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mood |
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 blah |
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music |
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Vanessa Carlton- A Thousand Miles |
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Flash Back to June 2001.
An old Journal entry with a poem that I absolutely love now.
The glass shatters upon the floor of marble.
The picture frame is wrecked and the photograph contained by it is torn to shreds.
On the inside I know my soul is dead.
The shadows on the walls surrounding me are petrifying.
The thoughts that you are putting in my head are making my body quake.
The way your looking at me from way over there is making my hands shake.
I turn away but there you are again in my face with the knife up against my throat.
I try to run but only in vain because you are there, terrorizing me again.
Your eyes are so hypnotizing and the walls move towards me simultaneously.
You manipulated me with every move and footstep you take.
I am asleep lying on the frozen ground and I wish I were awake.
Your eyes stare endlessly into your own soul wondering why.
The lies you told me are all I can perceive and the perfect harmony that I was to receive.
The walls are always altering, stirring and crushing me.
The beauty that lies behind those eyes of steel gray is so far beyond me to see.
They are never feeling, never believing what they see on the outside.
I can look beyond the steel and see the inside.
I know I will always be the girl on the outside looking in the pale gray shutters.
You lay back and pick out an old magazine from the stack.
A blood red tear falls from my face onto the knife below me.
A star bursting inside of the tender heart I contain.
The pitter-patter of the raindrops outside is driving me insane.
You walk across the room and close the shutters turn around and mutter something.
I sit on the chair bond to the back and stare lifelessly at the pictures on the wall that are mocking me.
You kiss me on the lips and I can feel sugarcoated bullshit.
You have a temper-tantrum because the kiss wasn’t meant for two.
But on the inside my soul is dead and I just can’t take it.
Then again here is the knife up against my throat again cutting deeper into the skin.
You roam around the world believing you are the devil’s kin.
Kissing me again and you rip away all the dignity left within me.
The bottom feels so cold and unsafe and I just want to runaway.
There are those walls moving closer around me, firming their grip around my neck.
Strangling me to death, manipulating me to do whatever they want.
My body and soul is a tornado-wrecked village with no one inside.
You twist the knife deeper into my soul and tear it out with one thrush.
Why?
I don't know why I wrote this. I have never wrote anything with such a deep meaning that probably nobody but me will get. I don't think I am finished with this one yet. I need to work on it some more because it feels like it is missing something and that I just want to write it.
How I wish he was online but I hope he is having a great time wherever he is.
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ecstatic
okay
hopeful
sore
blank
curious
disappointed
confused
drained
anxious
busy