#1
Dear S&L, hear me, hate me, I come with nothing to give you

If I told anyone of the shadows outside
The ones hiding like me, under cars and
Flickering (awake sleep) between the negative space
Of tree branches on the sidewalk
They wouldn’t touch me,
Pull on their scarves,
They wouldn’t look at me,
Their skin a tower of babel.

Speak to me, language, it’s been a while since I have written, but I have key marks on my chest again and so I feel like it is time again, to let you hear my muscles make music, convulsing to plead to you. I’m so sorry, I don’t have the concrete details, I don’t have any of the shit you want me to tell you, this won’t be appreciated, I’m not original, you hate me, I know it, my crowd, my audience. Fourteen year old kid aspires to be me, maybe, I assure you what I’ve written, what you look up to isn’t even close to what I’m capable of, I speak to myself on the sixth floor fire-escape of my college dorm and tell myself stories of why my mind is so forlorn. I contemplate why I can’t seem to cry anymore, why the devils of science know why I’m a devil, I’ll tear me apart, I cant keep tense there, I cant keep memories there, I cant keep days straight, ideas straight, I’m so unnaturally ready to tell you I’ll die. No melodrama, I could tell you so many things. So many definitions of ignorance, who are you, I ask whoever will listen on my phone, drunk on so many definitions of constellations, what do they sound like I ask, why are cars made so easy to kill. Fifteen year old girl drinks too much, she doesn’t like what I write, neither do I anymore, I don’t have a goal anymore, I write for you, I scream for you from the parking garage when I know no one is in the world anymore ever. Speak to me, language, take the hankerchief from my hands and neck, stop myself from— did I ever tell you how this girl loved me, only not really, I just wished she did from across the room playing guitar faster, carouswheel, you want words? I got them. You want them together originality Alex Otto Jamie, you want that shit. I got them wrapped up in my brain. You don’t understand what goes through my head when I have a mummy costume on, so many loose threads and ends, shredded sheet strings, nooses. I’ve had one glass of wine tonight, and I know that I can’t be nothing. I know you hate cliché, you hate unspecific drivel, you hate hearing about me, you hate me telling you instead of showing, you hate reading things you don’t care about, you hate this sentence, this paragraph this piece, but you have to know how much this piece means to me. I will never get published and I will never be better than you. I went trick-or-treating tonight throughout the rich town of Bronxville then lined up the candy on a girls floor and took pictures of us. I am nothing. I’ll say it again. You hate this. But know this, no one has ever known this but myself. Imagine I’m there, right beside you, my heart against your shoulder and breath hot against your ear. Imagine my lungs take in the same air you do and breathe them out into your soul. Imagine me crying for salvation. One phrase: “I am suicidal. Save me.” It sounds so simple, so easy to say on paper. Imagine me shaking my lips, imagine you see the white marks on my chest right above my birthmark. Imagine literature was at it’s inception, was just a story told at night to a child, and imagine the fear that would run through the world, the small shiver through the night air when you imagine that a story could so easily, come to an end, just like that. A sheet slip tied around a neck in a dorm room from the sprinkler.

Morning comes
Swift like a wink
From your lover
Who knows exactly
How you’re going to die.
You both have looked at your hands,
Have seen the wrappings
And have always known which part of the sky
You’re going to end up in
(not there, but here, among the shadows
please, Angels of the earth don’t follow)

Please. This is real. Believe this. Cherish this truth at least for a minute today.
Then move on to the climb, up and up your own skin, then look down and smile.
#2
nice wall of text. The only reason I don't like it, is because I don't like stories that go like this, though for somebody that is into it, it might be good, I don't know.
Save a trip to the RT!
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#3
Sigh.
マリ「しあわっせはーあるいってこないだーからあるいってゆっくんだねーん 
いっちにっちいっぽみーかでさんぽ
 さーんぽすすんでにっほさっがるー 
じーんせいはっわんつー!ぱんち・・・


"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching

Last edited by culex-knight at Nov 1, 2008,
#5
I liked a lot of this. I really related to this a lot. Particularly the death and suicide parts, which is horribly depressing, but it's so true. Overall, the things you say are really wonderful, but I, in a way feel that they are only stained by lines like "you hate this" or "believe this" or "this is real." I'd like it much more if you just said what you wanted. But then again, I don't know how much those lines are essential to what you are trying to say. Good job. I'd like your opinions on my piece (link below). I accidentally "stole" the "I'll die" bit, but it is two words that anyone could have used so...meh

http://ultimate-guitar.com/forum/showthread.php?t=990324
#7
Well. I think it's safe to say you have just addressed every annoying quirk of the people on this site, and indeed this world. I don't know what to say without irritating any literary wounds you may have but this is desperateness on paper, and i'm worried about you. message me if you've got something to say to someone youll never meet. I care, promise.
I know you think that I'm someone you can trust.
But I'm scared i'll get scared and i swear i'll try to nail you back up.



Female SouperHero