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Traditional Artist | Registered: February 23, 2007 05:51:35 PM
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Recent Journal
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18 years ago
Would you rather I close my eyes...
Theydon'tknowthatIburntheydon'tknowthatIburn
She was everyone's pretty angel and a supple little miss sunshine that performed with the equality of when a bell rang, she always got her wings. Running in a field of open flowers brought a smile to those supple lips of tainted roses. But when your grown up and still a child at the same time, those different smiles mix. Reading labels and missing action of the table to know the signs that someone is going to break down, grab a gun, and starting shooting from the clock tower is a very, very, very bad thing.
The interesting lurking within those flashing lazy draped eyes reacting as any member of the essence hood would. Revolution remembered the male being, she recalled the way he would sit her on his large knee when her mother was gone and telling her grand stories of the Gods and Goddess of his homeland. The raging seas that matched her growing delicate being now that seemed to dip and roll, hell she could stop traffic when she walked through a room. When morning comes she was the sunrise of any man's shouldering tears. When the moon comes she was the huntress of their trembles.
Wit.
A simple humor that keeps a world of people together, weaving through the defining normal of what makes a person a person. Divining silken tones of laugther to feed the soul and lift the spirit that springs within us into a new virtue. Like buds of morning brushing off the dewdrops of scattered dawn that reflect the tiny us that wishes to laugh and frolic in a field of plums and wild tulips. Weaving the great moutain into our grasp and the russling of songtress father moon and his low rumbles of midnight hums to the sleeping forest down below.
Raising the glistening glance as he stood next to her, Revolution cocked her head when turning to face the people within the bar. Her long locks of natural raven feathers streaming behind her like raping heavenly skylines. Dripping silence upon sea-cup cakes lips as the red shoes dangled upon her hips. Twirling her glass with the clear crystal reflecting the soft faint glimmer of her tulip lips. Pale and intoxicating that was just touched by that drink did she regard over to him again.
"You and me outside now. I am under orders to let you live, but believe me I think you and I need to get some frustration out... Jang."
Forging her glass as she dropped it absent-minded onto the floor. The shards shattering with an ignoring sound of the ones around them as she stared down at the twinkling deadly pin-points of each broken fixture. Leaving her breathless again in it's fashioning nature. Like those clear mirroring shards did she break her face and whip her face back to him. Wiggling her hips off the stool and marching outside with a swing of her hips.
The scarf that now marked her throat exposing off down her back and onto her arms, the wave of a banner that threatened to be a white flag that she rarely waved.
Believe me she wanted a fight and she wanted one now. He'd meet her outside when he was ready.
Being of poetic and utter artistic understanding of anything that can make any living thing an breathing picture of art itself. Through the typing of figures can the stories of tomorrow well the thoughts of comedy masks of yesterday come together. Understanding the luminary creative trains traveling within the mindscape and never stopping to let the brain cells rest.
Maybe it why she picked the needle, lashing the strap around her forearm and inserting the sparkling sharp tip into a vein. Gasping with panted and liquid smacked lips, pressing the clear and burning substance into the clear blood vessel. Even before it was half-way done, did the eyes of hers glaze over. Smiling at the truth of being a druggie essence.
She loathed being that being.
The very soul and stars that burn in our own eyes, the treasures of our own four leaf clover. Letting it flow and be your happiness, a lullaby to close those eyes. Reaching in and gather the core of what you throw into your creations, the people that are you, the fear, the doubt, the hope, the envy, the frustration, the happiness, the joy, and the so many other compassion emotions that seed the floor of your heart. Growing and feeding off each other in a surreal way and clashing for the wonders that feast upon there.
Laced gloves placed on her tiny hands as she held and turning her attention back to cracked mirror and the reflection that regarded back. Straight laced ivory hair covered her now head, with snowy perfection that dripped down her back. The rainbow of her irises coming out as she moved forward. Staggering until her hand came crashing into the now broken mirror again, what was that now. Two, three, six this month? If it kept the hungry down, believe me it kept it down. Saving one last male the screams and stuttering death that came with Revolution's hungry. A clover scar harsh in the middle of her breasts, vines snaking around it in a black motion with the silver tattoos gleaming on her flesh. Bleeding vines now from the falling glass piercing her flesh and bedding with eerie glossy light shows there.
