Rejection

This time i tried walking slowly, climbing the steps i took great care
but once again i stumbled and fell
one
two
three steps through the air
the air was thin and clear and bright
i saw ahead but it was a mirage
i've been sitting on the bottom rung for so long that i am parched of affection

rejection

maybe i need a hand to hold
to guide me up each meter high
stepping stone. Why oh why am i crippled? Is that why i am
left?

Soothing my sores, my lumps and bumps on the ground i wonder
is this where i am meant to be? Do i belong up there?
Amoung the women.

Girl. Just a Girl. GIRL.
flat chested, small minded, virginial science project under the bell jar.

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.

Make me happy.

Someone make me happy.

Make me happy once more.

Hold my hand to tell me

im the one your looking for.

Someone make me happy.

Tell me things that make me smile.

Make me feel im needed.

and hold me for a while.

Someone make me happy.

Take the tears that fall away.

Be there even when im angry

Please bide it with me stay.

Someone make me happy.

im sorry for my reds.

ill show what i can be.

dont listen to what ive said.

Someone make me happy

take the nightmares from my dreams.

Hug me when im sad and blue.

Tell me its not what it seems.

Someone make me happy.

When my anger takes a stand.

Tell me when im being wrong

to help me understand.

Someone make me happy.

So that i can make you too.

Give me a chance to be somebody.

show you what i can do.