Clearly.

You Are Not The Majority.




Feel good about that.

Miss take

I find myself in pain as my head is banged against the walls of these ideas for ever more I am yours in the cement you have created for me, my chamber so I am destined to sleep here, against the cold rock floor, in order to give you happiness, in order to make you smile... in order for me to die a little bit with each breath as I hold your hand.

Nighttime affair.

You'd think it would be understandable that I was never awake.
For those moments when my eyes met yours, and I felt your truth and warmth against my body.
And every moment after was a dream... Spiritually alluring and miraculous.
And as I scream your name and find heaven in your palms....
I see through all that exists to a reality we can create.
Under the mystery of the covers.
In a bed that can never be made, just lives.
In a home that was never our own...
Until the night we found each other.
Comforting.


For every night after I found myself asleep.
Awaking as my doppelganger in your arms again...
In someone else's sheets.

Pigtails

Every little girl waits in line for the white utility van.
Living day after day hoping one day the door will slide open.
Ragged to face, head on the metal floor.
Zip ties and strip mall fantasies speeding by,
twitching of the eye as the lights dance past like a parasol's twirl.

And I shall keep you. Your new name is Anna. I am a software engineer, you are home schooled.
Your mother died three years ago, and we are very close.

He said, sipping monochromatic tea out of a shot glass behind a white Pickett fence.
Nightfall brings safety pinned clothing to ensure their placement, though it never stops your pants from sliding to your ankles.
In a pink bed, with a floral pattern.
Clasped hand over screaming young mouths.

She said "I'll let you borrow my soul"
And greedily he took it,
allowing it to fall into the abyss of his dark side.
Eating the candy leading to the guillotine.

Your neck was the perfect fit.
Too bad the blade is so damn dull.

The Taking.

One. Pressed. Pair. Of. Lips.
Destined for every inch of your body, glistening.
Whimpers and whispers and delightful banter as my tongue caresses your skin like a flower.
Bare hand touches Bare hand.
Bare hand touched Bare thigh.
Bare thigh touches Bare leg.
Bare leg wraps around bare torso.
Bare torso presses down on bare breasts.
Bare Breasts exhaul loudly through pressed lips.
Pressed lips find the words "I love you" on the caressing tongue..


And blank mind finds bliss.

Beautiful.

Relapse

I inhale your smoke deeply like the summer's dusty smiles on the harbor.
And as my teeth break on every ounce of bone beneath your torn skin,
I understand the true meaning of "Red is your color".
I enjoy every inch of whatever it is I am eating,
and soon I know, in my heart, it's your soul.
Dripping sinister like Mary's foul mouth on Sunday's mass.
The lamb on the table, next to the salt, poured into each wound.
Intricately designed in webbing of my eyes, entangled and hanging patiently..
Awaiting the death to engulf you like the sea beneath your smile.
Sun licking the tips of your fingers, begging for aloe vera and the singing of the passing leaves.
I know the little girl who stands day after day selling flowers on the highway.
She is me, at night, when I slip on my stockings and walk downtown barefoot.
Flashing cars that drive by in hopes one will stop, kidnap me, and I'll end up tomorrows trash.
Compacted into a tiny cube, stored beneath the Earth awaiting for rebirth.

Into the flower..
She sells today.
A red rose.

How beautiful.

Just keep chewing.

Suddenly Eclipse

My heart pounds in the pit of my stomach
and every time I open my eyes, I can't see through the murky water ahead.
like swimming with tunnel vision, my breath becoming rapid like the hurricane winds that only exist with the rare flap of a gilded butterfly wing.
I am mesmerized by the light behind your eyes.
I am naked in front of your soul, ice breaking against my legs like glass.


I'm drowning.

No communication.

I've sealed so many envelopes in my life.
Words of intention licked to the edges,
Packed silently away, a memory and a postage paid.
And into my bag, slipped for safe keeping.

I've kept to many address books in my life.
Phone numbers memorized and programmed into every device.
Voices echoing through the receiver.
and into my mind, other's words are absorbed.

I've hugged so many people.
I've told so many the truth.
I've said I love you.
We've both cried over lost time.