She moved away, twirling with her fine snowy locks of moonshade shining in the reflected light around them. Colors spiraling in a haze of celestial grace with a crown of stars appearing on her head.
Arms falling with a needle of forgotten heroin empty as it coursed through her system. Creating the nightmares and dreams that made her giddy and this new discovering phase bypassing any pill could do to her mind. At least this left her numb for a few hundred hours.
The pain was so real though around her and flashes of her reflection on the floor parted down the middle. The day in the field with Naline, twirling and escaping as any 'sisters' would and chasing each other with wild briar roses, fragrant daisies to place in their hair. The sun bleaching their sun and the delicate rays warming nature into an early spring fauning feast fest.
Maybe it was just how she was, as her watercolor eyes regarded more of her reflection within the window there. She was raised up to be more than she could be. Though mind you, she isn't a puppet, nor is she fake, but sh isn't God or anything divine. Revolution knew her place within this stand and lived only to serve what she must to keep her 'family' happy. Sad part is the reflection that lay within her eyes, rippling dove feathers serene but utterly calm. Stormy seas within those depths well regarding the picture perfect moment outside. The beautiful stranger that lays within the shadows of a tortured life, oh emoing in her own pit-ful motions that granted another night on her back.
The origami paper lay neatly on the stand near her bead, quiet and unkept like. Hands idly and skillfully with absent-minded nature twirling the bright indigo paper into a star, letting the cheap sparkles shatter around her coco shaded hands. Her prints leaving a mark as this treasure box finger danced still with her red shoes. The colorful paper pieces untouched with the dust of innocence and singing that song to you. To know you is to be part of you, everywhere you go. Swallowed pride in those five pointed puffed out folds and quoting eyes wide shut captions.
The foam against her body as her legs draped over the edge, were like two pale and quivering willow trees. All your dreams revolving in a fucked up merry-go round in your mind. Shutting out the voices of reality and reason in a twisted gold cage. Hell, why should one keep going back to the time and space around us, decaying away in morbid feedings. What's the use?
Somebody out get better get this.
Not many people can do it like.
Sissy? Why do you have a needle?
...sissy?
IT'SDARK?!!SISSY?!!?! SISSY?!!?!?
..I dun..like this game anymore sissy...
they're meanthey'remeanMEANMEAN
..up and down...up and down...up and down...
Maybe it's time Rev we both share the needle?
~...gomen nala, i couldn't keep the monsters away this time.~
It was a poetic sense that made her almost chuckle but the somber nature of her facial expression did not change. She only stiffens for a moment, eyes that betray her body by the pausing of the note around them. Spinning in a dynasty of ethereal romance, and body spiraling downward in a desire of hellish desires. The feelings that were created weaved a heavy sorrow and helplessness, ascending into heavens earthly delights with her dance. Dainty flashes of ivory clothed flesh dancing from the multi-colored lights.
She almost asked him. But even now she was the coward.
The needle could only glisten in the faint light of a lamp, the tip crusted with a few gem-dropping drug liquid. Follow through Revolution, follow through.
..twinkling shards around her, those were her temptation and tears. A broken stop-watch of her life.
Gently lifting her arm to the mirror did a sudden crack flick around it and it exploded. Showing her with a thousand images of the many souls within her, smiling a rag-doll smile and killing her Peter Pan.
She still could feel him trembling under her, jerking as death took it's finally stance. Reaching up to the pretty face that make buttercup blossom then dust in the wind, he thought he found an ethereal paradise but only found the hellish petals that died within it. Rev didn't know his name, didn't care, becoming another pile of bones in the little graveyard that graced the backwards.
Another un-named marker for a midnight ceremony. But it was so..so sweet... the droplets down her chin, riding, riding a horsey...
They don't know I burn. Just waiting for my turn...
