Sleep

I’m trying to sleep, because I want to.

It’s all I want right now

And all these thoughts

These worries

This pain

Can just stop

They need to go away

I push them aside

erase erase erase

I want them gone.

relax. Go to sleep. Don’t think about it.

I need to sleep.

Please sleep.

There’s too much to do tomorrow.

Too much.

Breathe

Shh

Sleep

Erase erase erase

My mind is as empty as I can get it

It’s a dark endless room

A spacious void

It’s all gone

But

There is something left

My surprise in finding it there is enough to hold my breath

But at the same time

I’m not surprised at all

It’s him

Under the one beam of light

The last thing in here besides me

Everywhere I try to look

There he is

One hand in his pocket

Eyes downcast

Covered by hair

Not looking at me

But his smile tells me that he knows I’m there

Please

Please go away

I don’t want you

I don’t need you

I need to sleep

he doesn’t acknowledge me

doesn’t move

doesn’t say a word

just stands

and I can’t push him out

I can’t even touch him

No matter what I do

He’s still there

But why

Then

Erase erase erase

And I am swallowed

By some unbeckoned void

And I sleep

 

GREETING EARTHLINGS

So I suppose I should update you guys a little (whoever you guys are, I don't think there are really any of you).

In regards to the last post. It is what it is. Leave it be.

Other than that, I've been really busy. Having a part-time job and being a full time student doesn't leave a lot of room for writing, but I do think when I can. And by think I mean clarify things more. Lately I've been all over The Devil Has Blue Eyes since I put together an amazing playlist, which I really should post.... anyways. It has also made me think of Sight. That said there will be changes, but they will be AWESOME.

So just so you know, I'm not being completely neglective. Hopefully, I'll have more time soon!

Stop and Smell the Roses...Oh Wait...Are Those Bees in My Nose?

I'm just going to warn you now of a lack of class that's about to take place. If this could possible offend you, I suggest you don't read. If you find this amusing, we must fist bump immediately. 

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Can we take a minute and talk about kindness? 

I would just...really like that. 

Oh, and in that kindness there must reside a maturity, which you clearly seem to lack. 

You, in all your shallow and judgmental glory, are not kind. Are not a friend. 

Friends, don't use each other. Friends, don't make each other uncomfortable for some strange sense of pride or vengeance.

So while you go and stuff yourself full of charitable bullshit, I hope you realize the loneliness you'll one day face. 

You will push them all away. They will know what it was like being in your seething shadow. And though I would love to do everything in my power to prevent this, it seems to be on a way street to that dump. And I will be there to take them out again. You'll be left with your cruelty and no one to subject to it but yourself.

How's that for food for thought?

Talk About Bittersweet

I've accepted that I'm not a bird person and I don't want to be sad, but I can't help it. Even if it's better. Even if things probably would have just gotten worse... because there was love, saying good bye hurts.

My room is empty again.

I gotten my first bird to keep me company because I was lonely. Because the person that was supposed to be my best friend had left a gaping hole and I needed something to fill it. I feel like that void is going to come back, but I have a suspicion that it's not a real fear because I have a new best friend now and other best friends that I'm actually investing in. And they love me. And take care of me.

I also really think that this is a big step to get my life where I want it to be.

This was a responsibility that I needed to let go of, because I was neglecting a responsibility to myself due to it. I have to get to the point where I have the means to take care of others. That's just not right now.

Look What the Clouds Dragged In

I'm doing better. :) I think that's evident with the few posts that have been made, but we're not dwelling on that. 

there was no thief relient k mp3 | lyrics

free music downloads | music videos | pictures

"There Was No Thief"

For a time I thought there was a thief among us
I thought I'd track him down but prior to my pursuit
The smoke had cleared and to my disbelief
There was no thief cause it was me
That lost you

I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back (Oh oh oh oh)
And I understand why you wouldn't want to (Oh oh oh oh)
I guess it's up to me to find a way to get to you

And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me

And I can't see you
Getting used to
Living in the midst of your perfection
And I'm so lost
How can you trust
Somewhere the sun is always shining?

Oh
Oh

And there's just one last thing that I have to say
As we reflect on the mess of all of this I've made
It was cowardice that made me push you away
I was so afraid cause you were so much better than me

I guess it's safe to say you're never coming back 

If you're considering me the speaker. You are mistaken. 

