I suffer alone. I stare out of my window and watch the people pass by, while my life just slips away. I am content to watch others happy, while I sit and wait to die. I can’t bring myself to come forth and be apart of anyone. I can’t break down my cage, because this cage is my protections, a barrier from it all, here I am truly safe. Here I don't have to participate, I don't have to be a part of the scene. I can cry alone in agony, because I'd never share my pain and I can’t take your pity. I hide in this place and fake a smile to the world.
I will be just a woman perfected in death; an illusion bleeding peacefully. There is no hope in confusion and I can’t see everything that I could be. Under all of my tears, my fears are marked by my shadows.
Things are even worst, because I keep thinking about my best friend. You know, the one that was my life force and then committed suicide. It feels like I am surrounded by darkness, everywhere. The pain in my heart is ripping me apart like a poisoned arrow. I didn’t even think that it was possible to hurt this much. He fucking left me alone and for so many months after I would have the most intense hallucinations. I would see a black ocean, a black sky, a black light, and a black lie, everywhere that I looked, because he is gone forever.
I am alone now, because everyone has left me, again. Now, I day dream about the times that we used to share. We were friends since the day I was born and we could've been friends forever, but he decided to hang from that pole. For awhile I was really pissed, because he had left me behind and didn’t take me with him, but anger does not last long and soon I was overcome with sadness. That’s when my shadows appeared and the demons tried to take my heart. I cut it out for them, I wanted them to rip it out, because it would hurt less that the pain.
Just when I have that dagger and I start to make the killing cuts, I start to see black rain falling from the sky. I think that it’s the same black rain that descended upon me on the day that he died. That makes everything more real and I realize that I don’t know what I will become without him. I feel lost without him and I thought that I knew him, but obviously he had more going on than I could comprehend at the time. My grief swallows me and I drown in my black sea of agony. Everywhere is black and there are no colors in my world and no sounds because I refuse to say good bye. He can't be gone.
When I close my eyes, I hear his voice whisper in my ear, "Denial" and then: "Fear.” The only problem is that, when I open my eyes there is no one there and I start to cry once more as I sit on the cold floor, resting my head on my knees, and I close my eyes just to hear his voice again.
I guess that if anyone reads this, they might freak out, but Whoever you may be, I just want to tell you that’s I’ll be fine. I’m fine, really, I’m just writing about shit that so many other people face everyday, but sometimes I can’t take it…I’m weighing down my heart with things I shouldn’t think about, and they’re tearing me apart. I think about my death a lot and I know that’s I shouldn’t do it, but I cant help but wonder what would happen if I left.
Most times, I wonder what would set me off and make me kill myself. I wonder about who would look into my casket and let tears run from their eyes, and touch my cold, dead fingertips, and miss me all their lives. I wonder who would do the eulogy or who would carry my casket. I wonder about who would bring me flowers and be haunted by my ghost. I wonder if anyone would wear a red-hot dress and dance on the earth above me, which makes me wonder if anyone would kick that persons ass in memory of me. I wonder who the lonely one would be, who sits in the back of the funeral and slits their wrists when they get home. I wonder who will forget about my life and who I was and try to live their lives to the fullest, thought they will never be able to. I wonder about who will keep me in their thought and be unable to live a day without my presence, because they loved me so much. In the end, I may not be remembered at all, but these are my thoughts and I may think morbid thoughts, but I can handle my self, so, don’t feel the need to act as my keeper.
To be honest, I wish that you could help me. It’s three in the morning, and I haven’t slept for days. You can laugh if you want, but I’m scared of the dark and my mind is the darkest thing that I know. I close my eyes and his dead face is all I see. I cannot tell you of what I fear, but it’s always on my mind and I cannot escape my nightmare. My eyes are still open and the are wide and bloodshot. You always try to save me, but you cannot reach me. I wish that you could get rid of these images, just so I can sleep and to keep me from going crazy. Each passing day, my paranoia overcomes me and I cannot resist my dark temptations. Everything disappears and all I see is the blood and the cut, but each time it gets worse and maybe one day soon I’ll see death. Now tell me, how can you help save me from this?
If I died today, would you think of me more? If I died today, would you cry for me? If I died today, would you be saddened beyond belief? If I died today, how many people would go to my funeral and mourn? If I died today, would you still my friend? If I died today, would you remember the memories? If I died today, would you write a poem for me? If I died today, would you ever mention me again? If I died today, would everything be okay? If I died today, would you still talk to me? Even if people thought you were crazy? If I died today, would you guess where I went? If I died today, would you still laugh with me? If I died to today, would you have fun even more? If I died today, would you forget the after, and think of the before? If I died today, I’d want you to be the same and I’d want you to mention me. If I died today, I still want to be in your heart. But, if I died today, I’d want you to be happy. I’d want you to think of a better place, Just as I had done before.
