You're waiting for someone
To put you together
you're waiting for someone
to push you away
You never did nodice
That you still hide away
Angry at Angels who won't return

He is everything you want
He is everything you need
He is everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why

Sex.

Easy.

Honestly it is. Sex is nothing. It's just two bodies (sometimes) mutually fulfilling one another's carnal urges. I could have sex with anyone. It's the fears of disease, and pregnacy that keep me from screwing any idiot I find attractive on the street. I have a very healthy sexual libido. And like I said sex would be nothing for me, if I could have sex.

But I can't. I've only been able to have sex with one person.

Something within me, makes love. There is a difference. There is something inside of me that yearns for the trust I once instilled in Dale to once again be instilled in another. But Dale was a special circumstance. I gave my virginity to save his life. I gave him my innocence to make him eat again. A noble cause to save someone's life, and I loved him.

Loved, is the correct form and tense of the verb.

Still there are times when I'm dying for someone to be as honest, as bestial, has he was. He had no shame in pressing himself against me, and he had no shame is telling me that he like my ass in those jeans. His used crass, vulgar language in my presence, and it riled me. 

There is something to be said for gentlemen though.

All the gentlemen in my life, Toni, Josh, Dan, and Mike, men who are either unsure of who they are, overly sure of who they are, or just have their minds set and their hearts decided. Men who would open doors, pull out chairs, and hold a girl all night. A man to protect a fair siren when her body was raked with inconsistancies and pain. Men who are happiest when she lifts her soul to the sky and once again takes her place, crying that she has to go, happy that she is allowed to be happy, and happier still to have known a girl. It is for these people that I do not abandon myself, and my loving ways.

People mistake flirtation for healing. Men will believe that no one wants them, and instead of using meaningless words that are useless on paper and even more uselessly thrown about, I use my skin. Touch is a powerful and underestimated sense. When one cannot see, and one refuses to register voice, and taste and sight no longer mean anything to them, touch can reach them. 

Hold me, hold me. I want to be touched, I want to be held. I want your softness, your warmth, the smell of your hair and the carress of your breathe. I want to be held, and made to feel once more human, and once more alive. Touch can do that. Love in the form of sex, can do that.  

Father who art in heaven
Reverberating his name
Within the walls of my once safe haven
Slowly driving me insane

The slices come quicker
Tears are fast to fall
The blood trickle is slicker
I never was at all

Crimson angels of the black brigade
Swords drawn and pointed
I can feel my spirit slide and fade
The ground my blood annointed


I'm a happy person. I promise I am.

Fly me into the stars
Into the sky
Weightless for a moment
For a moment I can fly

And then the wieght returns
I fall into my place
Hair shrouding my eyes
As I return back to my race

I'm no unicorn, no mythical creature
I am not an angel
I'm only beautiful
When my eyes blaze with anger

If a scream could be felt
Within these words of pain
Then the reader would understand
The sting of acid rain

I don't belong anywhere
I feel like that again
I feel like I'm left behind
And no one will be my friend

Continue on and do not question
The lost of justification
Within my juridiction
This is my pain, intense with conviction


Help me.

I've been
Alone
All
Along

Frida Kahlo is probably one of the best movies I've seen in a long long time. I mean you don't get that kind of misery and intrigue anywhere very often. And the women on there, yum yum. Frida's sister Cristine, hot mama. Personally my favorite part had to be the one where Frida and Diego first made love. She told him she had a scar, he asked to see it, and he called her perfect. She was what God had made her to be and she was perfect in His eyes, and so she was perfect in Diego's eyes as well. I also liked the part where she was standing at the top of the pyrimids talking to the Russian communist and she tells him about how she's always been in pain, but that she is alright because at the end of the day we can take much more than we think we can. 

Dale likes the part where Frida catches Diego with Cristine and she say's "She's my fucking sister." Pretty funny stuff.

I also like the part where she was in Paris and she is writting a letter to Diego and it shows all of the people she's talked to and all the people she slept with, and all the things she's done, but in the letter it still ends that she loves him, that Paris is nothing without him.

That's REAL love I guess.

I woke up this morning in nothing but my underwear this morning, next to Dale who was completely naked. It felt nice. The first thing I saw this morning was him. The first things I heard this morning were him saying "You really pretty." It felt good to feel him next to me. Really next to me. I've woken up many times like this. And each time I can only thank god for letting me live at this time, thank you for bringing me where I am. Thank you for bringing him back to me.

