the road of hell
There is a road that I call hell
Ive been down it and I know it well
this road still scares me I will not lie
when I walk down it it screams a haunted lullaby
No I did not chose to go down this road I was made
but my souls been down the road of hell and part of it has stayed
I have ran down the road of hell trying to find my way home
I have heard it scream haunted lullaby's and I have heard it moan
my preditor has drug me down a broken track
but I showed him I found my way back
My soul is torn, a burning flame
yes I got burned but I still won his little game
sammy132@hotmail.com
A few good friends,
Is all she asked for,
A few good friends,
Nothing more.
Her family was a bore,
And her mom loved to yell.
Always being called a "psycho whore,"
Being at home was compete hell.
None of the mattered though,
She smiled all the time.
She had other places to go
Where everything was fine.
She had a boyfriend who she adored,
He called and talked all night.
He gave her all his time he could afford,
They never even got in a fight.
Life was good as you can see,
It seemed like nothing was wrong.
Her life was so carefree,
And everything seemed to belong.
Then one day there was a change,
All in the wink of an eye.
The trouble had a larger range.
Now more than her mom made her cry.
For the first time ever
She didn't know what to do,
For the first time ever,
Her words didn't go through.
Her boyfriend didn't like what she had to say,
When all that was said was no.
He didnt listen that day,
Or he relly hated the word no.
So he held her down,
And stripped her bare,
He held her down
And raped her without a care.
She didn't say a word
For fear of what he would do.
She would cry but make sure no one heard,
As she tried to pull through.
Days and weeks went by,
And the nights were what hurt the most.
Months flew away and still all she did was cry.
Her shadow only seemed like a faint ghost.
One day she had a thought,
Death surely would take the pain.
She would never get caught,
And she would just be found dead in the rain..
She tried and tried,
But always stoppped too soon,
But when she cried
She would scream "I will be dead soon."
Her parents dragged her away
To a therepist who was way too old
She told the girl it would all be okay
And a purpose in life would soon unfold.
They put her on prozac really fast,
In hopes to make her want to live,
But prozac didnt take away the past,
she felt she had no more to give.
Therepists and prozac did nothing at all,
And she soon decided it was time to die
She just wanted to get drunk and fall
And no one ever agian to ask her why.
That never worked out right,
She always came through
So she continued to fight,
Till she came to a point where she was cutting too.
At first the cuts were not that deep,
And barely made her bleed.
But then the blood began to seep,
It had so much anger to feed.
She never told her parents about those scars,
They wouldnt understand her anyway
It was like they were on the other side of thick bars,
Though she wished she could tell them one day.
That day has still never come,
And perhaps it never will,
But they dont know the past shes come from,
And her world had just gone still.
Angel31957@aol.com
AOL IM: Angel31957
clock
introduced
music
stairs
room
stereo
door
shut
dark
bed
sit
blink
down
scream
force
pain
rip
hands
trapped
suffocate
numb
cry
hurt
struggle
silence
blood
man
gone
me
her
she
dead
black
cold
run
home
hot
water
bed
weep
cut
slice
sick
alone
Marissa
I wear my
Blur Ribbon Dress
you light
rape
time
candles
be
not to be
hold
of body
girl
I was a
boy-brake-babe my
father was calling
home
do come home
now
that
note is gone
I signed
all my names
at the
breakfast table
choosed
to be closed
to be
none shut up
My offering
turned baby girl smiling
virgin look-a-like
and a really Wild Child
(but:
nothing ever happens.
noone is calling.
I'm so bored.
C'mon, destiny
what's in your hands
for
me?)
so the
Devil was
HERE
and
now he's turning
me
into gold
in
his
hands...
catharina
Mother Earth assures her
Some mothers care, some mothers cry.
Child turns her tear-stained face skywards.
Sky rains down with soothing, cleansing rain
Upon her youthful skin,
Child looks 20 and feels 90
Thunder roars, manly
Child tries to trust the masculine
Mother cries, Father roars
Will the wounded child be avenged.
Miles away, she wonders,
Wonders does the vile monster wonder
If the sky roars angrilly at him.
She lets go of the thought,
Lets the rain wash over her.
Again, throws her head back,
Tasting the cool, fresh rain.
Divorced of a world full of pain
The spirtual has adopted her now.