Just waiting for my turn...
Maybe...just maybe...
Theydon'tknowthatIburntheydon'tknowthatIburn
She was everyone's pretty angel and a supple little miss sunshine that performed with the equality of when a bell rang, she always got her wings. Running in a field of open flowers brought a smile to those supple lips of tainted roses. But when your grown up and still a child at the same time, those different smiles mix. Reading labels and missing action of the table to know the signs that someone is going to break down, grab a gun, and starting shooting from the clock tower is a very, very, very bad thing.
The interesting lurking within those flashing lazy draped eyes reacting as any member of the essence hood would. Revolution remembered the male being, she recalled the way he would sit her on his large knee when her mother was gone and telling her grand stories of the Gods and Goddess of his homeland. The raging seas that matched her growing delicate being now that seemed to dip and roll, hell she could stop traffic when she walked through a room. When morning comes she was the sunrise of any man's shouldering tears. When the moon comes she was the huntress of their trembles.
Wit.
A simple humor that keeps a world of people together, weaving through the defining normal of what makes a person a person. Divining silken tones of laugther to feed the soul and lift the spirit that springs within us into a new virtue. Like buds of morning brushing off the dewdrops of scattered dawn that reflect the tiny us that wishes to laugh and frolic in a field of plums and wild tulips. Weaving the great moutain into our grasp and the russling of songtress father moon and his low rumbles of midnight hums to the sleeping forest down below.
Raising the glistening glance as he stood next to her, Revolution cocked her head when turning to face the people within the bar. Her long locks of natural raven feathers streaming behind her like raping heavenly skylines. Dripping silence upon sea-cup cakes lips as the red shoes dangled upon her hips. Twirling her glass with the clear crystal reflecting the soft faint glimmer of her tulip lips. Pale and intoxicating that was just touched by that drink did she regard over to him again.
"You and me outside now. I am under orders to let you live, but believe me I think you and I need to get some frustration out... Jang."
Forging her glass as she dropped it absent-minded onto the floor. The shards shattering with an ignoring sound of the ones around them as she stared down at the twinkling deadly pin-points of each broken fixture. Leaving her breathless again in it's fashioning nature. Like those clear mirroring shards did she break her face and whip her face back to him. Wiggling her hips off the stool and marching outside with a swing of her hips.
The scarf that now marked her throat exposing off down her back and onto her arms, the wave of a banner that threatened to be a white flag that she rarely waved.
Believe me she wanted a fight and she wanted one now. He'd meet her outside when he was ready.
Being of poetic and utter artistic understanding of anything that can make any living thing an breathing picture of art itself. Through the typing of figures can the stories of tomorrow well the thoughts of comedy masks of yesterday come together. Understanding the luminary creative trains traveling within the mindscape and never stopping to let the brain cells rest.
Maybe it why she picked the needle, lashing the strap around her forearm and inserting the sparkling sharp tip into a vein. Gasping with panted and liquid smacked lips, pressing the clear and burning substance into the clear blood vessel. Even before it was half-way done, did the eyes of hers glaze over. Smiling at the truth of being a druggie essence.
She loathed being that being.
The very soul and stars that burn in our own eyes, the treasures of our own four leaf clover. Letting it flow and be your happiness, a lullaby to close those eyes. Reaching in and gather the core of what you throw into your creations, the people that are you, the fear, the doubt, the hope, the envy, the frustration, the happiness, the joy, and the so many other compassion emotions that seed the floor of your heart. Growing and feeding off each other in a surreal way and clashing for the wonders that feast upon there.
Laced gloves placed on her tiny hands as she held and turning her attention back to cracked mirror and the reflection that regarded back. Straight laced ivory hair covered her now head, with snowy perfection that dripped down her back. The rainbow of her irises coming out as she moved forward. Staggering until her hand came crashing into the now broken mirror again, what was that now. Two, three, six this month? If it kept the hungry down, believe me it kept it down. Saving one last male the screams and stuttering death that came with Revolution's hungry. A clover scar harsh in the middle of her breasts, vines snaking around it in a black motion with the silver tattoos gleaming on her flesh. Bleeding vines now from the falling glass piercing her flesh and bedding with eerie glossy light shows there.