I wonder if Mike is reading these things. I wonder if he dreams about me at night. I wonder. I wonder if he would have given me that flower if it had just been the two of us. Sometimes I want to talk to him, and sometimes I want to hang around with him. People that I talk to, tell me that I shouldn't let him touch me. They tell me that I should tell him that he shouldn't do things like that, because it makes him think that there is a chance. I don't want him to think that I'm leading him on by not stopping him. I don't want to lead him on if I am. Maybe I should go to mike and tell him that he shouldn't want me, the ways I think he wants me. But sometimes it feels so nice. Sometimes, like when he drove Dale out to see me, or when we went out to eat, or when he gave me the flower via Dale, it feels so nice. He touches me softly and gently. Softer than I though he could be, more gentle than I thought he was capable of knowing. He asked me if I wore perfume the other day, and sometimes I wonder if ever smells my hair and thinks that its pretty. These thoughts don't entertain my head all the time. Usually I'm busy with school or I'm busy with work, or i'm busy with Dale, but sometimes when I'm daydreaming, and listening to My Immortal and she says that she's "been alone all along" I can only imagine jumping off a building, flying through the sky with the sounds of a guitar and drum flying past me, falling to the ground, and having mike watch the entire thing. I wonder. Just for a few second I'm there, and it's like dancing all over again. 

I will let him watch me dance. Someday. But it will be hard to let him see me like that. I once read a story that said, "I only let my hair down for two things: to dance and to fuck. Unfortunately he had never seen me do either." That's how personal it is, that's how deep it will go. But maybe it's time someone saw me, honestly with no restraint and with no mask. Just me.

Sorry about the other entry. I was just angry. I've been recently thrown out of my house. My life seems to be going in five hundred different directions. It's easier now though. At least I think it is. I don't worry about putting up with my mom's yelling, I only have to focuse on school. That and the Vonnie,a girl from work, is taking an intrest in my well being. She really thinks that I'm an amazing person. Nothing sexual by that either. I'm happier. Last night Dale and I were talking on the phone and he kept telling me how much he missed me. It was about one in the morning that I decided to come over and give him a surprize. I have the key to his house and his family considers me family. I like falling asleep next to him. I like not having to be alone anymore. I can sleep next to him whenever I very well please. He wants me around, but honestly I've been getting curious. Vonnie keeps telling me that you don't have to stay with the first person for the rest of your life. For a long time I believed this too. I never thought that I would stay with my first love for the rest of my life. I always knew that we would fall apart, because people change. You aren't the person you were when you were fifteen just like the person you were when you were fifteen isn't the person you were when you were five. I can feel myself changing. I can feel things dying all around me but I'm not scared anymore. I can feel my mother dying, falling away from me and my life. It upsets me, but I know I'm stronger for it. I can feel my uncle dying in front of me, but I choose to be with him and my grandmother and it hurts, but I'm stronger for it. I know that some of my friendships are dying because we are becoming different people. It doesn't make us not friends, but we aren't as close as we used to be. I can feel things changing, and I can almost feel myself changing, quickly, so quickly it seems like things aren't changing at all. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to have sex with someone else, someone other than Dale. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to be with someone else. Would I be happier than I am now? Would they treat me the same way Dale does? Would they treat me better? Am I worth more? Recently my phrase has been. Never Settle for Less than Your Best and Never Settle for Anything Less than You Deserve. Am I going against my own words? Can Dale change? I hope so. I don't want to leave him. I don't want him to leave me. I don't want to be alone again. I most certainly don't want to hurt him again. Not like I did the last time, not like Brittany did. But how much do I take? I love him and no one comes close to touching me like he does. But I know when I'm being treated wrong. The question is do I put up with it? 
 

