I've always sucked at being honest.
When I was little I lied for fun, to see if I could get away with it.
When I grew up I lied as a means of surviving, to keep everyone out.
I suck at trusting people.
Pretty much everyone I've trusted more than a little has broken my heart in the worst way they can.
Maybe not because they meant to, maybe just because they were thoughtless or slipped.
I'm overly sensitive, I know this.
But some did mean to. One or two set out from the start to hurt me.
I'm good at keeping grudges. Even if I never do anything, I never forget either.
I wish I had a gargoyle to guard my heart.
But then again, if nothing at all got in, I couldnt feel as happy as I do right now.
So I try again. I open my heart and let someone in, and we'll see if this time, maybe...

Wow. its really been a year since i gave up on this blog.
Guess the semi-emo poetry vein ran out.
Lets try something else then.
How 'bout a round of honesty?
Lets see...

This is the girl, alone.
See her tears, laugh at her misfortunes.
How delightful her sobs must be, to make you smile so.


This is the girl, alone.
Heart on the floor, bleeding under your boot.
Does it please you to see her broken for you?

This is the girl, pining away.
Always out of reach, this elusive something she chases.
To belong, to be loved.
Beloved of mine.
Always the hope of this time, this bed, this man, this woman.
No more to cry, to search in vain for nightmares to fill the void.

This is the girl outside.
Cold, sweat dripping down her back.
Eyes darting trying to watch everything all at once.
Strapped in, turned out, made up.
Smile.
Dont shiver.
Smile.
Bite your tounge so you dont cry.
Smile damn you, Smile!

This is the girl, fever in her blood.
Heaped in blankets, wrapped in fur, shivering still.
Longing more than ever for something she will never have.
So far away.



This is the girl at midnight,
face bathed in the light of the screen.
Bluish glow washing away colours, lines around her mouth deepening.

This is the girl, borrowed bed, borrowed life.
Borrowed smile, plastered on a face made of ice.
Cold, cold heart, not caring.
Will he hurt?
This life, so distant.
Eating crumbs of joy, ashes in her mouth.