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running through the messesyou trick your mind,
you forget all the impulses,
you silence the routines and fractures of memories isolating your every moment.

you take a   long   cold   drink.
you rest your head against the wall for some stability.
you let your mind drain out the sludge you keep there rotting.

you stop the motions,
you stop them just before they start,
you volley your thought processes into another direction.

you loosen your grip,
you let it take hold of you for just a second,
you allow yourself to give in to the screaming and all of the rushing voices.

you do this
you do this so you can
you do this so you can just go on.
golden cageThis day: today. Is any other day, all days.
Tomorrow, yesterday. Everything in one, nothing in it all.
You take a bit of black, and with every brushstroke you shade hurt
and pain and suffering; all the cliches that only we, us, you, me, ever feel
for the first time, every time. Exactly how each generation creates sex.
No one wants to believe in ultimate nothingness, not even the depressed little ones with their drunken fist shaking at night skys.
Even when convincing yourself to believe that there is only void, null, empty black holes and vacuums full of minus; some stagnance remains - human hope.
Which is just another term for huma
thenbefore i met you, there was god. yes in a stereotypical Christian way, with blonde pig tails and hooker hips. the way you loved it really.
see, thats what you read, what i wrote, what i thought you would laugh at when you read it, and how much of a little child i really was at thirteen.
im not so sure if you did laugh, you never told me. but you read it all. perhaps, you know, if you had soaked any of it up, i couldve asked you for dissection, plastic gloves twanging and delving deep deep into my psychosis.

but you only laughed when you saw i was laughing at your jokes.
driving past old dusty thoughts.
(last time i went there i drove p
say cheeseHow can you manufacture emotion?

You can't.

Such a bold statement. Look capital letter. Punctuation.

Must be true.

[i smile everyday for you, it kills me, every day, just a little bit more of me, falls to the floor, and i step on it]
lappedi want to be sp   i   lt
             osso
white bl           ms of cream ing
splatter
splatter

i want to be spilt all over
  all over
  all over [the floor]
[all over you]

                                        ...would you cry over me?
culta cloud of lemon haze sprays out from your gaze
[i know i shouldnt squeeze you so tight]

45 ways to shine
        ways to die
underlined and exclamation pointed,
pointedly grand.

[stop telling me what to think]

this is the penultimate song
second to last scene in the play

[i never listened when you told me]

then,
then,
how i loved her.
your body. is just that. yoursDarling, I'm thinking dangerous thoughts again.

She licked her lips as a prelude, but it wasn't an opening act I was going to allow myself to be cast as co-lead.

You walk. You watch out for all the girls, you look at their legs. See how far apart their thighs are from each other... See if you can guess if they're virgins or not. Like how they used to make you walk.
See me, I think it's painted on your face. Your eyes, perhaps. Not how far apart things are as you stride. I can never tell with the walking. (But why were they laughing at me?)

I keep catching myself in reflections; wonder if you can tell.

And why didn't you ever open up to m
vacillateim just here,
placidly skimming the tips of my toes in circular directions on your chest.

no.

absent mindedly stringing myself up as drying pearls that you
possibly. well it was never going to be a question of never
but a question of when.
[dont ever sing it to me]
dont you sing it to me
but you sang it to me.

fingers on lips, then sticky taped lips down, then electric tape,
then it was just another voice beating on inside of me.
(i wont ever let me say it)

sometimes maybe, perhaps,
i wish it were more...

basis for complaint is compliance
how much?
how long? and what else did you lose in the tumble?

my stones are nearly smoot
becoming y.I was brought up well.
My mother taught me to feel guilty about everything.