I'm nothing more than a common whore. A girl who gets passed from one place to another. I know I'm damaged. The Shadow told me so. "I don't deal in damaged goods." Maybe he was right. Maybe I am just damaged goods. Harmed package. No one wants me around. And it seems recently that no one understands me. It's hard being alone, having no one to turn around to and say, "hey help me." Who would have thought a common whore could have pride, or honor, or justice. Women like me cannot truly be loved. We know only the love of a fleeting instant, nothing long lasting. But I cannot speak for all the sluts of the world. I can only speak for myself. I love him, and I'll go on being loyal to him until the pain pushes him aside. When he is done loving me, when he is ready to move on, I'll smile and step aside. And I'll walk away with my head high. Girl like myself know no marriage, no tranquility, no stability. Whores yes, but I'm ready to believe that it is possible for women to be suductive, sensual, crass, and bold, while still being seen as beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, and understanding. I'm writing to my Shadow, to my Angel, and to anyone else who might be listening. If you think that a female can't bring the world to a screeching halt then you've never known true beauty. If you think that whore are nothing but white trash with loose morals then think again. I maybe a whore, I may ask men to hold me, to comfort me in my time of need or when I'm feeling sad, but all of you are looking at me from one perspective. I'm intelligent, and kind. Thoughtful and understanding. I posses many qualities that men find attractive, (and women for that matter too) but I don't go around screwing every guy that I see, nor do I screw every guy I flirt with. Men are my closest of confidants, my truest of friends, and some of the strongest family I know. Kiss my ass. 

No one understands. NO ONE! I'm so alone. NO ONE wants me anymore. He told me he wanted to see me. I didn't know if I would be able to come over. But I did. Here I am. He doesn't even know I'm here. He's asleep. He's probably hearing me type but he isn't hearing me cry. I tried to leave. But I have no where to go. I don't have anyone to want me anymore. I should go home, I'll probably get into trouble for being out this late. Because I wanted to see him, because I thought he wanted to see me, I'm going to get into trouble. I'm going to get yelled at. It just hurts to be ignored time after time. But he doesn't understand. He doesn't understand this because it isn't logical, it doesn't follow a nice set little pattern like math does or like men do. "Oh why Oh why" he questions "Do all women have to be illogical."
I
t's a character fault to him. Something that doesn't make since and because of that should be erased. I tried to kiss him and all he simply did was groan complainatively. He rolled and went back to sleep. It hurts to be ignored. After everything I've done, everything I've defied, all the rules I broke, and all the people I've hurt just to be with him. He hasn't given up anything. Does he even love me at all? Is that why he can't say those words to me? The one person I really truly love probably doesn't love me back. God this hurts so much. This is why I'm dying, why I'm hurting. I don't think Dale loves me. He just wants some body to tell him that they love him, to kiss him awake and make sure that he doesn't feel alone. Someone to tell him that they love him. Maybe I'm just feeling mad and depressed right now. I don't know. But honestly this is how I feel right now. Alone and unwanted. 

It's so cold here. It's almost empty. I feel forgotten, and unwanted. I'm lost again. I'm going to close my eyes and I'm going to shut the door. I'm going to lock it. The door is locked, the lights are out. My eyes are closed. I breathe in deeply and I can feel the scum in the back of my mouth rise and scratch the back of my throat. It's not quiet. My mother is talking loudly on the phone. Always loudly. She's never quiet. She needs to hear something to keep her from going insane. To make sure that she is still alive. I danced today, for the first time in a long time. I truly danced. I turned on the loudest music I own, the cruelest music I own, music that once was the fuel to the fire of all my fears and anger and hate and lust and love and sex. I closed my eyes and pulled down my hair and lost myself to the indescribable joy of feeling alive. I felt everything like i had never had feelings before. I gripped my hair and imagined that it was Dale. I imagined what it would be like for people to see me like this. Wild and abandoned. Fearless. Damn!!! Nothing kills me like people walking in on me when I'm composing. Or when I'm just writing. Lights on, cheap smelling male perfume, and a dumb bright red clad little boy of 19 goes clumsily around the room. And he leaves. Door is locked. Lights are shut off. Eyes are closed. Breathing. Going back. Going back. Back Back. I'm never strong in real life. I only have strength when i dance. All my pain and every scrape of my rage, melds together perfectly in my body. It's spiritual to the point where you no longer question whether or not god exists. It's speaking to you. You throw your head back and imagine. You slam yourself against the walls of your bedroom and imagine love and lust. You scrape your nails against your thighs and you don't want to believe that the moan is escaping from your own lips. I imagined that Mike was watching me, stunned, uncertain, and finally seeing me for what I am. I imagined Dale dancing with me. I remembered holding Dale. I remember when Matt was gentle, so gentle it made me cry. And suddenly without warning it wasn't gentle anymore. I slammed my back against the wall not in pleasure but in pain. Brutally remembering something I should have never forgotten. I fought off invisible hands. I didn't cry. I can't cry for that anymore. The festering pain doesn't go away though. Reopened to save someone, it just keeps bleeding and I don't know how to make it stop. My throat burned, my side throbbed, my body was broken, and drenched in sweat. But I didn't stop. Suddenly Matt's hands were gone. They touched me so tentively, softly. They were mind, traveling across my stomach, caressing my arm. They were my fingertips tracing endless patterns around my lips, my eyes, tracing my collar bone, pausing at a dip in my neck, causing me to gasp. I laid down on the floor and whispered for someone to save me. My body cried for someone, my mind screamed it. But no one came. No one heard. No one could save me. No one came for me. I was left behind, my burning body broken and begging. God help me, I didn't have the strength to move, I wished someone would just save me. No one saved me. 