I’m starting to ramble so I’m going to end at this, just know that even though this entry seems sad, I’m actually happy. Writing this has put a smile on my face, because I was able to get it all out into the open. So people, be happy, life is full of ups and downs, and though you might have mostly downs, think about all of the people that you would leave behind, if you killed yourself. I do every time I feel the suicide bug bite and I’m still here because of it.
Peace, Love, and Bloody Kisses,
~Turquoise Chrysocolla
On a good note, I only have 8 days left before finals and AP tests and after two weeks of that shit, school is pretty much over. I am completely floating now. I just wish that there wasn't so much shit going on in my damn class. Yeah, 06 is tight, but there is so much shit that people don't know and I just wish that people would stop coming to me with their problems. Only crazy people would come to someone like me for advice.
The thing at the forefront of my mind right now is love. They say that love is suicide and I am beginning to think it's true. I mean, once you fall in love there is nothing you can do without everything changing. Once you fall in love, your heart gets broken time and time again, it just always happens to me. I'm beginning to think that love is just a lie, or a fairytale, or a dream, that never comes true. Love seems to be something that you get excited about,that never works out.
Life is another story entirely. I have so many things that have to be secret, they just have to be. There’s so many things that would make everyone abandon me, if thy only knew. I mean my current situation…isn’t all that good…okay it’s not good at all…. But, it’s not my moms fault, because she hasn’t done anything wrong, she just deals with me the only way that she knows how.
It’s funny, because I just ruined a relationship by coming clean, I told someone my secrets and that were well aware of what was going on, but they didn’t really care and not I’m back to running and hiding.
So many people say that they hate my parents and that I’ll be free in 4.5 months, but they don’t realize that even with such a short amount of time left here, time is still against me and I’m running out of it fast, who knows what will happen to me before I leave.
Every slap to my face is a bruise on my already battered heart and every tear drop makes me come undone at the seams. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together, my life is like a stage now. I am the actress in a one woman show and I’ve changed so much, that I don’t even know who I was. I realize that I’m always hiding and I just consider this existence my life, but I’m starting to think that it’s all just a game to my mother.
I’ve even been cutting a lot lately, though I know that it is a sign of weakness, the smell and taste of my blood comforts me. I look through my blood stained hands, pretending that I can't see, but as I block out one sense the others become sharper. They remind me of what I’ve done. Then, there is that moment, when I open my eyes to see what I've created. There is always a red river that flows freely and I always think that it's just a sick twist of my imagination, but the strong scent of blood always tells me otherwise.
For some reason, when it comes down it, I didn’t, and in some ways still don’t, have much self-worth. I saw my self as an object and I still do, because all anyone ever values is my body. In the mornings I would fold my cutaway-tearaway cutout heart along the dotted lines, then put on my short skirts and low cut tops to go and see how many I could milk. I would dress in my mother’s old clothes from her model days and smother on her expensive lipstick, only to capture that adolescent doe-eyed poise and show off all of my suggestive curves. I was always told, “Hold onto the headboard honey, this is going to be a wild ride.”
I became good at faking accents and orgasms. I would let him come to me and whatever he wanted is what I would be. I fake. I would let him undress me with his eyes and thread his fingers through my hair. He would pull apart the sutures in my chest and tear my heart out time after time, only to put it back together again, no matter how fragmented he left it. I was his addiction. I never seem to get the person that I want, the one that will embrace my cracks, despite the fact that I hide inside a mannequin shell of false parts and broken appendages.
I live in perpetual obscurity and I deceive everyone., because I am not who I am thought to be and I make everyone believe my illusion. My truth is hard to bear and I am nothing but faded gold against a sea of glittering glory. My existence seems so cold. I am nothing and I suffer alone. I stare out of my window and watch the people pass by, while my life just slips away. I am content to watch others happy, while I sit and wait to die. I can’t bring myself to come forth and be apart of anyone. I can’t break down my cage, because this cage is my protections, a barrier from it all, here I am truly safe. Here I don't have to participate, I don't have to be a part of the scene. I can cry alone in agony, because I'd never share my pain and I can’t take your pity. I hide in this place and fake a smile to the world.
I will be just a woman perfected in death; an illusion bleeding peacefully. There is no hope in confusion and I can’t see everything that I could be. Under all of my tears, my fears are marked by my shadows.