And of all the boys that ever flailed their cocks at me like I owed them that kind of therapy, you were the only one that made me feel like a fucking whore.

but i want to go back to there, to then, to that time. not now. not here. not this.
this is shit.

i am in read-only mode.

give me some hope for other people
i'll sleep when the room stops spinning, when the thoughts stop coming
got none left for me

i try to make as little noise as i can. in whatever i do.
i smile at little kids. they tend to smile back.

it's like infiltration, a pretty package, with a l
batteries unincludedyou are an hour
sixty minutes of sixty tickings

  in this hour is every word
  youve ever said

i have an old wrist watch my father gave me
i say old, because five years is a long time when it is a quart of your life.

i use it to count you.

staring at the straight lines and reflecting the tubed light into a dancing circle on the wall
a spotlight for an ant
i imagine a woven straw hat and cane

  and dancing,

     there was always dancing wasnt there?
     there was, but it was never us that were dancing. its just a configuration.

  you know, of talk.

something we forgot all about.
      perhaps.

  perhaps.

      perha
pur-pose-spectivelycordially i take the knife
gingerly i take the knife
expectantly i take the knife

of course i dont take the knife
of all the discerning voices, yours held more like the metronome you are
pulsing me to chime in rhythm with your back and forward sway and stop

i seem to think i have rsi, or a split personality with an afflicted wrist,
mayhap only just a spider bite i cant quite locate

of a
n
offer

taken, pity with an eye sore, taken slowly with a glass of milk
rumbled sugar in an empty place, with an 11:11
oh no shit.

hidden behind teeth is an itching to say away

i shall take you to the twilight place, where my bloodied dress and
i love the way i say ithow come perfection could be the smile of apology you made when you were always late

how come perfection could be
                                  could be
                                        would be
                                               cant be
                                                          was?
                                                         was.
                                                          wasnt.
                                                          was it?

   ricocheting back
          and forth
  velocity isnt lost each time
       the bounce has changed
   direction

two taughtYou were me in my dream. I watched you placate myself with nervous flickings of my fringe behind my ears. Smoke curled around my splutterings as you habitually inhaled, forgetting it wasn’t your body; those weren’t your lungs.
I tried to warn you before you looked into my satchel; you made me take out a handful of balled up tissues, bunches of forgotten receipts and a half empty notepad, with some useless words scrawled joylessly across the half full. No pen.
Curses started to back flip continuously out of my mouth, words you had always said, and I had never wanted to. I tried to tell you that I didn’t mean what I was saying&
Ahh...fingertip to fingertip
in essences of whispers
a sentience
surrounded
and ignored
swallowed in
deep within
this circumference
surrounded
deep within
swallowed in
surrounded
fingertip to fingertip
wrist to wrist
surrounded
bound and bidden
fingertip to fingertip
surrounded
and ignored

surrender your sighs
i shall release mine
like ghosts of ever
after this
surrounded
mists of release
fingertip to fingertip
surrounded and ignored

these forces
these unseen forces
are your feet
are my feet
and opposite polarities
gravities
centripetals
centre petals
he doesn't...

surrounded
finger tip to fingertip
swallowed
dontophiliaShe loves the way they feel on her fingers
as she rubs them back and forth.  
The pressure, the roughness,
it felt much like relief.

But oh, when he used his
how it made her shiver.
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More from ~saturnineguise

on the inside, as the outsideyou are on the side tip

the last skin of

can you feel the compacted atoms of solid under you (?)
an expression of disinterest it would seem
caresses your features like a suede gloved hand

And light
light has no trespass coupon
no card for visiting today;
you crept alongside it and offered it an open back window

your
inimical
amiable
displeasure
distaste aboard all fours

i swing toward the void of you
attracted by the negative

And we are electromagnets changing poles as we change clothes

today, tomorrow

And every other day last week
you count time on your fingertip traces
i count mine on keloid.
Don't pick upi love the taste of grass in my tea cup
when porcelain is favoured less over polymers

you crack the yolk of morning in the sky
fried egg sun burning bacon when you wake

the dreams are fast cascading from your sleep kissed eyes
rivulets of summer breeze dripping on your skin

youre adding to the figures
detracting from the masses

hurrying through rough edged semaphores
ignoring tiny buzzing stars in plastic (in pockets)

sleep is a disease for the mind
awake is a symptom.
Leisthis is controlled purity
this is controlled purity
this is controlled purity
this is controlled purity
        (con)roll  speeding faster harder faster
this is conn    ed p   it  
                               it
this is                       it
shit is                   this
               roll
           on over
      is a place
                                it calls upon a name
                  leading voices by the finger gas
             net weight is less than  
trembling  
           on nevers your systematic
       synthesis sure for ward of
           off
                          purity is control
worry, i'lli cannot be sated on your terms of meaning.

