Ashley
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Jun 17, 2005
- Messages
- 1,000
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✍️ WORDS ✍️
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Ashley
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Jun 17, 2005
- Messages
- 1,000
The passion ate the desire,
For dinner years ago,
Swimming in circles, and
I'm failing to float
You sold a part of you,
that cannot be refunded,
It the midnight hours,
I would shiver and mumble,
Now you've broken through
the barriers of protection,
With misguised metaphors and
poisonous devotion, I slur
when I talk, you know,
It's the handfulls of pills,
That I intentionally
over portion,
So as to feel warm,
Beneath a blanket of numbness,
And avoid such
a stagnant reality.
For dinner years ago,
Swimming in circles, and
I'm failing to float
You sold a part of you,
that cannot be refunded,
It the midnight hours,
I would shiver and mumble,
Now you've broken through
the barriers of protection,
With misguised metaphors and
poisonous devotion, I slur
when I talk, you know,
It's the handfulls of pills,
That I intentionally
over portion,
So as to feel warm,
Beneath a blanket of numbness,
And avoid such
a stagnant reality.
pk.
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2011
- Messages
- 1,833
cool.
Ashley
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Jun 17, 2005
- Messages
- 1,000
An untold story
swinging from a disused
meat hook,
Terrified eyes that
see too much
He took his chances
and scarred the bride
A weeping widow who
softly moans
The bars to a well
known tune
The echo of a time
spent with smiles
painted on
Lips that tasted
pure
Our hearts once
beat together
swinging from a disused
meat hook,
Terrified eyes that
see too much
He took his chances
and scarred the bride
A weeping widow who
softly moans
The bars to a well
known tune
The echo of a time
spent with smiles
painted on
Lips that tasted
pure
Our hearts once
beat together
Thou
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 10, 2007
- Messages
- 10,860
Sunnydale's Outdated Axiom.
Crickets.
Sunnydale Rest Home. 7pm. Most of the geezers were sleeping, or walking aimlessly, or screaming in a language that even if you COULD speak the native tongue, it was likely to be gibberish anyhow.
Which will take us shortly to the sanctity of life.
That was quick.
Gladys had just been thrown into bed by a group of understaffed, underpayed, under-equpped, and overtly unempathic caregivers. She was tossed and turned from side to side like a pinball machine only without the pleasurable aspect of enjoying a pinball machine. Finally in bed, after being condescended to by two incompetant mutants who didn't give a fuck about anything other than their iphones, which they stared at constantly when they weren't talking about her and complaining about taking care of her. Even though they barely took care of her.
They barely took care of themselves. Tthey have televisions and cinnamon flavored dental floss and tablet computers and cars they'll never pay off until peak oil runs out and everyones looting in the street to do that for them. For now. Gladys smiled.
She knew they were doomed, and she didn't get angry. She could speak but most assumed her mute.
She spoke sometimes, but mostly not. When she did no one paid any attention.
She wished for euthanasia, but didn't have the strength to load a gun and shoot herself, should she be able to leave the sanitized dungeon her horrible family dumped her in ten years prior.
Ironic, the place prides itself on compassion and quality of life, she'd never seen it, and neither have I. Who am I? Who cares. Call me the little birdie in the window. This birdie was a chirpin' this evening, but a sullen silence fell before me suddenly as if hit by a silver bullet straight through the whistling cunts of a thousand swans.
Gladys rang for the nurse. She had something to say. Finally. She had something to fucking say.
She rang her bell.
A gallerous old nurse in some sort of trampy uniform that supposedly passed for scrubs with the eyes of 17 hour shifts, pernicious anemia, amphetamine psychosis and malnourished vicious dumb hate walked in 30 minutes later. She must have been busy on her iphone.
"What is it Gladys." The desensitized woman didn't even bother looking up from her phone while Gladys painfully raised her left hand - the only one she could move mind you - and beckoned her to come close. In her head she was fuming, but she didn't have energy or the physical capacity to express this.
"I have a question."
"What is it Gladys I'm going on my break at 12 you know that!" She screamed in distaste. It was 11:37. Her ugly yellow teeth told gladys what she was so concerned about in having that break.