Strangely, this song is not making me hopeful. It's giving me something to understand whether it's accurate or not. It's a point of view that I can grasp and learn to let go of. It's easier than considering malice. 

I don't believe it was malice.

So it comforts me and that's the only explanation I have. 

I've come to accept the reality of it all. It's still a little painful, but it's not taking over my life or my thoughts. I'm moving on and I hope that soon it'll be to an even greater degree.

Poison

<---Previous Post

Here you go! :D

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Whir-whir.

It took me a minute as I slowly came into conscious to realize what I was hearing was the heater. My eyes opened hesitantly, the black around them fading gradually like a camera lens. I shifted my legs against my comforter, wanting instantly to go back asleep but too awake now to—I flung my blanket off and sat up then immediately fell onto the pillow again. My head was throbbing, no, pulsating. I almost cried out as the dizziness settled, but once it did I noticed the weight of my own body, the ache, along with the complete disgust in the idea of food. I grabbed one of the extra pillows and put it over my eyes. I felt like I'd had about ten too many beers which followed an induced stumble into the street that ended with me plastered to the front of a semi going eighty.

I was pretty sure I hadn't been drinking last night. I had gone for a drive and was kidnapped by Thom, but he was—not dead. I'd seen the photos. The cops wanted to know if I'd intentionally convinced him to kill himself. I hadn't, but I might as well have. Yet, I'd seen him last night.

How did that make sense?

I recalled his eyes: dark, red, and animalistic; his tendency to move while I blinked, and then his teeth. A chill trickled from my spine to each of my limbs and my hand darted to my neck. My fingers burned from my skin and I pulled away. A steady pain radiated from the spot on my throat where I'd been bitten by the other one.

The other what? What were they?

I was fighting my logic as hard as I could, but the harder my neck throbbed, the louder the word seemed in my head.

Vampires.

Blood ghouls. Night stalkers. Blood suckers.

I resisted the urge to touch my wound again. Had that—man drank my blood? Had he tried to kill me?

Then why was I in my bed?

The pain increased to such a degree that I hissed so I wouldn't groan. I couldn't ignore it anymore. I rolled out of bed, clumsily, shakily and stumbled my way to the bathroom, it wasn't far at all—less than ten steps from my bed, but I kept needing to stop and grab whatever was nearby to keep from collapsing. I knocked things over on my desk and nearly slid to the floor trying to grab the wall before I got a good grasp on the doorway of the bathroom. When I fumbled for the light I instantly regretted it. The light, normally dim in my memory, was so bright, my eyes were watering before I could turn it off again. I buried my face into the towel hanging under the light switch trying to calm my breathing and dry my face.

After a moment, I slowly pulled the towel away, letting my eyes adjust before I tried to look around. A little light drifted into the bathroom from the draped window, reflecting off of the wall and to the mirror then back again. It was enough for me to take in my reflection.

I definitely looked hung over. The bags under my eyes made their dark irises look even smaller than normal, my skin pasty, my body hunched over. My neck was the worse. There was no wound, not a trace, no small red dots to show any kind of puncture marks, but my veins were raised, completely inflamed covering most of my neck. I tugged at my shirt to see how far it spread. The ruby threads had begun a steady crawl over my collar bone, a few touching the top of my breast, like tracks small creatures leave behind in the mud. They were heading straight for my heart.

I crashed out of the bathroom as best as I could and began stumbling down the hall.

"Mom!" I called, slipping on the stairs from the socks still on my feet.

I saw her head rise from its tilt over a book as she sat on the couch.

"Oh, you're up." She closed her book with a careful surety.

I grasped the rail at the bottom of the steps to hold me up. "Mom." I breathed again.

She was getting up slowly from the couch, not really looking at me, but looking stern.

"The police brought you home last night, passed out." I knew that voice. It was her "what would the neighbors think" voice.

"I know Mom, I—"

"Do you think that's appropriate?" Her eyebrows raised and so did her voice a few octaves, then she looked at me. "Hmm?" Her glare was enough to make me want to scream, she was looking right at me. Could she not see my neck?

I squeezed my mouth shut. There was no way she was going to lecture me for something completely bogus while I was dying.

She locked gazes with me, but neither of us budged, that's the pesky thing about genes.