She moved away, twirling with her fine snowy locks of moonshade shining in the reflected light around them. Colors spiraling in a haze of celestial grace with a crown of stars appearing on her head.
Arms falling with a needle of forgotten heroin empty as it coursed through her system. Creating the nightmares and dreams that made her giddy and this new discovering phase bypassing any pill could do to her mind. At least this left her numb for a few hundred hours.
The pain was so real though around her and flashes of her reflection on the floor parted down the middle. The day in the field with Naline, twirling and escaping as any 'sisters' would and chasing each other with wild briar roses, fragrant daisies to place in their hair. The sun bleaching their sun and the delicate rays warming nature into an early spring fauning feast fest.
Maybe it was just how she was, as her watercolor eyes regarded more of her reflection within the window there. She was raised up to be more than she could be. Though mind you, she isn't a puppet, nor is she fake, but sh isn't God or anything divine. Revolution knew her place within this stand and lived only to serve what she must to keep her 'family' happy. Sad part is the reflection that lay within her eyes, rippling dove feathers serene but utterly calm. Stormy seas within those depths well regarding the picture perfect moment outside. The beautiful stranger that lays within the shadows of a tortured life, oh emoing in her own pit-ful motions that granted another night on her back.
The origami paper lay neatly on the stand near her bead, quiet and unkept like. Hands idly and skillfully with absent-minded nature twirling the bright indigo paper into a star, letting the cheap sparkles shatter around her coco shaded hands. Her prints leaving a mark as this treasure box finger danced still with her red shoes. The colorful paper pieces untouched with the dust of innocence and singing that song to you. To know you is to be part of you, everywhere you go. Swallowed pride in those five pointed puffed out folds and quoting eyes wide shut captions.
The foam against her body as her legs draped over the edge, were like two pale and quivering willow trees. All your dreams revolving in a fucked up merry-go round in your mind. Shutting out the voices of reality and reason in a twisted gold cage. Hell, why should one keep going back to the time and space around us, decaying away in morbid feedings. What's the use?
Somebody out get better get this.
Not many people can do it like.
Sissy? Why do you have a needle?
...sissy?
IT'SDARK?!!SISSY?!!?! SISSY?!!?!?
..I dun..like this game anymore sissy...
they're meanthey'remeanMEANMEAN
..up and down...up and down...up and down...
Maybe it's time Rev we both share the needle?
~...gomen nala, i couldn't keep the monsters away this time.~
It was a poetic sense that made her almost chuckle but the somber nature of her facial expression did not change. She only stiffens for a moment, eyes that betray her body by the pausing of the note around them. Spinning in a dynasty of ethereal romance, and body spiraling downward in a desire of hellish desires. The feelings that were created weaved a heavy sorrow and helplessness, ascending into heavens earthly delights with her dance. Dainty flashes of ivory clothed flesh dancing from the multi-colored lights.
She almost asked him. But even now she was the coward.
The needle could only glisten in the faint light of a lamp, the tip crusted with a few gem-dropping drug liquid. Follow through Revolution, follow through.
..twinkling shards around her, those were her temptation and tears. A broken stop-watch of her life.
Gently lifting her arm to the mirror did a sudden crack flick around it and it exploded. Showing her with a thousand images of the many souls within her, smiling a rag-doll smile and killing her Peter Pan.
She still could feel him trembling under her, jerking as death took it's finally stance. Reaching up to the pretty face that make buttercup blossom then dust in the wind, he thought he found an ethereal paradise but only found the hellish petals that died within it. Rev didn't know his name, didn't care, becoming another pile of bones in the little graveyard that graced the backwards.
Another un-named marker for a midnight ceremony. But it was so..so sweet... the droplets down her chin, riding, riding a horsey...
They don't know I burn. Just waiting for my turn...
Just waiting for my turn...
Maybe...just maybe...
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Essence Koala
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I can dance ta.
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