"On the front of the door there is a sign that says 'time heals all wounds. I've been staring at it against my will for ten years."
"....And?" she crooned, patronizing the poor old thing.
Gladys closed her eyes a second. She then uscled up every ounce of strength she had left, struck out and grabbed the bitches clipboard attached to her neck twisting it tight slinging young wretch within in an inch of her withered, wise, gentle, once-loving mouth while the nurse tried to scream in pain, but couldn't. I think she have broken the bitches windpipe. Guess I'm the only birdie be singin' tonight, but the look in the eyes of Gladys Downing said otherwise.
The nurse was frozen in terror.
Gladys let her squirm a minute, revelling in the fear finally being turned around on the monger just before she went off to that campground beyond the sun and left this ridiculous planet. She had something to say and say it before it was gone.
In vociferous fury screaming into the womans soul, twisting the bloody rope around the wenches neck writhing in pain she blared like a cannon in heat:
"THEN WHY AM I STILL BLEEDING?!"
Crickets.
Sunnydale Rest Home. 7pm. Most of the geezers were sleeping, or walking aimlessly, or screaming in a language that even if you COULD speak the native tongue, it was likely to be gibberish anyhow.
Which will take us shortly to the sanctity of life.
That was quick.
Gladys had just been thrown into bed by a group of understaffed, underpayed, under-equpped, and overtly unempathic caregivers. She was tossed and turned from side to side like a pinball machine only without the pleasurable aspect of enjoying a pinball machine. Finally in bed, after being condescended to by two incompetant mutants who didn't give a fuck about anything other than their iphones, which they stared at constantly when they weren't talking about her and complaining about taking care of her. Even though they barely took care of her.
They barely took care of themselves. Tthey have televisions and cinnamon flavored dental floss and tablet computers and cars they'll never pay off until peak oil runs out and everyones looting in the street to do that for them. For now. Gladys smiled.
She knew they were doomed, and she didn't get angry. She could speak but most assumed her mute.
She spoke sometimes, but mostly not. When she did no one paid any attention.
She wished for euthanasia, but didn't have the strength to load a gun and shoot herself, should she be able to leave the sanitized dungeon her horrible family dumped her in ten years prior.
Ironic, the place prides itself on compassion and quality of life, she'd never seen it, and neither have I. Who am I? Who cares. Call me the little birdie in the window. This birdie was a chirpin' this evening, but a sullen silence fell before me suddenly as if hit by a silver bullet straight through the whistling cunts of a thousand swans.
Gladys rang for the nurse. She had something to say. Finally. She had something to fucking say.
She rang her bell.
A gallerous old nurse in some sort of trampy uniform that supposedly passed for scrubs with the eyes of 17 hour shifts, pernicious anemia, amphetamine psychosis and malnourished vicious dumb hate walked in 30 minutes later. She must have been busy on her iphone.
"What is it Gladys." The desensitized woman didn't even bother looking up from her phone while Gladys painfully raised her left hand - the only one she could move mind you - and beckoned her to come close. In her head she was fuming, but she didn't have energy or the physical capacity to express this.
"I have a question."
"What is it Gladys I'm going on my break at 12 you know that!" She screamed in distaste. It was 11:37. Her ugly yellow teeth told gladys what she was so concerned about in having that break.
"On the front of the door there is a sign that says 'time heals all wounds. I've been staring at it against my will for ten years."
"....And?" she crooned, patronizing the poor old thing.
Gladys closed her eyes a second. She then uscled up every ounce of strength she had left, struck out and grabbed the bitches clipboard attached to her neck twisting it tight slinging young wretch within in an inch of her withered, wise, gentle, once-loving mouth while the nurse tried to scream in pain, but couldn't. I think she have broken the bitches windpipe. Guess I'm the only birdie be singin' tonight, but the look in the eyes of Gladys Downing said otherwise.
The nurse was frozen in terror.
Gladys let her squirm a minute, revelling in the fear finally being turned around on the monger just before she went off to that campground beyond the sun and left this ridiculous planet. She had something to say and say it before it was gone.
In vociferous fury screaming into the womans soul, twisting the bloody rope around the wenches neck writhing in pain she blared like a cannon in heat:
"THEN WHY AM I STILL BLEEDING?!"