Things are even worst, because I keep thinking about my best friend. You know, the one that was my life force and then committed suicide. It feels like I am surrounded by darkness, everywhere. The pain in my heart is ripping me apart like a poisoned arrow. I didn’t even think that it was possible to hurt this much. He fucking left me alone and for so many months after I would have the most intense hallucinations. I would see a black ocean, a black sky, a black light, and a black lie, everywhere that I looked, because he is gone forever.
I am alone now, because everyone has left me, again. Now, I day dream about the times that we used to share. We were friends since the day I was born and we could've been friends forever, but he decided to hang from that pole. For awhile I was really pissed, because he had left me behind and didn’t take me with him, but anger does not last long and soon I was overcome with sadness. That’s when my shadows appeared and the demons tried to take my heart. I cut it out for them, I wanted them to rip it out, because it would hurt less that the pain.
Just when I have that dagger and I start to make the killing cuts, I start to see black rain falling from the sky. I think that it’s the same black rain that descended upon me on the day that he died. That makes everything more real and I realize that I don’t know what I will become without him. I feel lost without him and I thought that I knew him, but obviously he had more going on than I could comprehend at the time. My grief swallows me and I drown in my black sea of agony. Everywhere is black and there are no colors in my world and no sounds because I refuse to say good bye. He can't be gone.
When I close my eyes, I hear his voice whisper in my ear, "Denial" and then: "Fear.” The only problem is that, when I open my eyes there is no one there and I start to cry once more as I sit on the cold floor, resting my head on my knees, and I close my eyes just to hear his voice again.
I guess that if anyone reads this, they might freak out, but Whoever you may be, I just want to tell you that’s I’ll be fine. I’m fine, really, I’m just writing about shit that so many other people face everyday, but sometimes I can’t take it…I’m weighing down my heart with things I shouldn’t think about, and they’re tearing me apart. I think about my death a lot and I know that’s I shouldn’t do it, but I cant help but wonder what would happen if I left.
Most times, I wonder what would set me off and make me kill myself. I wonder about who would look into my casket and let tears run from their eyes, and touch my cold, dead fingertips, and miss me all their lives. I wonder who would do the eulogy or who would carry my casket. I wonder about who would bring me flowers and be haunted by my ghost. I wonder if anyone would wear a red-hot dress and dance on the earth above me, which makes me wonder if anyone would kick that persons ass in memory of me. I wonder who the lonely one would be, who sits in the back of the funeral and slits their wrists when they get home. I wonder who will forget about my life and who I was and try to live their lives to the fullest, thought they will never be able to. I wonder about who will keep me in their thought and be unable to live a day without my presence, because they loved me so much. In the end, I may not be remembered at all, but these are my thoughts and I may think morbid thoughts, but I can handle my self, so, don’t feel the need to act as my keeper.
To be honest, I wish that you could help me. It’s three in the morning, and I haven’t slept for days. You can laugh if you want, but I’m scared of the dark and my mind is the darkest thing that I know. I close my eyes and his dead face is all I see. I cannot tell you of what I fear, but it’s always on my mind and I cannot escape my nightmare. My eyes are still open and the are wide and bloodshot. You always try to save me, but you cannot reach me. I wish that you could get rid of these images, just so I can sleep and to keep me from going crazy. Each passing day, my paranoia overcomes me and I cannot resist my dark temptations. Everything disappears and all I see is the blood and the cut, but each time it gets worse and maybe one day soon I’ll see death. Now tell me, how can you help save me from this?
If I died today, would you think of me more? If I died today, would you cry for me? If I died today, would you be saddened beyond belief? If I died today, how many people would go to my funeral and mourn? If I died today, would you still my friend? If I died today, would you remember the memories? If I died today, would you write a poem for me? If I died today, would you ever mention me again? If I died today, would everything be okay? If I died today, would you still talk to me? Even if people thought you were crazy? If I died today, would you guess where I went? If I died today, would you still laugh with me? If I died to today, would you have fun even more? If I died today, would you forget the after, and think of the before? If I died today, I’d want you to be the same and I’d want you to mention me. If I died today, I still want to be in your heart. But, if I died today, I’d want you to be happy. I’d want you to think of a better place, Just as I had done before.
I’m starting to ramble so I’m going to end at this, just know that even though this entry seems sad, I’m actually happy. Writing this has put a smile on my face, because I was able to get it all out into the open. So people, be happy, life is full of ups and downs, and though you might have mostly downs, think about all of the people that you would leave behind, if you killed yourself. I do every time I feel the suicide bug bite and I’m still here because of it.
Peace, Love, and Bloody Kisses,
~Turquoise Chrysocolla