a good old walk and talk. deep

There they go again, each colour representing a different aspect of my life that has been run of the rails. The strings that i held my balloons with has been cut, and as i stand here on the ground i watch them loose control in the wind. The blue - my depression. All this pent up hurt balled up into a fist of tears. The green - my happiness. All the things that make me smile and set me free with contentment. The yellow - my inhibitions. Dancing in the air, leaping forwards and swaying in beat with the gushes of wind. The orange - my soul. My fiery passion for exceeding and breaking expectations, the engine behind my wild, wily ways. And last but not least, the red - my love. I see this balloon on its own on the horizon, slowly falling to the ground, the life in my red balloon is seeping out from the hole that cupids' arrow made.

One, two, three, four, my feet are rooted to the floor.
Five, six, seven, eight, i'm rooted with my evil hate.

Sitting on the grass, crossing my arms and legs i cry and say goodbye to my balloons. I wish i gave them the space and freedom they needed, because maybe when they did go i wouldn't have felt so helpless and useless and so feeble. Accepting my mistakes and embracing the errors of my ways, the wind stops blowing, the trees fall silent and my feet dangle limp and life-less beneath me as i am raised up. Beneath me floats a cloud to sit on and one by one my balloons come back to me. I hold their strings in my hands but feel a slight disappointment. I feel compelled to let them go. Up and away i watch them fly, even little red musters the courage to swim.

In the spur of the moment i take from my pocket my pouch of marbles. From the cloud i open the pouch and drop the colourful cat eyes to the ground and close my eyes. A feeling of weightless-ness drifts over me and i close my eyes mistaking it for tiredness. one minute, two minute's, three minute's pass before i open my eyes again. The suns arms are hugging me and i awake from my dream.

number 180.

Elated in my nightmares, my dreams dwell in despair
because i know that when i close, my eyes he's always there.
You may think you understand, when you have no idea,
I have lost his eyes his voice and face my deepest fear.
My memory stared fading and my screams are muted strings
for in my nightmares i no longer fear those stupid things.
For now i long to remember all things i used to hate,
Little things note just for him, but now its just too late.
I scratched away a part of me that now i want back bad,
The part that i associated with him and all things sad.
Woe is me the suicide blonde with eyes so blue with tears
what i once dreamed would give me peace are now my dreaded fears.
One small word i cling to now because i gives me peace,
One small word i'll cling to now until the day i cease.
'Really?!' can you blame me for this hole i dug my self?
I made my bed, i'll lie in it, where worms can help themself.
That small word can send a thousand jolts up through my spine
one memory i treasure now and till the end of time.
Nestled in that hole that used to live my broken heart,
i huddle with the parts that stayed for fear they will depart.
A hole for a heart.
A lemon for a smile.
A dime for everytime that they run a mile.
A pea for a brain.
A nut for my armour.
A cut for each time i fall for a charmer.

Egg aka the suicide blonde

Why does that suicide blonde always look so...suicidal? Those eyes kept down, they look like they are trying to be strong, trying to papermache over her secrets even though its obvious. They are spilling out of her. Her crazy messy hair pilled around her face, trying to hide her shame. Why is she so sad? Why does suicide blonde walk around on her own, strut as if she feels tall inside? The girl with the pale skin with veins that score her journy through life. The roads she is to travel. Why does this girl hide behind her quirky smiles and kinky one liners? Who is she? Does anyone know? Because i'd like to tell her, she's a fake. And to anyone else, beware of the suicide blonde with the eyes that spell pain in spirals, she is trouble.

The ipod is her oxygen, she breathes in the music and blocks out the sound of life around her. Her eyes are glued to the floor, craves invisibility when she is not being talked to. Leaks her pain onto the internet for the world to read annonymously with identity. False as her life. Why i ask is she so strange. Does she live in a box. I think so. A box made from carboard with painted flowers on the side. Painted with the blood from when she picks the scabs of her heart.

She is like an Egg. Hard as a nut on the outside, all the same, blends in or so she hopes. However one small crack and she plops out. The diferent parts of her. Her heart and her soul. If you are really forceful her heart will break too and will bleed the yoke of her Egg. One thin layer i compare to her armour. Small and hard. These days however she has boiled herself so much that when you drop her, her inside will not break. Or spill. Or bleed. It is just dead and lifeless inside.