Last edited:
Thou
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 10, 2007
- Messages
- 10,860
My Day Off.
So my asshole mother ran out of gas today. I'm a pedophile but she's the WORST.
I gave her a thousand dollars this month, there's no food in the house, ever. She drinks 300 american dollars worth of beer a day and I sleep on the couch.
I had to walk 4 miles to cash a check she made out to "cash" instead of my name. Which helped because the tour up my license because the check she gave me to give the dmv bounced. I now have no id, and have to pay the dmv 57 dollars. On top of her massive 3000 dollars she's behind in rent.
I break my back everyday and take the bus.
She drives a bus and needs money to help medicate her sedentary lifestyle. She won't drive me to the bus station when she takes off of work, which is frequent.
I got a flat tire the other night and waited around for 3 hours in the cold because she didn't realize the spare was under the car - I assumed she had no spare and walked to a restaraunt to ask for directions in the cold after a 16 hour shift at the hospital.
When I got back my sister was there and they dicked around, waiting for triple A. Even though the shit was right under the car. I was too tired to look at the manual to find out, and there was too much shit in the car to undo the back compartment.
I was stoned as fuck and lamented by what my sisters useless boyfriend called "trolling" which used to be called dry humor. I'm getting old maybe. Either way my mother doesn't get dry humor, because she watches the food channel all day long and talks with vapid people whenever that's not happening.
I wrote 4 short stories and gave them to all my family. Quite short. First was given months ago. They haven't been taken out of the lovingly sealed envelopes. They must be busy. It's a rat race out there.
I got yelled at the whole way home for getting a flat tire, although I tune it out mostly. You can't fight a brick wall without breaking an upper pallet.
I need mine.
There's no point to this story. This is how it ends.
Don't you hate being dissapointed?
Next time you fuck - think about this story and what you're potentially doing by proxy of your hedonism.
You might just have a bright young boy like me! Wouldn't that be AWFUL!
The pedophile remark was in jest by the way. I'm in the clergy, it's a running gag with the young ones.
So my asshole mother ran out of gas today. I'm a pedophile but she's the WORST.
I gave her a thousand dollars this month, there's no food in the house, ever. She drinks 300 american dollars worth of beer a day and I sleep on the couch.
I had to walk 4 miles to cash a check she made out to "cash" instead of my name. Which helped because the tour up my license because the check she gave me to give the dmv bounced. I now have no id, and have to pay the dmv 57 dollars. On top of her massive 3000 dollars she's behind in rent.
I break my back everyday and take the bus.
She drives a bus and needs money to help medicate her sedentary lifestyle. She won't drive me to the bus station when she takes off of work, which is frequent.
I got a flat tire the other night and waited around for 3 hours in the cold because she didn't realize the spare was under the car - I assumed she had no spare and walked to a restaraunt to ask for directions in the cold after a 16 hour shift at the hospital.
When I got back my sister was there and they dicked around, waiting for triple A. Even though the shit was right under the car. I was too tired to look at the manual to find out, and there was too much shit in the car to undo the back compartment.
I was stoned as fuck and lamented by what my sisters useless boyfriend called "trolling" which used to be called dry humor. I'm getting old maybe. Either way my mother doesn't get dry humor, because she watches the food channel all day long and talks with vapid people whenever that's not happening.
I wrote 4 short stories and gave them to all my family. Quite short. First was given months ago. They haven't been taken out of the lovingly sealed envelopes. They must be busy. It's a rat race out there.
I got yelled at the whole way home for getting a flat tire, although I tune it out mostly. You can't fight a brick wall without breaking an upper pallet.
I need mine.
There's no point to this story. This is how it ends.
Don't you hate being dissapointed?
Next time you fuck - think about this story and what you're potentially doing by proxy of your hedonism.
You might just have a bright young boy like me! Wouldn't that be AWFUL!