The child will sleep beneath a sky of safe stars
Jasmine scents and self-love in the air
Kathleen
Merletti
ICQ#: 21413516
inside the hearts
of nice girls all over
the universe
they all R U N
the same little way
when the wind is right and their
hair'll stay pretty
and blow in the
right direction
and they still can
see
but they still say
i should be proud
jeanette
I try to peel it off, but it
sticks there like glue
Yeah I want to bash in your face
I want to punch my fist right
through your chest and rip back
my happy place
Your sickness is stuck to me following
me everywhere I go
Your disease is stuck to the bottom
of my shoe
Ive thought about walking in a gutter
and scraping you off were you belong
But if I scrape you off right now
then that might just be wrong
Im still not done scraping up your mind
YOU covered my soul with blackness
and you made me blind!!
This time its my turn to smash in your face
So Im gonna start jumping up and down
Maybe Ill walk in the gutter
Maybe Ill walk in my own spit
and laugh at you
or maybe Ill just scrape you
off the bottom of my shoe
tonya
i close my eyes
i want to fly away from here
i suppress the urge to keep them shut
running off the road is too real
i'm living someone else's life
i can't handle the thoughts
the way my mind always finds its way back
one night changed my life
and i don't know myself anymore
T
Suicide is a house strung with lights, seen from the street.
Sutures and string connect the night frames;
pictures of snowclouds drip like paint to the floor,
matte with its recently wintered white coat;
our bathtub's cold body of tile, soap and skin.
No one locks the door, or knocks to get in.
I changed the walls to see backward better.
This hallway turns now; instead
of a bedroom a beach at the end.
I ran from the tide with my friend,
found bullets beneath the pier in the sand.
They smiled, half-buried in her half-sunburned hand.
One year water tore wood apart
like rooftop secrets, heavy with rot.
Her shell necklace belted the sky like gunshot,
each calyx a breaking eave as she bled.
The mirror a pocked gable of bevelled glass.
Sometimes I see the world we come home to forget,
heavy, far, quick as a train in the night,
betting our pain like a spare room to let,
passenger cars with every safe curtain drawn.
Fingers, throats reach for words, tears, dim light;
shadows return each day with the dawn.
From the front doorframe, nothing has changed:
plastic kitchen windmills painted white and blue,
paper cranes in a mobile flocked with creases,
that wind from the east whispering inward the drape.
You suggest, close the cover on these unreal shapes.
But I sleep and sleepwalk in this house, become strange.
Lidded eyes open each year like a bruise;
the sky alight with dark edges still frames family beaches,
and we stand like storm windows afraid to break,
safe for now in our shelter but seeking escape.
seven
That broken bathtub still shrugs in the yard
behind a hedge we hate to trim
and three years worth of Christmas trees
have shed their lace-edged dagger needles
the way I used to shed my unscarred scales.
Itās always more than only skin.
Nothing grows, but nothing goes away.
Thatās how we traveled from day to day,
in our suicide motel that year.
Shaken-eyed relatives avoided our white stare,
lips pursed into Edelweiss with fear or grief,
and even though they made us promise,
no one ever tried to leave.
I stayed there just a little while,
bruised with voices fighting for my hands, my mouth, my blade.
Itās easier to tell you like a story ö
you might think it ends.
But three small blue flowers every day
are my remembered key
to the carved-out keyhole, the safe-
deposit box of hollow pains,
where our words hide, bracelets we wonāt wear,
chains riveting our souls like cufflinks to bones and wrists.
Sometimes I donāt even remember their names.
Leaving I left nothing, asked for no address.
We wouldnāt bother with postcards
from whatever lost resort we passed through next,
"Iām lying but Iām fine," our own old laughter
for which the words arenāt flexible enough,
or for which there just arenāt any words.
The path back to that place is clearest in the dark,
when you canāt distinguish breadcrumbs from ice
and thereās no brighter road to mark.
But I live by a river now, and do not look
for roads of scars like small white stones that glimmer in the dark,
or snow-faint footprints, or clues to trace:
the map inside my eyelids never fades.
Music fills my sun-filled street, water over stone,
and Iām afraid to go back now, afraid to find it gone ö
or changed, walls in rubble or repair,
ceiling of clouds or clear as night,
solid doors and glass that wears a single face.
