Pieces Of My Life

Saturday, 07 November 2009

  • Does anybody get it? Does anybody care?
    That poem meant something.

    I. Was. Raped.

    And I'm scared and I need some advice so until I can talk to my psych, somebody, please, just let me know you CARE!

Monday, 02 November 2009

Saturday, 31 October 2009

  • Currently
    Monster Mash & Other Songs of Horror
    By Various Artists
    The Monster Mash
    see related

    Halloween Poem!!

    October 31st

    'Tis the night of jack o'lanterns
    'Tis the night of eerie bats
    'Tis the night of ghoulish goblins,
    Fiendish mummies and jet-black cats.

    'Tis the night of screeching witches
    'Tis, tonight, All Hallow's Eve,
    'Tis the night of Frankenstein
    It's a night of make-believe.

    'Tis the night of trick-or-treaters
    'Tis the night of candy corn
    'Tis the night when zombies chant
    And the dead are all reborn

    'Tis the night of caramel apples
    'Tis the night of misty ghosts
    'Tis the night of Dracula's return
    And longer fangs he boasts.

    'Tis the night of ancient Druids,
    'Tis the night of Satan's spawn
    'Tis the night when dead things rise
    And play 'til break of dawn.

    'Tis the night of superstition
    'Tis, tonight, backwards thirteen
    'Tis the night of hags and witches
    With a ghastly hue of green

    'Tis the night without a moon,
    'Tis the night of darkest black
    'Tis the night of haunted houses
    Where ghoulish fiends attack

    'Tis the night of crawling spiders,
    'Tis the night when dead have power
    'Tis the night when demons rise
    For the freakish haunting hour...

    'Tis the night of powdered doughnuts,
    'Tis the night of severed hands -
    'Tis the night of vampires
    Returning to their homelands

    'Tis the night of apple cider
    'Tis the night of things unseen...
    'Tis the night of fear and fright,
    For it is


    HALLOWEEN!

Sunday, 25 October 2009

  • Do You Remember Now?

     

     

    Thirteen years ago, your eyes in mine,
    Neither of us imagined that you would be
    on the other side of my radio, singing
    the lyrics that I helped you write
    to millions of people, the message so personal
    without so much as ever feeling your breath
    on their shoulder, your warmth on their skin,
    your lips placed so sweetly on their cheek...

    They don't know your middle name ((it's all over my 4th grade notebooks))
    and they don't know your eyes aren't blue ((they make you wear contacts))
    and they don't know that you were my first love ((and only, if you believe that..))

    but most of all, they don't know that your words
    aren't for them, for anyone else, because they
    were meant to be a personal contract, between you
    and the sheets

    and me

    .

Saturday, 24 October 2009

  • Myself At Thirty-Eight

    She sits silent, with a steaming-hot cafe-au-lait in her hands,
    sipping away the five hours of sleep she lost last night
    while dreaming of a never-met lover's kiss...
    in a small cafe in Paris, she picks up her pen
    and writes down all of her unsaid words, some in
    Francais, some not...
    Francis Cabrel serenades her with the beginnings
    of autumn and the reminder that she has no other to share her
    echarpes pour deux

    She watches as an elderly gentilhomme guides his
    petite sweetheart through the front door,
    a bell chiming as if to reminisce their wedding day -
    that is how in love they still appear...
    and they walk with arms linked, taking
    all the time in the world to find a suitable and
    romantic seat, silent in voice but exuding
    romance, sensuality, and love with every dance-like
    step they take...and when they sit and stare into each others'
    eyes and she hears his soft, delicate, age-shaken voice
    whisper ever-so-lightly Je t'aime to his amoreux... ... ...

    In the middle of the most romantic city on earth,
    inside the small cafe she only dreamt of
    owning when she was seventeen and a big-hearted dreamer,
    listening to a song in the most beautiful language she can imagine,
    she realizes that she has,
    against her own will,
    dwelled on a dream and forgotten to live.

  • You Can't Deny Something Staring You In The Face

    with my feet beneath the blankets
    and my head against the wall
    the dreams that tear my heart to pieces
    watch while I freefall
    into all the distant memories
    of your words, placed with such care
    in the perforated spaces
    of my heart...  I don't know where
    to go, since you were never second-best,
    so while I sleep, my memories
    come pouring out my chest...

     

     

Tuesday, 13 October 2009

  • Taken In Disregard

    I sit on the outside of another
    somber autumn evening,
    the silent wind stripping life
    from branches in colorful
    storms. The cold seeps
    through windows, under
    doors, through the insulation
    and into my toes, my fingers,
    my bones, even. I am a
    human popsicle, reveling
    in the crisp, sharp feeling
    of the air around me, and though
    the quiet speaks volume of
    death, I feel completely
    and irrevocably

    Alive. =]

Sunday, 11 October 2009

  • I Made It Back

    Have you ever wanted to cry so bad it made your ribs ache, but no tears came? I put my life on hold for a long time. I let down my family and my friends over and over and over, but I told myself it was worth it - I was finally happy.

    It's a curious word, that "happy." You can believe that, for all intents and purposes, "happy" is what you are when, really, it is the farthest thing from how you feel. You can smile your heart out and laugh until your face is blue without ever facing the reality you're trying to escape.

    I gave up hours with my Grandma to talk on the phone...
                                         she died in December.

    I never thanked my cousin Jean Renee for the bowls she gave me as a gift for Christmas...
                                         she was murdered in January.

    I wrote an entire notebook full of dreams for someone I'd never met...
                                         I've never even given my mom a whole page.

    I'm plagued by things that I could have done, should have done, but rejected all because I convinced myself that I was happy. It was so much easier to tell myself that I was just trying to be there for people that really needed me, when the people that wanted me were standing outside my front door, waiting for me to jump back into their open arms. I don't know why I'm so stubborn. and I don't know why all my family forgave me for being stupid for so long.

    But I woke up. My eyes were opened to the error of my ways. I made a lot of mistakes, but I made it back, even if I've got a lot of scars to show for it.

Tuesday, 29 September 2009

  • Bitter ((Sweet)) Irony

    At an utter loss
    For all feelings except those that
    Cut the deepest.

    In more ways than one.

    Sit awake at night with all these
    Thoughts, anguished memories, haunting me.
    Wonderful bedfellows I have,
    Agree?

    Want to lose all thought,
    Destroy this invisible torment

    But all I can do is break down
    And cry.

    Surprise, surprise. Since I’m so not an emotional
    Basket case, anyway...

    But these tears aren’t the hot, angry ones
    That have spilled as of late.
    They are the ice-cold sharp tears of defeat,
    Loss
    Utter abandon
    And nobody to understand.

    What a cliché, I know.

    But even the plaid lines across this blanket
    ((or the ones placed the length of my arms))

    Can’t comfort me tonight.

Tuesday, 15 September 2009

EmbracingTheSky

  • Visit EmbracingTheSky's Xanga Site
    • Name: Chelsea
    • Gender: Female
    • Member Since: 4/14/2008

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About Me

  • "If there's a tomorrow when we're not together, there's something you must always remember. You're braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is even if we're apart; I'll always be with you." -Winnie the Pooh

Ramblings