Suicide blonde is killing herself inside out with her depressive nature. And with no one noticing the shell she has created around her, she will continue doing so.It is all she know how now. Its a one way track. Shes lost and cant go back.

Forget her

Forget her. That girl with the suicide blonde hair and the eyes that spelt pain. A blue that continued for eternity spinning in spirals mapping out her journey home.

Forget her. Almost as soon as it was on it was off, like someone with a romote flicking through the channels to find the best to suit the mood. That girl didn't suit your mood. She will always wonder in the wrong direction, so theres no point in chasing after a whisp of air.

Forget her. She minds, i can tell you this, she doesnt want to be forgoten but this is her destiny. To lead away from the trouble she has caused.

Forget her.

of the day

hello. welcome to my blog of the day. 17.06.09. 16.45.

thought of the day. ''why cant i grant my conciousness peace.''

colour of the day. grey. a grey cloudy day for the pathetic falousy of my mood.

number of the day. 3. number of times i have wanted to gouge my eyes and memory out.

song of the day. ''full moon'' the blach ghosts.

i hate this enternal system, where i cant escape myself of these stupid thoughts. stupid girl. i can sit in a room, like a tin of sardines, brimming with people, and yet i will sit there, looking straight ahead, thoughts spinning this way and that. I like not being noticed, and i hate it when people ask if your ok. ofcorse im not ok! would a normal person truly trusting in themselves with nothing to worry about sit ice cold in a room of friends? no. that is your answer. but i know you will never leave me if i give you the real answer will you? so i lie. its only a white lie. it wont ever affect YOUR life. its like acid on my skin, burning away all the fences i ever put up, those eyes that look apon me. and when you ask whats wrong. how can i tell you when there is no end to that question. just an eternal system of wrong doings in my life. so next time you see me ask me only this.... .

Blameing myslef seems to be the only answer to the question of my life.

By casper. the original.

back paddling.

Dont want to forget

dont want to remember either

going out of my mind

and i just want to find her

that girl with blonde hair

back before all the drama

would never have cared

or let anyone harm her

i want to be strong

and want to forget

but i can live just as long

i never remember

it hurts to think

it hurts to feel

i want to take this stupid heart and rip it from my chest

because all i seem to do is hurt

why cant i live with out a heart huh ?

cant i live with a pump instead one that doesnt have feelings

i cried today.

i fucking cried over a fucking boy. a BOY !?

i know !

and oh no this isnt recent. after all this time im still hung.

hand me a noose and let me get it over with.

please

im definatly sure its more humaine than letting me live like this.

GOD ! oh damn even that makes me think and then makes me hurt.

run home

spinning, twisting, fighting for freedom

looking, listening, longing for hope

i keep waiting to find somewhere i can go

to be me

running home, with the blood in my veins

wind in my hair, ridding the guilt

somethings telling me this is not my place to be

to be me

this body is mine, the way the skin on my bones

reaching and pulling my soul back and forth

from here to there, out then in

never know where to begin. being me.

black room

i'm walking down this hallway
and the walls are dark and black
i'm fighting for an ending
know there's no turning back

The floors seems closer
than it first seemed
i'm on my knees
can i be redeemed?

I'm sweating 'cos its draining
my knees are turning black
the scratches mark my journey
prove i can't go back.

My eyes they sting
the rain drys down
my cheeks are damp
and cloud my frown.

I'm crawling to the corner
where the walls are slightly white
my knees i draw them closer
but with my feelings i still fight.

To think of peace
and act all calm
folds the worries
into my palm

i'm opening my eyelids
to the dark and dingy wall
i shake of the remains
of my faithless hurtfull fall.

''dear readers, i spun this poem a long time ago, sorry for the darkness. Hang on you should be used to it by now, right?'' - casper xoxo

im living a life

Hello you, a well known fiend,
i welcome your presence
with open arms
embrace your presence
with no alarm
i understand your ways and thoughts
i see each clock
turn and tick
yet take it lieing down
each punch each kick.

i known the future.

as clear as the sun beams.
as predictable as the rising moon and falling stars.
ill walk into that black hole of doom
frozen and shattered to death.

yet each time i await my destiny with open arms
a warm breeze stops the
inevitable, my clogs un-popped.
i live a death. where i cant stand no more.

speech has escaped me.
sounds have clogged my ears.
and the sights i see no longer give pleasure.