Why?

Everyone knows the only hope we have is in a lost title.
Stuck somewhere between morality and insanity.

But you... Every time I pick up a pen,

I write entire essays, fill envelopes..
I always tear up your cards and letters.

I pick up the phone, I dial your number.
But the call never connects. I hang up.
Or leave messages I know you'll never return.

This isn't war, or hate, or disgust.

I simply cannot live with my past.
And you.. are the holder of it.

I'm so sorry.

Childhood

I want to make your palm grow trees and vines
Like the signs we missed saying "No turn on red"
In my head your still the same
Five years old, missing teeth, gleaming.
Icecream drip drip drip down the cheeks
and the weeks I'd miss school and pretend to be an adult.
We'd play dolls in a townhouse in a neighborhood that was manufactured.
My eyes getting misty as I think about the times we'd hide under my bed
and tell eachother fake vows and promises of marriage and happily ever after
Now we're adults.
And here you are...
Standing up against gay marriage.



I guess you were always good at lying at me.

Who are you?

The Plastic

Her painted eyebrows slanted slightly up
As if to constantly imply a quizzical nature.
My hands ran past her hips and up her sides
Drawing red marks in ink, promising compromise under the knife.
"A little to the left, just there, okay.. We'll fix that"
And the mumbling from those red lips sounded like
Oh yes. Oh yes.
She was beautiful before those days in the sun
The rays of light caressing her body like Divine intervention
I know in my head it will all be alright.
The insertion of the tube in her throat is only temporary, right?
She'll be breathing on her own again?



Right?




They inserted the silicone beneath perfect skin
Supple and waiting eagerly for idealism.

Why did my angel de-wing herself?
Why did she fall so suddenly into the operating room?
If I could catch her, would she claw her way out of my embrace?


Her eyes filled with relief and then went blank

I kissed her forehead and looked at her one last time.
Remembering the way she was, before that day

Lights out

To the Hospital

To think
My moans of pleasure are similiar to that of my groans of pain.
To feel exhausted after proceedures like I do after love making.
To know that I may die of pleasure, or in pain.
It all feels the same
Just one I'd die willingly.
The other, miserably.

But why?

It's all in my head.

Asphyxiation

Your eyes met mine in a bed,
I bled,
as your thighs brushed against me like an animal.
I inhaled and begged for your hands
To trap
my escaping gasps.
Oh yes, choke me
He said yes
and out of distress
My orgasm erupted
Onto him

Your turn
My hands burnt
against your neck
The terrified look
in your eyes
told me
you liked it

I did, too.

Born on the Fourth Of July

Sideways, she walked down the cerebral cortex.
Constantly looking from side to side, bending down to touch the earth.
Ah, yes, we know him so well in the galleys of our mind.
Strung up like Christmas lights sparkling in the window of a brothel.
She's talking in two tongues.
Something that sounds like French and a mix of Southern Hospitality.
Her allergy to silver never satisfied her fashion needs.
Wearing the metal until she bled,
crying "OH the things I do for fashion.."
A life gripped in her palm,
Enclosed with the star-y, the spangle-y, and the banter.
Oh yes, mad man grow in such futuristic settings.
And if you would have listened to the floor boards,
Instead of The Pledge of Alligence...
You'd hear Tom Waits filling the delivery room,
Cold words from a coarse mouth.
"I don't have a drinking problem 'Cept when I can't get a drink."

He was born.
He was Born.
Born he was..
On this day..
That we.. Couldn't give a flying fuck about.
But God Damn, raise your glass..
For the fucking mad man himself.
Born on the Fourth of July. (Poor thing)


Happy Birthday!
"I'll take a rusty nail, scratch your initials in my arm..."

Eve

White drop.. drip drip drip.
Chemical biohazard.
Solid water inform in line.
Oh, we know of your secrets.
Do not be alarmed.
Just lap it up,
tongue to the floor.
Shh Shhh
It's okay.
It'll taste better after you wash it down with the draino.

