(12/2/10 3:20 pm)

There comes a time to bend and break,
let yourself go to give and take,
but should you stand and hold your ground,
watch the world spin round,
then you might make it out alive,
telling the story,
how did you survive?

Maybe, Crazy...

Can we forget this town...
spin around and visit the clouds...
Lets run away to Wonderland,
ask Alice if we can make a plan..
Run, crazy, run
Run! Run until your lungs are dry!
Never have to say goodbye,
If we make it out alive...
Maybe, can you feel it?
Maybe, are you as done as I...
We don't have to listen,
to another word they say...
it'll be ok...

No. Idea.

Sometimes I want to sleep and never wake up.

The only thing I have left tying me to this place, is my room and my friends. What happens when they're gone?

What do you do when your whole life feels like it's been ripped from beneath your feet, because the people "in control" are more stubborn then cats?

I swear I can feel the hammer swing down on my head every single time.

I can feel it boil in my blood, and simmer in my veins.

I can feel it posses me from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair.

It seeps in and entangles itself within my very soul, whats left of it that is...

My heavy eyelids don't even begin to tell you how I really feel.

I want to die.
I want to forgive.
But most of all?
I simply just want to live.
And you won't even let me have that.

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Because I'm angry. (yay for being melodramatic.) (3/2/11)

Edit

Because I'm angry. (yay for being melodramatic.)

by Lanie Copperstone on Wednesday, March 2, 2011 at 8:49pm

Fade, Fade.

Fade away,

maybe I'll come out to play,

another day...

But for now I will sit and wait,

find trust in the only thing I can,

Because it's gone, it's broken.

And I'm lost again.

There's a hole where my heart should be,

This is how it should be.(not)

I found a vice,

a lie, that I begged myself to believe.

"It will all be ok"

Now it's gone.

Taken away, just as quickly.

Did you ever get to know me?

Never did I see,

I did not know,

why would you just put up a show?

Because I'm the one that has to clean up your mess.

I wish I could just sit and cry.

But somewhere along the way,

I lost the ability.

Fading, fading,

fading away.

I will never come out to play.

I can't even put this into words. I can't even write. Because I don't know what to say.

I want to just spill everything, but who would listen?

Who would understand?

All I've ever depended on has been ripped from beneath my feet.

Leaving me to fall,

spiral down,

into a whirlwind of emotion.

I'm cascading into a river of denial,

watching as all I ever knew,

is changed, taken away, detroyed.

And all I wanted?

Was that lie.

"It will all be ok."

All I want is to believe it.

I have yet to find someone I can believe.

Or even someone I can trust to believe.

Who in their right mind,

Would ever want to believe in such a person,

Like me?

I Have No Freaking Idea What To Name This. (3/1/11)

down down, at the bottom of the sea,

theres a black hole there,

waiting to swallow me...

Dare I look up,

only to be,

crushed by the weight

of the sun I can't see.

Theres a place for worry,

a Place for hell,

Theres a place to go,

when all you can do is watch time tell...

A light can flash,

A siren can wail,

People can scream,

But not this time.

It takes.

It needs.

So little, so few.

The cold sinks in,

frost taking over,

glaze over your eyes,

as your heart takes cover.

Where it should be,

is only a hole.

Down, down, at the bottom of the sea.

There are tales of worry and woe,

There are whirlpools of turmoil, and emotion,

The great pool of "Forgive and Forget"

But there is only one hole,

that could ever swallow me.

Exagerations Are Fun. So are demons. (2/28/11)

The clock on the wall, ticking away,

the room spins, turning life upside down,

there is a demon in the room,

screaming in my ear,

whispering the lies I refuse to hear,

Who lies like a demon?

The demons creator, of course.

He breathes liar,

He smells of nothing but denial,

only wishing to hear what appeases him.

His eyes scream at me,

telling me all I need to know.

There is a demon in this room.

His creator smirks in the corner,

watching as the world, whats left of it that is, crumbles away.

So few bricks left holding up that house.

He is angry,

realizing he now has to create a new demon.

A new mishap, to chip away at the foundation of the world.

But he is out of ideas,

he has used everything he can think of,

What could he create that would be trustworthy, and do damage?

There is so little left.

A milligram of heart.

A shred of soul.

An overstatement of the century.

One bottle.

So many pills.

Who dare dance with these thrills?

Time is watching, waiting.

Creator is thinking, brewing.

What could happen next?

Mistake the circles under my eyes for exhaustion,

mistake the tone of my voice for being a long day.

Stretched too thin, took too many pills, watched to much go to shit.

This demon is good.

He knows his way around the track, been here before.

Alot could go wrong with his next plan,

too much could change.

But what choice does he have?

He takes the bottle.

Swallows the pills.

He takes the clock off the wall,

throws it out the window with whatever morals a demon could have.

He spins with the room,

getting dizzy and lost.

He inhabits the creator.

Together they take over.

Slowly wielding with the others.

And suddenly,

I can not tell the difference any more.