I am inside of myself,
Bearing all that aches, all that is beautiful.
And time, like a father, scolds and does not renew
But casts imaginings in false direction,
burning hope, burning the pale.
So my hands, so worn at youth,
pluck the petal-flesh of flowers’ shells
They mourn, they whither, they bear new children
And I prolong to murder even them.
Their thorns are not my own, and yet they linger
So sore and bruised against my chest,
Heaving,
Striving to break loose the vines
that are the devils in their worlds.
Bleak and sensitive, we possess familiar
lyrics
For, when stripped bare of our own armor,
What is left?
But a simple, helpless seed.

This is warm.
You are my shelter,
This is warm.

Lost boy,
Run into the forest
Grasp trees like they are your brothers.

This is warm.

Mouth open, like a crevice
in seas... split and demented
Like our hearts.

Can't keep a secret...
if it was never a secret.
I Just want to be warm
This is warm.

I'll save you
Lost boy

make you warm again.

I really think I should color it black. o.o

entry insinuated.

Sin.

Mine.

Okay, all you retards on elftown that say you are vampires...WTF? WHY? You ARENT a VAMPIRE... BEING ONLINE DOES NOT MAKE YOU A VAMPIRE...

I fucking hate idiots.

Breathing silence from a sleeping tongue,
a white vision among black faces
Failing, at provision of thought... glaring
wildly
into the eyes of
Self.
Angry are the irises, which have protruded themselves
forward,
to stretch to the unknown.

Attempting to analyze myself.
Though I have not forgotten how truly difficult it can be, I still seem to be all the more shocked.

The full clarity of my voice is disappearing...if not, gone altogether.

Rough artist's hands... my hands. Sketched with remains of paint and calloused sores.
I am so tired, tired of rejection...tired of being repremanded.
tired of being alone.

I am in survival mode. How damn pathetic is that?

I truly hate myself.

-rain

alone.

-rain

I feel a need to be strong for you but...

I can't. Not right now.

Realization: I dont believe in God. This is not just because God seems like a complete bullshit idea to me,

it's because I DONT WANT TO. GOT IT? I DONT WANT TO....

-rain

Far away...she ran. And never came back home.

Today is strange. So was yesterday.
I do not know what I am feeling. It hurts.
I sound like a broken record, and I apologize for it.
A friend hates me. I feel so uneasy... tense, and depressed over it.

I want to write so bad... but I just dont know what to say...or how to say it...

The Revelation

Confession.
Identity as fire in the hearth,
Bold.
Lying beneath me in the hands of those who tremble,
a pair of souls...
Dwindling within hellish realms,
seeking revenge...
believing in nothing.
A thundering birth enters,
the souls break from their suffocating shells, and
become as one.
Splotches of white form on faces,
and rippling from invalid lips...a cold black.
A pot, large in conformity,
gathers them in great gulps,
a combusts what was always
meant to be.
And so begins the revelation.


-Rain Poet

so angry.

so hated.

so alone.

-rain

The Revelation

Confession.
Identity as fire in the hearth,
Bold.
Lying beneath me in the hands of those who tremble,
a pair of souls...
Dwindling within hellish realms,
seaking revenge...
believing in nothing.
A thundering birth enters,
the souls break from their suffocating shells, and
become as one.
Splotches of white form on faces,
and rippling from invalid lips...a cold black.
A pot, large in conformity,
gathers them in great gulps,
a combusts what was always
meant to be.
And so begins the revelation.

-Rain Poet

what exists... exists... and what doesn't exist hasn't come into view of our minds... there is no one truth, only the millions of truths created by our own expression of securities and insecuries.

phew.

glad that's over!

She awoke with a gasp so drastic it might have bursted her lungs. Beads of sweat formed her entire body, causing her to glisten even in the dark. A whimper escaped from within ... a dream.

All just a dream.

You were beautiful that night
When the heart in the willow failed to beat
It was your favorite hiding place
The moon intruded the sun
and you cried out, "I'm here!
I'm alive!
I exist!"
Not even the stars would listen
not even time itself.
For you grew too swift,
a woman at ten...
An old crone at fifteen.    

In my hands
I hold
this war.
Now beat it,

victorious, vicorious, victorious

It defeats the anger,

I am soft.

~H2O~


Under and Thrashing


Flooding my form, crushing ribs


Poseidon, you hypocrite... aquatic devil


Last beat from within escapes my lips


If I don't breathe,


I'll never reach sixteen...


-Rain Poet 11:34 a.m.