The most beautiful suicide

You've seen it in your hindsight.
Speakers blaring cold to the white noise.
You've seen it in your foresight.
Twisted metal harnessed her midsection like a crown
Poking through her ribcage like a sad lover, dwelling.
Candle flame licks the walls,
The tubes in your throat bare witness to the protest in your head.
And your hands fasten the seatbeat and tell you to close your eyes and count to ten.
Preacher man begs for forgiveness, for his father may never know his secrets.
Wishful fists bang against empty walls, hoping for the plug in your eyes to come loose...
And let out that slippery soul you once taped to your chest like a miracle.
Oh yes, I've done it all and there is no way to retrace my steps.
She's gleaming heartless in the bounty of sheets and sex.
And it just keeps rolling down the hallway.
Bodies filled caskets.. Caskets filling hollow ground. Hollow ground filling the void in your mind.
And over and over.
I cannot retrace my steps.
I cannot fall up and back into the window.
I'd lure her away from the skyline
and into the bed to comfort her headless thoughts.
But no.
She saw the sky floating above her.
She reached up and touched heaven one last time.
The car embraced her like a silent kiss.
And when we saw her finally asleep we smiled in delight.

Evelyn McHale 1924-1947

Birth

The drapes never fit this room.
The drapes never fit your womb.
And she stole the cradle
and with it the world.
Prostitues knew before she had a clue
about the infant growing swollen like
her belly.
and if time played it's cards
you'd know life beginning was not so far
away from the reasons she should have said no
In the back of a car
drunk and smitten
man caressing her bare sides
offering her a ride
into an exsistance she could never deny
now that this baby was inside
of her
becoming
real.

Work brings Freedom

She was kidnapped by her doppelganger.
Strangled behind the loveseat in the home of a paramour,
Disguised as a stiff suit with blackjack eyes.
Ah, yes, those dancing orbs she called eyelids.
Blinking misfortune, something like ten million to one.
You'd think her burning hair would wear her head like the grande finale'
But no. No. No.
She just laid there.. fear escaping her lips like whimpers of help.
The enemies gates slamming shut, with her inside.
She is unreachable.
Her body strung up like a Auschwitz ballerina.
The fields cause seizures within her mind.
Hands bleeding as they rub off on the pole


"Arbeit macht frei."

Pieds Parlants

Curled toes to the sky, praying for saliva.
Bathed by the twisted idea of the hair on the back of your neck standing up.
My goodness..
What have I done?



No one answered.

The end.

Her hair fell down her face like the end of yesterday's symphony.
Magically tied together by the qualms twirling in their stomach,
She begged for tongues to wither in her mouth as she exhaled.
No one would understand the meaning of her truth until she died.
And as the Pharaohs of her past came echoing out of her throat.
She washed them back down with bourbon and prescription medication.
Foaming at the mouth, she smiled in the mirror.
Laying her head on her pillow, eyes memorizing the ceiling.
Waltzing with images of marrow and wonder if she will make it.
Hoping she won't.

But has she really?

Sweet Dreams

My eyes scanned your legs like scarabs in the womb.
Defying what is time, and sending your head back.
Chin pointed to the sky, tongue lapping the nape of your neck.
Eager sighs of ecstacy, born and awake like a screaming child.
Hands drifting up, and back down, slow rythm.
Your bottom lip begging for more as I twirled my finger around..
What we called "yours", as mine soaked the sheets.
One hand wandering behind your back, manuvering the holster of your breasts
My eyes meet yours one last time..
And the gun I held to the back of your head went off.
Death came quivering in, as shock drained from your face.
Your blood decorating my thighs like an envelope of red silk.
and I knew what I had done.


Goodnight my lover.

Acquaintances

Have you ever took a look back at yourself throughout the years?
I grew up in a computer age, and my prior selves seem to still linger on the Internet.
Through google I was able to find pictures of myself, myself naked, my writing, my old user names, and my old tastes and likes... How bizarre.
Well nice to meet you.
I'm what you have become.

Nothing is sacred. Not even time.
Not anymore.


[ What am I without the bruises? ]

Scapegoat

It slipped between the cracks
Like raw sand and hands mended together by thoughts we never kept.
Secretly disposed of by the twilight of night
and if you looked inside the hole, you'd notice the girl staring back.