The pedophile remark was in jest by the way. I'm in the clergy, it's a running gag with the young ones.
infectedmushroom
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Mar 14, 2007
- Messages
- 1,371
Justice and truth - preoccupations of the mad
ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2012
- Messages
- 2,836
got more heart in m'ribcage than they got blood cells
this bone carriage, their rage can't break it
egg-shell-bitter skeletons
crumblin inside
outside
love
got more lives than twelve thous'nd eternal cats
the feline predicament, don't predicate
disintegrated candles, ash
tumbling, you sigh
our distant empire
o' love
we fill time with passionate anticipation
voyeuristic clocks rolling rocks
like ice-cubes across hot skin
above clouds outside walls
our love
this bone carriage, these disintegrated candles
egg-shell-bitter skeletons, they don't break
our voyeuristic love, tumbling
your sigh, hot breath
hot skin, on my
...love
this bone carriage, their rage can't break it
egg-shell-bitter skeletons
crumblin inside
outside
love
got more lives than twelve thous'nd eternal cats
the feline predicament, don't predicate
disintegrated candles, ash
tumbling, you sigh
our distant empire
o' love
we fill time with passionate anticipation
voyeuristic clocks rolling rocks
like ice-cubes across hot skin
above clouds outside walls
our love
this bone carriage, these disintegrated candles
egg-shell-bitter skeletons, they don't break
our voyeuristic love, tumbling
your sigh, hot breath
hot skin, on my
...love
ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2012
- Messages
- 2,836
to a safe place,
under the sand
he is chasing us through campus
he is walking, we are runnnig
we split up
run in different directions
those who are left
regather in the library
he has existed forever, this lunatic
we know who he is now
gathering books together
desperate clues
trying to find his weakness
trying to beat him at his own game
trying to discover the loophole,
so we can keep living
but soon they're all dead
all of them, all of my friends
the lunatic in pursuit
running now, instead of walking
a volunteer security student
I take his motorized bicycle
can hardly go fast enough
ride into the desert
I know where I am
the old treehouse from my dreams
I remember the desert
but I keep running
past footprints, increasing in size
until they are so big they become giant holes in the ground
I see a half-bear half-fox
a baby, a chimeric beast
then I hear her
the mother
emerging
from her footprints
the lunatic,
in pursuit
climbing tree after tree
as I leap fom one branch to another
I fall
into the water
I know where I am
the old lake
I can escape
here
the bear dives
after me
as I swim
into the trap
shutting the barrier behind me
safe from my pursuer
drowning
in safety
struggling
to find the release valve
I notice a hand
on the crank
winding
releasing the water
my girlfriend's
hand
the bear
slashing open our submarine walls
I stop running
sacrifice myself
my girlfriend, watching
as I am thrown down, face first
watching,
as I mouth the word, ”love...”
watching,
as I try to smile
then,
I am gone.
my girlfriend
expertly shedding quiet tears
as she sedates
the beast.
I wake up on a hospital bed, underground
I have no wounds
a bunch of people around me
discussing their lunatics
I don't know where I am
I don't recognize this place
my friends
aren't here
my friends,
they didn't make it
when it is my turn,
to discuss
my turn,
to confess
I say
“ice”
“ice is beautiful,”
I say
they
laugh
and I wake up
safe in my house
my bed sheets
soaked with afterbirth
my lunatic
frozen in time,
waiting...
under the sand
he is chasing us through campus
he is walking, we are runnnig
we split up
run in different directions
those who are left
regather in the library
he has existed forever, this lunatic
we know who he is now
gathering books together
desperate clues
trying to find his weakness
trying to beat him at his own game
trying to discover the loophole,
so we can keep living
but soon they're all dead
all of them, all of my friends
the lunatic in pursuit
running now, instead of walking
a volunteer security student
I take his motorized bicycle
can hardly go fast enough
ride into the desert
I know where I am
the old treehouse from my dreams
I remember the desert
but I keep running
past footprints, increasing in size
until they are so big they become giant holes in the ground
I see a half-bear half-fox
a baby, a chimeric beast
then I hear her
the mother
emerging
from her footprints
the lunatic,
in pursuit
climbing tree after tree
as I leap fom one branch to another
I fall
into the water
I know where I am
the old lake
I can escape
here
the bear dives
after me
as I swim
into the trap
shutting the barrier behind me
safe from my pursuer
drowning
in safety
struggling
to find the release valve
I notice a hand
on the crank
winding
releasing the water
my girlfriend's
hand
the bear
slashing open our submarine walls
I stop running
sacrifice myself
my girlfriend, watching
as I am thrown down, face first
watching,
as I mouth the word, ”love...”
watching,
as I try to smile
then,
I am gone.
my girlfriend
expertly shedding quiet tears
as she sedates
the beast.