I said it was a house,
when all I meant was once it held my shape.
seven
got a demon who talks to me at night
he says itās a boy
he says you better watch it girl
you better watch your step
you better pull that blade
you better light that match
got a self-destructive tendency
got a knife and a razor and a whole book of flame
got a river of piranhas to swim upstream in
and i'm accident-prone but I'm not to blame
sometimes i see his eyes in the dark
they're as blue as when i was 15 and they laugh
got a trip-and-fall tendency with guilt to get me back up
and an urge to stay down here where it's quiet and calm
and the world can rush while i just watch
but he tells me get up and go,
get up and light that match
falling down's just one part
you got the match in your hand
and a gasoline heart
oh we're a pair my demon and me
he laughs like he always did
and i got a cold got a bruise got a head
full of noise full of hurt got a heart full of boys
he's calling my name
got a book full of flame
light 'em up we're going down
he's down on me down in me
and the living-room spins like escher birds
you're going down he says you got a bad wing
this is my captain speaking, captain of my heart
he laughs like he did when I was 15
with those eyes thin as lips and just as cold
and when he looks through me I never get old
got a knife and a voice
and my own private hell
there's this trap-door in my closet
that leads back to him
and all I gotta do is
get a cold get a clue get a life
get myself together
get off get on get out get in get through it again
you better shut up better shut up better shut up
got those blue eyes in my veins
you know blood is blue
got a knife to make it red
got to get him out but he never goes
got this cold little voice in my heart
and he says you better go girl you better go
you better come girl shut up and come you better shut up or ...
got my face on the floor and birds in my heart
hands full of nothing eyes full of rugburn blood full of him
got an ugly face got a scar got a name
got a self-burning urge and a knife and a book of matches to light
say yes you gotta say yes you say yes now yes-girl
you better say yes say you loved it
better shut up or be shut out shut up be invisible again
got a yes in my throat and a scar in my head
got a voice saying scream got a voice saying no
saying wake the fuck up
you got a demon telling you who you are
got a bad wing bad memory bad face got a scar
got something in me knows where he lives
and looks for him everywhere anyway
got some of him in me, i know what he is
but wings fly me back to him anyway
i'm not that girl i'm not that voice
he never beat those wings around this head
i only saw his neck, his chest, his sweat
i'm not that name that empty space
he takes me over again and again
but that's not where i am
got a knife, got a choice, blue or red,
got a clue, got a life, got a voice
gotta learn to be blue
gotta break this bad heart and set him free
gotta start over turn him red turn him out
turn back into me
seven
Take your finger off the trigger
I'll do anything I promise I won't tell
I'm a little girl searching for peace.
Why can't you see that I'm just a baby
Who doesn't understand right from wrong
You told me that you loved me but how can that be
Oh Daddy put the gun away, I'm your little girl!
Linda
Hermann
ICQ#: 26053797
Instincts I once had
now in shambles lay
I wipe my tears across your face
My sorrows make you gay
You sick and twisted child
Should've listened to my words
You've ruined and corrupted me
with your sick little urge.
The tenderness inside me
hardens like a rock
My innocence has crumbled,
my faith in God is lost.
My philosophy disturbs me
'What's done cannot turn back'
You've mangled what's important
the love inside me is black.
JiLL
http://www.bloodroses.com
ICQ#: 7838739
I wish I hadn't been your
Aurora, your Briar Rose
Her little
Siren to Break
I wish I hadn't been your
own private Northern Lights
And there's so much
blue and so many theres
in other places and so much
more we can't see
through pink or polka dots
or pretty roses, briar roses
Don't you have a little boy
a wife, something to take care of
and believe in without worshipping
at my altar said there's no gods
here only
little lost Sirens to Break
because for so long I've been your
own private Northern Lights
they don't
have a prayer compared with
my eyes, you know
jeanette
Touched
bedsprings ring gloom
Phantom presence floats and writhes
Nameless
stranger in my room
Cry, and maybe I'll Survive.
Hot dank breath of
dusty tombs
Foul Fingers button down fly
Cold contorted face looms
Lie
real still and hope to Die.
Chill legs and iced Knife swoon
Flowered
nightie hiked to chest
Daddy asleep in the next room
I may live, at
least...I guess.
Becky