The Light Shone

Through the translucent glassBut the dark stayed outside

[paintedoverwindows]

Once upon a midnight star

A man had wandered very far

He’d come to find a place to stay

Instead he entered an epic fray

But he found he liked the fight

Aiding the comets in their plight

What seemed like specks of sparkling dust

Had woes and throes of consuming lust

Stories to rival Helen of Troy

Beauty and horror and traitorous ploy

The comets knew the truth of their folly

But saw no cause to end their volleys

The man switched sides with rabid glee

As the fighters held no loyalty

And losers fell unto the earth

Into a violent rebirth

[paintedoverwindows]

I would lay so still when your hands crept over me

I wonder if you knew I wasn’t asleep

I couldn’t move I couldn’t breathe 

I hated the feeling of you on me

[paintedoverwindows]

grace thinks I dyed my hair pink to be pretty. 

she thinks it didn’t work.

what she doesn’t think about is that I dyed my hair to look pretty to ME not to her. 

[paintedoverwindows]

She huddled inwards, curling into a bundle of shivers. The words had felt like knives sinking into her. He was dead. Her grandfather had died, and she hadn’t been there. She’d been too far away to come, she’d made the practical decision not to, but when she’d heard that he’d passed away without her … all the promises she’d made to him that she’d broken. That she would make something of herself, become a writer. What a joke. She couldn’t even succeed at keeping a friendship going let alone a relationship. She worked two jobs and wasted her money on tattoos. She wore worn out clothes. Jeans with holes in the thighs and ragged cuffs. She wasn’t ever going to become anything worthwhile if she didn’t figure out how to motivate herself before the weight of the inertia became too much. Maybe it already had.

[paintedoverwindows]

I don't want to be angry I know it's for the best But still it makes me burn with rage As sadness fills my chest I know I wasn't enough for you I couldn't be open and pure Still I thought you'd wait for me Until my feelings were sure I thought I mattered enough to you That I could take my time, I hoped that I could break through That fear's tangling vine But you need something I can't give An open willing soul So now it seems I must writhe Back in my cage I go

[paintedoverwindows]

this is the sound of me sliding down

back into the well in which i almost drowned

this is the comforting sound

of those dark waters pulling me down

[paintedoverwindows]

I miss you in january

I miss you in febuary

I miss you in march

I miss you in april

I miss you in may

I miss you in june

I miss you in july

I miss you in august

I miss you in september

[paintedoverwindows]

I’ve never dated anyone that I’ve really liked before. I didn’t dislike them but they were always strangers. People I’d just met who were warm for my form. And they fell for me and I felt empty. It never lasted. I can’t love that way. But this .. This scares me. I’m so happy but so anxious and I don’t know whether I want to smile or scream. I like you and it’s terrifying. I like you and it’s amazing.

[paintedoverwindows]

They left her alone in the dark again. She hated them but she hated being alone more. Their clawing nails and cold breath at least made her feel less alone. They wanted her, even if only so they could cause her pain. At least she was useful for something. At first she had craved the light and air but now she feared it. That vague memory seemed threatening. Having choices? Such stress, such fear. Better to not have to try anything and stay down here.

[paintedoverwindows]

Once upon a time there was a little cat ghost. She wanted to be pet but no one could see her. She wanted to claw things but her paws went right through. She tried to pounce on mice but they didn't even notice her. She meowed plaintively but nothing could make anyone notice her. She grew angry. And the angrier and more twisted her form became the more her pain grew. She scampered in the corner of people's eyes making them turn their heads, and slunk across the ceiling. She learned to make people feel cold with fear and shiver. She blew her frigid breath upon the mice and watched their hearts explode with fear. She eventually found all of this quite fulfilling and lived happily ever after as a poltergeist.

[paintedoverwindows]

I always feel like I have to be useful to people to justify my relationships with them. A lot of my friends I'm emotional support for, or I help them think of things they've never thought of. I help them write their essays or help them learn to sing. I write stories for them or cuddle with them and make them feel special. But some people don't want or can't accept emotional support, can think of wild ideas without me, don't want help with essays, don't want to sing. If I write a story for them they won't read it. And those people drive me insane. No matter how much I like them if I can't give them anything why would they need me? And if they don't need me who can say they won't find someone who does have something they want then discard me? And then there are the people who only want things from me that I can't give. I can't be anyone's substitute mother and I won't pretend to be stupid so you can feel intelligent. I won't become a doll you can pose any way you like and I won't spy on other people for you. Sometimes I lose to the temptation of feeling needed and find myself doing these things anyway, but I always regret it. I just need to be needed so very badly. If I feel like I'm not needed I get so afraid. Let me help you. For me.

[paintedoverwindows]

Did you ever pick up a smooth flat rock from the ground and find that on the other side it was dirty and jagged, maybe with a few bugs crawling on it? People who first meet see only the polished and clean side of each other, and hide the rough and grimy edges from each other for as long as they can. But once they show that ugly side of themselves finally, is there anyone who will still love them afterwards?

[paintedoverwindows]

Help Help Help She screams but no one deigns to answer And you wonder What it must be like To have to call for help so many times that they no longer hear you Your voice is coarse, your lungs burn and still no one cares You hear them walking by nonchallantly talking No one cares when you cry

[paintedoverwindows]

Happiness is a habit. A habit you've broken. But habits can be learned again.

[paintedoverwindows]

Sometimes all you can do is wait. I pressed my back against the door and tried not to hear the yelling from the other side of it. Sometimes I drowned out the sound with my CD player until the batteries were dead. Even without hearing it the anger soaked into my room, staining the air with its sourmilk stench. I never left my room. I hardly ever ate. This wasn’t a world I wanted to live in here, in this ‘reality’. I lived in books. Sometimes I could hear the sounds and smell the smells and I sank from this dismal world. My mother had to beg me to eat, to get up, to ever leave that place where I was happy. Real life could never measure up. Until one day, instead of my entering the story, the story instead came to me.

[paintedoverwindows]

Yell into the wind and swallow your words Choke on your apologies gag on your platitudes You might as well be screaming into the wind Those carefully concocted thoughts reach no one No one who matters Talk all you like no one will listen

[paintedoverwindows]

Hold onto your happiness, folks! You're in for a bumpy ride!