I wake up on a hospital bed, underground
I have no wounds
a bunch of people around me
discussing their lunatics
I don't know where I am
I don't recognize this place
my friends
aren't here
my friends,
they didn't make it
when it is my turn,
to discuss
my turn,
to confess
I say
“ice”
“ice is beautiful,”
I say
they
laugh
and I wake up
safe in my house
my bed sheets
soaked with afterbirth
my lunatic
frozen in time,
waiting...
Last edited:
ForEverAfter
Ex-Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2012
- Messages
- 2,836
The Distance We Share, for Amy
I feel the hull of every sinking ship slapping dull against your soundwave song
you make bracelets out of candle wax
your voice shaking in the wind
your breasts heaving
your skin
nearby
in the distance
I take every dry tear collect them in jars
as your smiles swallow salt and I drown in your sadness
your anxiety boiling-over somewhere else
fear nearby
breasts heaving
in the
distance
I kiss you through the cobwebs in my brain
you flaunt sexuality casual like selecting flower petals
your pussy tight around my knuckles
breasts heaving
love
nearby
in
the distance...
I bow down my spine twisting my bruised body
you flutter eyelids and twist hair
illuminating my emptiness
your soul filling me
your breasts
heaving
against my
finger
tips
I cower reclusive in heroin
you cry tears and I erase:
your tears
splashing
dull against the ground
your emotions;
numb
like spears in my side;
you
a ghost
against my fingertips
I play the pornographer
you pose a with silver shower head
your wet body transmitted by satelite
breasts heaving nipples dripping hard
this fantasy
against
my finger
tips
I feel the hull of every ship
slapping dull
against your
soundwaves
song
as you make bracelets
out of candle wax
your voice shaking
in the wind
your breasts heaving
your skin
nearby
in the distance...
I feel the hull of every sinking ship slapping dull against your soundwave song
you make bracelets out of candle wax
your voice shaking in the wind
your breasts heaving
your skin
nearby
in the distance
I take every dry tear collect them in jars
as your smiles swallow salt and I drown in your sadness
your anxiety boiling-over somewhere else
fear nearby
breasts heaving
in the
distance
I kiss you through the cobwebs in my brain
you flaunt sexuality casual like selecting flower petals
your pussy tight around my knuckles
breasts heaving
love
nearby
in
the distance...
I bow down my spine twisting my bruised body
you flutter eyelids and twist hair
illuminating my emptiness
your soul filling me
your breasts
heaving
against my
finger
tips
I cower reclusive in heroin
you cry tears and I erase:
your tears
splashing
dull against the ground
your emotions;
numb
like spears in my side;
you
a ghost
against my fingertips
I play the pornographer
you pose a with silver shower head
your wet body transmitted by satelite
breasts heaving nipples dripping hard
this fantasy
against
my finger
tips
I feel the hull of every ship
slapping dull
against your
soundwaves
song
as you make bracelets
out of candle wax
your voice shaking
in the wind
your breasts heaving
your skin
nearby
in the distance...
Last edited:
Ashley
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Jun 17, 2005
- Messages
- 1,000
I'm so sorry I let go of your hand,
You drowned in a swimming pool,
Full of ultimate and aqueous despair,
Searching, my lips try to find your own,
But they don't seem to be anywhere,
I've lost you, my precious little friend,
You're gone now, on your way to happiness,
The memories and magic,
That evolved from a passing glance,
You were my woman, I was your man,
Now that is shattered,
And there is blood on my hands.
You drowned in a swimming pool,
Full of ultimate and aqueous despair,
Searching, my lips try to find your own,
But they don't seem to be anywhere,
I've lost you, my precious little friend,
You're gone now, on your way to happiness,
The memories and magic,
That evolved from a passing glance,
You were my woman, I was your man,
Now that is shattered,
And there is blood on my hands.
pk.
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2011
- Messages
- 1,833
co-sign.