I've never forgotten you
I've never forgotten anyone
I always remember.

I remember that last day on the beach
I remember.
I remember what you said to me
I remember the look in your eyes

But, in remembering you
I've forgotten myself

God I hate the fourth of july weekend. I don't like my famlily. They're all a bunch of morons. They all come over to my house, get drunk, and in one situation, while their kid is watching. I got into a fight with my older cousin who was trying to take his kid home and the mother of his child, who was also drunk, was egging him to leave her child alone. I get between the child and my cousin and tell my cousin that I will take his 11 year old son and his friend home. He gets mad at me because I touched him to keep him away from his son. He gets mad at me, and god help me, I think the guy was going to punch me. I have never been more angry at two people in my entire life time. They have a perfectly healthy son. He is 11 years old, he doesn't have any deformities, he doesn't have any handicapps, he can be annoying, but for the most part he is a perfectly able bodied young boy. And here he is being raised by a grown BOY and a grown GIRL. GIVE ME A GOD DAMN BREAK. I have seen 15 16 year olds with babies and they are better parents to their kids than these two losers are.

A couple of days ago I picked up a hitch hiker. The guy was a 32 year old african american who had come to Indiana as a door to door sales man. He had just gotten out of prison for drug charges after being in there for two years. I gave him my email address. I hope I hear from Alfred soon.

I also had to flash my boobs to my manager. I lost a bet playing a game of high card and had to flash him my boobs. Oh well it's not a big deal to me anymore. I'm not one of those people that when they are dared to do something and they don't do it because it requires a little big of indeciency. That's bullshit. Besides it's not like the man hasn't seen boobs elseware

I'm also getting a tattoo. It's going to be two hundred dollars and is going to take two hours. I'm getting an incription that says "I've lived my life with regret. But I'll never regret having fallen in love." It's going to have a henna type/ indian type band around it and is going to be located on my left shoulder blade. Too cool huh. and my think my mom is going to pay for half.

My brother, his girlfriend, and her brother broke into my house. They stole seven hundred dollars from my step father, coins from my mother, jewelry from my mother, and clothing from me. She came around the next day at my father's house wearin gmy clothes! What a totally bitch! She says she is pregnant with my brother's baby but from what I've heard she has been sleeping with like three other people! She's ugly and I'm not just talking about physical ugly here. She is ugly through and through.

I danced at the horizon of the world, on the edge of a knife
And I gave my wings to you
Before I could fly
Now I can only dance

Your lost fallen angel
Your immortal
Yours

My wings removed
I can no longer feel the air between my feathers
But I can remember, and I can still feel
I can still dance

My wings removed
So that I could be with you
But there are somethings your love cannot give back
And thats why I dance

I dance until my body breaks
To a beat, a heartbeat that can heal my heart
My soul yearns for the sky
But my legs are on the ground

I love you
I gave up my wings for you
But there are somethings your love cannot replace
And that is why I dance