Eyes glistening something pretty,
Like tiny moons casting over the dark sky, blue.
And if you knew her so well, how did she fall?
How did it get past you all?
As she drown in the floorboards of a house you never meant to own.

In a basement where lies lay their eggs to hatch
and draw back
before she notices you're gone
Because she will.
She will.

Just in case

And your toes never pointed quite to the sky,
Mirroring the truth, disguised by women torn up with dispair.
Pirouettes of yesterdays ballets, broken foot and swollen ankle.
Held up to the sun, bent on turning the scaffolding into a Kangaroo court.
The babies out, the bathwater too, and now we have a tub to drown our sorrows in.
Slit wrists interupted by seismic waves of distress.
Flailing arms fell victim to the passing train,
screams echoeing through this empty station.
Ghost of past remind us now the present is just as bad.
And if you sit and listen long enough
These walls speak, in tongues of our entangled lifes.
We are all the same, in the dark.
Noose around your neck, just waiting.
I once knew a man who kept cyanide capsules in his briefcase
He worked on wallstreet.
When asked why, he said.
"Just in case"

Blow

Pick up those pieces... and throw them to the wind.
Watch the dust fly, past your eyes..
Into the night.

Sway

If I can't save myself, who will?
I'm at the ledge, and the updraft is causing me to sway.
Yikes, how the fuck did I end up here again.
My mind shifts between reality and fantasy.. My heart aches and yet I don't know why.
Slice Slice Slice Slice. Sigh.
I feel like I put myself here, on this chopping block.
Yet why am I the one holding the cleaver?

...And I still don't know how the fuck I got here.

Tick Tock Tick Tock

The times when you heart sinks to far to your feet your can feel the rocks pressing against it on the ground are the times that make me the happiest.
Not at that moment, of course..
But to know that something can scare me that much reminds me that I am alive.
And that is what I am, alive.
You may not believe it, I know, but it's true! I swear!!!
I won't vomit blood on your pretty new dress, there will be no shooting me in the head.
Unless you feel so compelled (But please don't, I like my head very much.)
My life is currently filled with exciting and scary situations. :)
And if you know me, then you know I could not be more ecstatic about it.
New and amazing people are rushing into my life and hopefully they'll be around for awhile.
And old amazing people are coming back my way to be amazing with me! YAY!
I've found comfort lately in knowing that when life cuts you short, selling your qualities for sanctuary is simply not an option, but when you can fake it... Fake it so well, even you believe it.
I'm believing it. And for those who deserve the magical middle finger, let me take this time to say the biggest Fuck you. In the Ass. Suck my Dick. Choke on it. That's right. I Hate you.
Okay :) I'm better now.
and if you're reading this, that wasn't for you.. teehee. ^_^
SOOOOOO What's new?
I've discovered masturbating is the best medicine. Have a headache? Masturbate!
Dying of lymphoma, masturbate and go to a doctor. But masturbate first. This way, you'll at least be pleased whilst awaiting the results. And when all else fails and the *shit* hits the fan, masturbate with the doctor. :) But only if he or she is attractive.
What else?
Um... OH! I've discovered I love music more than I knew. Which is quite silly because this isn't something new for me. I knew this for quite awhile. But I am completely transfixed with the gorgeous Karen O and her amazing moaning-esque segment in "Zero" on the albums "It's Blitz" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs...If you want to hear some good, exciting music, I highly recommend this song.
I've started drinking coffee.. :( I feel as if this is a downslide for me. Next you'll find me in the parking lot blowing hobos for pennies for my next fix of meth.. Okay, guys, hear me out. If that happens.. Please do shoot me in the head. :D
But yeah, coffee and I finally agree and my stomach was like "Alright, but you can only play together once a day or else I'm putting a stop to it."..So basically if I acceed more than 1 cup a day I vomit all over the place... Which is not only disgusting but uncomfortable for me.
I've started writing again, and I finally got a book of my poetry published.. Which is exciting to say the least. If you are truely interested, contact me on here..


Til then, Ta-ta.
-V