with your will and will not

pilgrims tied themselves to untouchable opalescense

with your word
oh, your word

wondering about cherry blossoms falling like snow, playing catch and kiss and spot the burning eyes through the leaves

I'm speeding through suburbia. Lights wink on and off [through the darkened trees] like the eyes of a drunken hooker disinterested with the taste of cock.
Speeding fast through bushes.

This lamb, this host.

what was anything symbolised to me as

I'm getting stuck on those nevers

and if i could see the terror straining at your lips
if i could feel your heart just a
Lip textures on lip feathersi begin to lecture, as i do;
instruct the moon on how to shine
,the breeze to be, to breathe
the innocence of a smile to curl

.in the right spotlight.
the perfect wind speed, velocity

gravity pulling up through our feet

errant sense of middles

this kiss.

and we--
we all fall down.

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March 2, 2007
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[x]

When no one is around you

:iconsaturnineguise:

Look, I'm going to start saying your name like a swear word, okay? I'm going to muster all my little kiddedness and scream it like I can offend someone, see.
I'm just going to say it at inopportune moments, and clasp both of my hands over my mouth when I say it in front of the wrong people.
I'm not going to say it like a magic word anymore, I'm not going to say it like it invokes enough happiness in a papercup that I can swallow down and easily discard of the carrier. Crush.
Well then. I'm just lying arent I?

I'm not going to say your name at all anymore; I leave it up to the screams.
:iconsaturnineguise:
You know I was thinking I'm quite young, I'm quite old. I'm always at different ages in my head, than what is outwardly expressed.

'say my name, say my name'

[oh wow, i could honestly laugh out fucking loud at that, fitting, perhaps.]
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:iconkittytsukasa:
~kittytsukasa Apr 22, 2007  Student
I always did wonder where swear words came from and why certain words were so.
Reply
:iconsaturnineguise:
~saturnineguise Apr 22, 2007
=) heh

a lot of swear words in the english language are because they were the words of the common folk, take shit and fuck for example, both offensive. whilst defecate and fornication are the same, but are acceptable.
Reply
:iconkittytsukasa:
~kittytsukasa Apr 23, 2007  Student
Hmmmm, I see. That makes a lot of sense.
Reply
:iconsaturnineguise:
~saturnineguise Apr 23, 2007
=)
Reply
:iconwildmonky:
=wildmonky Mar 6, 2007  Student Writer
get rid of "Well then. I'm just lying arent I?

I'm not going to say your name at all anymore; I leave it up to the screams." it doesn't work. :+fav: all the same.
Reply
:iconsaturnineguise:
~saturnineguise Mar 7, 2007
yeah it is a tad incongruous. thank you for the favourite ! =D
Reply
:iconunexplored-beauty:
~unexplored-beauty Mar 3, 2007
haha saying someone's name like a swear word, i like it, and have acutally done it. was pretty funny the first time cuz i di dn't mean to and my friends and i got a kick out of it. i recommend it, helps with the anger i think. -erin
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:iconsaturnineguise:
~saturnineguise Mar 4, 2007
heh, things once held precious can fall into such degradation that all the name could ever mean to you is offence.
Reply
:iconanalog-nexus:
!Analog-Nexus Mar 2, 2007
I liked it alot.
Reply
:iconsaturnineguise:
~saturnineguise Mar 4, 2007
Thank you very muchly much ! =)
Reply
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