The sky is blue. The world is falling around your head. You bleed just to know that you exist, just to know for a fleeting instant, that the world is real, that you are real. You want to be cared for. I'm tired of taking care of myself. I'm tired of the fear on peoples' faces when they look into my eyes. I'm scared, and angry. I want to hurt someone, even if that someone is myself. I'm only angry at my mother and my step father for what they have done to my life. They think they are so great. They don't even begin to realize the pain that they can and have inflicted upon another being. So what am I to do now. Huh? Is there anyone out there listening? Tell me. Tell me why I am the way I am. I wish I could be angry at someone, to unleash my rage upon someone who has done me wrong. But I do so at the risk of causing that person death. I would wish death upon no one. Not even the most hated and loved person of my life now. My mother. I sit here in the lap of my mother and step father's luxury. This computer, this t.v., this home, that pool. All theirs. I'm only a guest here. I wish that my mother loved me. My head tells me she does, but my heart, my bones, my very soul tells me differently. I wish I belonged to someone. I wish someone would take care of me. But unfortunatly this is where fate has landed me. I will ride this until the wheels fall off. This is my life. No one can own my body, my soul, my mind, or my heart. They can't tell me what to say. They can't tell me what to do. They can't make me think the way they want me too. They can kill me, but at least I will die Janice. Not my mother's mistake, not my step father's misfortune.

But God it hurts. I'm not alone anymore but my future is so uncertain. My world is so unstable. I wish I had someone, something, someplace to hold on to. My body aches, my soul yearns for something, someplace, someone.
Maybe I'm just another fool. Another hopeless romantic fool who believes in the shining knight in white armor. I lay back in my bed and I close my eyes and I can see the knight that I let get away. I wish he would hold me again. Just one more time. I wish I could wake up to him, I wish I could give my virginity to him.

Because you see, he was my first love. My first unforgettable. He was the first person I danced with. The first person who's lips touched mine, the first person I ever tasted. He touched me for the first time. He held me as no one else ever had. He held me as if I were made of glass as if at any moment he was afraid I would break.

God help me, be merciful upon me, please I beg of you. I didn't think I loved him. I believe I loved him now. We spent only a week together and because I was a fool, because I was a spite full, ugly, nasty, frightened bitch driven by my god damned hormones I left him crying. God help me for what I was, for what I have done to him. Later, that pain came back to me ten fold. I lusted after another. I gave up my knight for him. But when it came down to it I couldn't give myself to this other one. It didn't seem right. But the pain that was unleashed upon me when I said "no" was irreversible. Oh yes, the ten fold rule came back to me. But I have paid my dues. I now live with the metal scars. Lord in Heaven save me from wanting my knight again. I do believe he is happy in the arms of another. I want him back, I want to make him happy, to give him everything I denied him before. But I also want him happy. I do not wish to ruin his life anymore than I already have. I beg of you. Please. Please.

Working on getting some new stuff up. Maybe some stuff I've been doodling with. Here some of my new stuff.
To my Beloved,
Hi. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to the person who I want to spend the rest of my life with. I’m sure “hi” is a great ice breaker. Well since we have never met (or if we had we don’t realize that we are meant to be together yet) I think it would be appropriate to tell you a little bit about myself. I’m not going to tell you my name because I don’t have yours and it wouldn’t be fair if you knew my name but I didn’t know yours. It would be giving you a head start. So what can I tell you about myself?
I think a lot. I think all the time. I’m constantly questing for answers. Sometimes I wonder if I’m searching for answers even while I’m sleeping because I have the strangest dreams. I can’t remember my dreams though. All I know is that sometimes they leave me scared or confused. It’s the only time I cry. I only cry when I’m alone and no one can see my tears. I hope that you will be able to handle waking up to hearing me crying. I hope that when I’m with you I won’t cry in my sleep.
I have brown hair. It’s black when it’s wet, its light brown in the spring and summer, and sometimes I think it’s too dark for anyone to love. I have dark brown eyes with long lashes. I have white skin in the winter, but it gets pretty tan in the summer. I refuse to go to a fake in bake. If I’m going to get a tan it’s going to be because I was outside. I’m short too. Let me just tell you that short is an understatement. I’m five foot one inch. I’m a little overweight too. Not too bad from what I’ve been told, but bad enough for me to feel a little insecure about it. That and I think my chest and butt are too big. I don’t know.
I don’t know who you are and if I do I’m obviously am not with you right now. I hope you’re happy. I wish you could tell me about yourself. I really can’t wait to meet you. I’m just another stupid hopeless romantic who clings to the idea that there has to be someone out there who will love me. There has to be someone out there who already loves me. That’s you. If it’s any consolation I love you too. I don’t make sense. You probably don’t make sense. But together we make sense. Together we’ll make sense. Just don’t up and die on me. I’ve been waiting all my life (which up until now has been very short) for you. I’ll wait all my life for you. I just hope we aren’t too blind to miss one another.
Yours Truly,
Waiting for your kiss

P.S. my favorite flowers are white roses