"Fine." She exasperated quietly. "We will talk when you're not hung over. I'll get you something to eat."

"Mom, wait –"she ignored me and continued her trek to the kitchen. Clearly, she wasn't going to listen to me. Fine, I'd drive myself to the hospital.

I was glad to find my purse and keys right where they were supposed to be along with my moccasins, but my car wasn't. It wasn't in the garage and when I hobbled outside I didn't find it in the driveway or on the street either.

"Kae?"

I turned to see my neighbor, James standing in his own driveway. We'd gone to high school together and we were never really friends, but we were friendly. He'd always been especially kind to me.

"James. I need your help." I began to make my way toward him when I stumbled on the lawn. When I thought my hands would hit the grass, I stopped falling.

"Whoa." James said softly, holding me up carefully. "You okay?"

"No." I strained, then clenched my teeth, suddenly hit with a wave of pain in my head, light hurt again. I felt myself lowered to the grass and didn't care to object. Hopefully, he was smart enough to call 9-1-1. I didn't really know.

"Stay right here." He murmured hurriedly.

I crushed my palms against my eyes and groaned and stayed where I was. I thought the pain would lessen if I just sat here, but it steadily increased. "James?" I moaned too soft for myself to hear, it was hardly a whimper.

I heard the crunch of shoes on grass as James said, "Smell this."

I inhaled, strangely obedient.

Garlic?

My stomach instantly clenched and I gasped, flying forward onto my knees. I felt James shielding me, one of his hands wrapping around my hair, the other on the small of my back. My ears started ringing and then I began to vomit.

I don't know how long I knelt there chucking everything I had and even what I didn't, but I could have sworn I heard James as he rubbed my back say, "There you go. Let all of that venom out."

I'd finally started to stop, trying to catch my breath against James legs when I heard the sirens. I glimpsed my mother standing with her arms crossed in the driveway before an ambulance and then a cop car came to a calm stop in front of us. 

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Next-->

Thom

 <---Previous Love Me Dead Post

Here's something to satisfy you. :)

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I thought she would cry for me.

I mean, I'd hoped she would, just a little.

The table was cool. At least Thom knew it was supposed to be; he was able to recall the feeling like ice against his human skin. Now it felt no different from his cheek. The metallic scent pervaded his nose like someone had sprayed too much perfume, but it had a touch of purity to it, like water. He raised his head from the steel slab and quickly observed the dim, small room. It looked much like an interview room: a single overhead light, a table in the center, two chairs; one on either side. Thom occupied one; the other was intended for whoever was going to interrogate him. Not that Thom had ever been arrested for any reason before, but he'd watched crime shows from time to time.

There was a movement and Thom's eyes locked onto the one way glass in front of him. He could tell how thick it was, at least a foot in depth, which probably made it indestructible considering the shallow gashes here and there all over its surface. Something had tried to do it serious damage, and failed.

Whoever was on the other side of the glass walked to the door next to it, turning the knob.

"Where's Kaelyn?" Thom hissed just as the door opened a crack.

The man said nothing; he was scrawny, but not weak. Thom could see that much with a quick scan up his length, but his eyes held a knowledge, a wisdom. Thom couldn't begin to fathom its origin.

The man gripped the second chair leaning forward slightly.

"Calm down. I know that at your new age your moods are eccentric and intense, but you can control them."

He kept his gaze locked with Thom until Thom realized that his hands were digging into the table, his fingertips stinging. He released it clumsily, brushing his hands on his pants. His fingertips were singed, there must have been silver under the surface.

"We'll work on that." The man mumbled as he slowly sat in the chair.

Every movement he'd done up to this point hadn't seemed abnormal to Thom, but this seemed strangely slow.

A Styrofoam cup appeared in front of Thom, he missed how it got there, but it smelled warm familiar, almost like—but it wasn't. "What is that?" Thom sneered.

"A heated blood synthetic." The man answered. "We often refer to it as hot Kool-Aid. Little joke." The man didn't laugh, didn't even smile. Thom didn't flinch.

It didn't smell necessarily appealing, but not bad either. Thom didn't want it, but he picked up the cup and took a sip. Like he thought, he could drink more. It tasted like it wanted to be blood, but definitely wasn't like artificial sugar tried so hard to taste sweet. He knew he needed it, but only gave into that need so he didn't kill anyone later—in the name of food anyway.