i have lived a life for so long in silence
that no i feel is the time to speak up.
LOUDER than before.
someone must hear me ?
are they too wrapped up in their own lives that they dont understand
they dont understand how im feeling at the moment and im
screaming in despair
wont someone ask me in all honesty
if the feelings i am showing is the story of my heart??

should they not uinderstand this by now??

no one.. NOT NO ONE. knows the extent of the pain i am forced to with hold.
like on a phone where the caller wont pick up
i am living a life on hold. God just wont let me go.
let my body seize and my soul float to salvation.

em pleh ,esaelp.
ksa i lla s'ti.
ecaep

imprinted

imprinted
and there it will stay
that picture i see
wont go away
behind my eyes
right to my toes
this feeling spreading as it grows
i scratch and tear
my limps apart
to leave this hell hole
i share with my soul
its left me
my soul no more have i own
when i feel this how can be
how can i see through normal eyes
through eye that dont tint
to the shade of blue
shade of drowning in my own blood
that pumps my eyes when i close my eyes
how can i think of sleep at a time when i
know that your look will haunt me for sure
what can i do to escape
from this body where
imprinted on my eyelids
is a face i know too well
a face i cant stand to leave nor live
all i can give and i can give no more
my body is sore
i just want to fight once more against this memory
fight for ignorance
you. done this to me.

quake

Four months not moved an inch
at every mention i still do flinch
four months i wonder why.

A time i'm mean't to smile
but i'm crying all the while.
four months i wait to die.

And when they question of my mind
wont let them take what they can find.
Four months i sit and sigh.

I quake and wait for the floor to open
let this misery eat me up
escape give up its all the same
Four months im outside in the rain.

S.O.S

Stillness. Standstill. Stationary.
The s.o.s of my being
The contents of my heart and soul

A Shell. A Shelter. A Shore.
Where my thoughts cascade down a waterfall of tears
God help me wash away this sadness
Help me see this insanity of this
Pointless Pain.

Ice cold breath of Death .

A stab of panic through my chest
I forget the reasons i need to breath
And i focus on one i forget all the rest
I'm being chased by death.

Say that im paranoid when i say
It's waiting for me behind the door
I'm taking my life day by day
But begining to wonder what the hell its for.

The icy breath flows down my nape
The shivers rumpture along my spine
cant whats trapping my mouth like tape
What to scream to keep whats mine.

Take me, or leave me just not inbetween
I'm living a life without any mean
In limbo im waiting for my sentence
Please hurry leave me without my senses.

Let justice prevail .

can you not see
what the trouble we are in
we are living our lives
without shedding our skin
we sit here all day
with a screen by our eyes
dont ever look deep enough
to see our despise
we claim we have knowledge
that we know all the hate
but i say to all of you
its too fucking late
while on your arses
you sit all day
and waste your useless lives away
when there is work for us to do
to keep this world thats good enough for you
as good as it were when we recieved
for the youngers that
you have concieved
and think of all the hunger dieing
and all the aids and children crying
that screen you place in front of your face
has ridden emotion it has replaced
you say you dont judge
but those who cant help it
you shun them
and leave them
dont help them one bit
so next time you sit with your screen
think of the lives
you could be helping
stand up and say
or write for a cause
theres justice to win
so lets start with today.

returned

can't explain
with loss of breath
knocked from my lungs
pain
it hurts
help

and over and over again
i bring my knees to my chest
when will this beating end
so the pain will stop


it seems once again
i set myself up for this
when will i learn
when will i see
that ill just have to wait till when
not longer do i yearn
for his love returned

and then i can let go

when it comes to you :

its as if im bound to you

with thread thats brittle but just as strong

and no matter what has happened

no matter what youve said

what you havent done

its as if when it comes to you

all wrongs come undone

i want to believe all you need is time

to believe you still want my tender lips upon yours

still want me to take your hand in mine

for all time

when it comes to you

all i stand for

belive in

doesnt matter

when it comes to you

i still surrender.

Like a ribbon in the wind
inspiration flows from my finger tips.
and i type.

shivers radiate through my body
as the wind shoves me side to side
i gaze at the stars take in the beauty
and watch as the moon and clouds coinside
and when that big round orange moon
awakens me from a chilled out mood
the rays awaken my destructive side
and cant help give in what i cant abide
the sounds pulsing my ears now silent
and the colours i yearn for black
transformed in to my tirant
long for the moon to turn back