"My name is Derek, Thomas." The man, now Derek said, but didn't offer his hand. Smart man. "Kaelyn is fine and you'll see that for yourself soon enough. I'll bet by that time you won't want to though."

Thom downed the rest of the drink and then slammed the cup on the table sending a definite thump through the room, crushing the cup into a small circle of what now looked like paper.

Derek's eyes moved to the cup, then to Thom's face. "You have a lot of fear and a lot of rage, but there's also a determination." His hand moved forward and he grasped the remains of the cup between his index and middle finger then dropped it nonchalantly into the nearby trashcan. "We're going to harness that determination. We're going to get you in control of your body, of your nature, of your desires and anything else that stops you from living like you want to."

(Thom knew he wasn't just offering him a free platter, there had to be something he wanted.)

Derek leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper, "I know this isn't an existence you chose. I can't rid you of it, unless death is what you want, but I can help you take advantage of it and possibly get revenge if you desire, as long as you help us."

Ah the catch. "And how would I do that?"

A smile appeared on Derek's face. "Oh, I think you'll like this part."

Not Dead Yet

Hey all. 

Just so you know...I haven't died, but I can't say I'm alright. The past ten months have taken a larger toll out of me than I could have expected and my mental health is greatly suffering because of it. I am trying to take care of it, but it is proving to be more difficult to acquire the correct help than one would think. Still, the beginning of a solution is in sight. I'm not going to go into too many details because none of you need to be bogged down with my worries, but just to comfort you, it's more frustrating than life-threatening. I have people doing their best to help me with everyday since many things have become difficult, but I don't have too much trouble entertaining myself.

So, to entertain you as well, I'm sending you to places that make me laugh. :)

http://www.youtube.com/user/juliansmith87

http://www.youtube.com/user/CardGamesFTW

http://www.youtube.com/user/Ninjabridge

http://www.youtube.com/user/TeamFourStar

http://www.youtube.com/user/Tobuscus

Hope you enjoy! There are several other things sitting in my Favorites on Youtube, but we'll start here.

Sorry my creative flows are taking a hit. I'll keep trying!

<3

Like a Villain

So...

He's terrified of me.

And I can't help but find that absolutely hilarious and empowering.

The thing with this type of fear is that it's clear evidence of his guilt. He did something wrong and he knows it. As do I. My pain is proof in itself of what he'd done, but he hasn't seen it. Never will. And my pain will fade. It's going to take a long time and many slow steps forward, but it will cease. He can't get rid of his guilt. There is absolutely nothing he can do. It wasn't accidental or unintentional. He made a choice knowing the consequences of his actions. Maybe someday he'll gain the courage to attempt to apologize. I'd accept it, because that's the kind of person I am, but nothing will change. I doubt this will happen anyway. He's always been a self-serving coward and that's something not easily changed in a person. It would take something really drastic. That said, he's clearly taking himself down a path of self-destruction and if there is a day that he wakes up, it's highly likely he'll find himself somewhere he can't escape from.

And I pity him.

Regardless. Seeing his guilt so nakedly on his face kind of made my week. The more I think about it the more I laugh. He just handed over any power he had over me and if I ever face him again, even though I'm sure I will be terrified it will be relatively easy for me to stand tall. And I may not be able to resist sarcasm.

So I laugh at his fear. Maniacally. Much like Ursala when she finally gets her hands on the trident. ~~(o.o)~~(that's an octopus) ...>.>

ANYWAYS.

Okay. Fear.

I have my own fears. Some of the worst (though I swear any of these things has NEVER happened to me) are my fears of being bound, tied-up, or restrained in some way so that I can't move my limbs. I can almost guarantee that if this happened for longer than thirty seconds I'd have a panic attack. That and I really dislike big ships on the ocean that sink. THEY ALL DO. Still, one thing I cannot handle is ghosts. I don't care if you think they're real or not. Don't talk to me about it. I don't like them. I believe that they're a high possibility especially for those that have had tragic deaths, especially suicides of dark people. These violent delights have violent ends...

So yesterday a dear friend was showing me an old game that is all about ghosts and it scared the shit out of me and I had to stop playing. All I did was turn on the TV. The damn ghost didn't have to come and shove me, OKAY! We had to give me NyQuil to knock me out paired with the need to soften some real pain so that I could sleep. There you go karma, happy? I got my healthy dose of fear--the end.

Other than my villainous moments, I'm being a good girl. No, unfortunately I haven't been writing, but I've been trying to find a job and have been working hard at that as well as putting my best foot forward to exercise like I haven't done in three years. (Go me!)

So life is moving even the pieces of my heart and sanity that I've had to shove away are being rustled slowly but surely. It's just a little at a time. :)

Best of luck to you all and safety as summer becomes more ominous! The temperatures are rising! ;)

‘Til Death Do Us Part

<--Previous Post

Hey all. This is my next little snippet for Love Me Dead. It's very short and I wrote it sort of a while ago. I will hopefully have more soon!

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Waking up in pitch black is like getting turned on your head. It feels wrong, disorienting, and you can hardly breathe. I was lying on my side, my one arm falling asleep sending sharp tingles like electricity to my neck. I could taste the wood in my breath and feel the unyielding planks against my back. I could feel the knots forming already along my shoulders and spine. That was the only information I needed.

I inhaled again as I tried to fight the fear and smelled the death and dirt. That did it. Tears swelled in my eyes and I tried to stifle my sob.

I was in my coffin, my grave, and I would die here.

Someone would find my car abandoned on the side of the road, if at all, with the fingerprints of a dead man on the handle. Someone would call my parents. They would blame themselves for not talking to me. My mom would never forgive herself for letting me leave and Lance wouldn't understand; just like he hadn't when Thom died. They would probably try to be cute and bury me next to him, but this there won't be a body this time. They wouldn't even know that the other grave is just as empty.

I couldn't stop myself from wanting to open my eyes as wide as I could to keep the darkness from seeping in. That's what death was: darkness—cold lifelessness.

I started moving my arm to wipe my face when it brushed against something. Something that was definitely not wood. I held my breath and tentatively patted whatever was next to me with my fingertips. Jeans. That was definitely jeans and there was definitely flesh behind them. Cold, dead flesh.

Thom.

He came for me like I knew he would and this was his revenge. Together forever. That's what he'd always said.

I was going to suffocate, starve and go insane. Whichever came first would be the drop. I had enough sense to know that I would go through agonizing hours, but I hoped the finale didn't hurt and that there would be nothing after.

This thought crossed my mind just as Thom's arm, chilled and slithering, ran along my waist, up my back and around the back of my neck like a teasing noose.

The scream the exploded from me wasn't anything I ever would have expected from myself. I was sure it was nothing I could reproduce on command. As it hit the walls of the coffin, going nowhere else and dying into silence, I couldn't help but scream louder, if that was even possible.

As my scream began to fade, light burst into my vision. Before I knew what was happening I was on my feet, in the grasp of hands like frozen steel, meeting a gaze more violet than blue that was quickly gone again.

"FOOL!"

When the eyes disappeared so did that hands that had been holding me. I staggered for a moment before I found my footing just in time to see the coffin I had just been in flip over with a crash.

Thom sprang out of what seemed to be nowhere in front of the coffin which now lay on its side, the lid splayed open against the wall.

A small growl rolled its way out of Thom as his eyes fell on me. Any moment and he would spring.

"I told you I wouldn't give you any orders unless I didn't have any other choice and this is specifically what I ordered you not to do."

A stone-gray arm was thrust toward me and I followed its length to a head of hair that was a somewhere between white, gray, and silver. The type you'd see on people like Richard Greer. There was always something strangely attractive about it no matter how old they were.

"I had to disobey." Thom hissed, his eyes trained on the silver-haired man ready for the slightest movement.

The man didn't move from his position between us even though it was clear that Thom was much bigger than him, but it was like that for everyone when it came to Thom.

A small, chilling chuckle came from the stranger. "That's the thing, Thom." Then he turned his head and his vibrant eyes fell on me again as his mouth fell into a deep from. "Now you've forced my hand."

Glittering fangs appeared from his mouth and I had enough time to gasp before they were in my throat.

People always describe pain like being pierced by hot daggers. This wasn't hot at all, but ice cold, sending goose bumps down the length of my body. It was the last thing I registered before I passed out.

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