- Listener
BURY ME IN ROSES
Age: 29
Location: United States
Joined On: Apr 21, 2007
send me a messege if u wish to be a part of this group...once it opens.lol.
sodus, i have found to be, is slipping away. theres nothing to do, and summer is coming. my goal is to get an arcade, a coffee shop, a resturaunt, and some type of movie veiwing place in line for sodus people so they dont have to waste money on gas to go places that should be open to anyone anywhere. i am open to other ideas. things like dance classes or martial arts etc. are also acceptable.
NOTE!!!!
in joining this group, u are saying and showing that u are willing to help sodus in many ways including :fund raisers for darien lake in the summer, fnud raisers for what ever else is needed, and getting others to help support.
also, you will be counted as another person who agrees with me that Sodus, New York needs some help. You will be added to the tally sheet and i would love an email or letter with your signature.
thank you, Sodus Supporters,
and have a great day.
the reincarnation of pain
answering the phone to the sounds of
death itself enduring
the light of
the darkness that
you stir
within. eyes burning
an explosion in
the
stomach of the
weak
and the gulible.
preasure builds
in the rib
cage
recreating
the clash of
his foot-
ur weakness
measures of weights
and
rulers
blocking out the
breaths
or ment to
anyway
but they fail to
succeed
only when they stop
you feel you
need to feel the
blows to the
head
once again
to be calm
hit me again
and again
please
again
sooth my soul
from its
tentions
that you bring me
with the
daggers
on the
table
you know what i
want
what i
need
so do it
and make it
bleed
again
spider-whore
SPIDER-WHORE
can i be the walking dead
creeping around inside your head?
the gothic legs of a spider whore
the crooked smile of a narrow corridor.
a single star for this lonely night's light
a ghost like imaginary, painful sight
a million clouds and bursting veins
truths and lies, a leech of constant pains.
i can feel the ink rip through my skin
telling me ill never win
spilling my blood to its content
the suicide letter has been sent.
prickling the very tips
of my fingers and swollen lips
intoxicating every delight
intensifying every fight.
stuck in a matted ball of tortue-pourn
glued to the grey of every day's mourn
my legs entwine to a single time
a flashing video of that repeated lie.
sink my teeth into your neck
i had a dream and in it we bled
together like we had always said
so can my skinny, sharp legs creep around inside your head?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
by mary fitzsimmons
"listen"
the halls i bled on
the doors i fell through.
floors i scremaed at
for tripping me,
i wont get them back
the rooms that echoed my beatings
the breaths i took
my pleaing
down on bended knee-bleeding
eyes red and beaten
heart stif and frozen
my hands r to the door
please take me back
the road to home
the highway to peace
the magical sways of the freeingly strong winds
take me back to home
awaken me already
from this nightmare that i cant face any longer-
im begging u,
im screaming out to you
for help
but you
just wont
listen to my
wasted breaths
and the breaths i once had-
but lost
all to you
can you
tell me
the way to live
the way to breathe
i fear i dont kno how
any
longer
and if i stutter
forgive my inocense
i have
no
clue
as to what i am doing
so if i slip and fall into
glass
then its not my fault
ur leading me
past
all the time
of grace
to replace
my soul with art
and
waste
plastic
paper pencil
blue
red
orange
pink skies
are all i see
shattered eyes
are whats in me
and the
days i spent
making u happy
are the days
i spend
now
trapping
myself in the corner
a needle
a razor
printing my images
into my hands
legs wrists
breast
vreatheing fast
if u
listen
ull
h-hear
my words
as distorted
as they
may
be
sit close
or stand far
my words are
clearer
than urs are
but you chose not
to
listen
to hear
so ill sit alone
for the rest of my years
and the times
u beg
and the
time
u plee
and
the days u
spend
to treasure
thee
will
too
be distorted
adn misplaced
throughtout
the
the
years
and the cold black
touch
of sour hate
will
rise
against
not
you
but
infact
me
threatening the smoothness
of the flesh
with
cold
icy
metal
pleasuring the
rush
with
ripping motions of
lethal
and
as if
ive never
done it b4
ull cry and weep
over what should have been
descreat
but
u didnt take the time
to listen
~~~
by mary fitzsimmons
final breaths of ripping flesh
wars of meth
walls of death
clinging tightly
to the set
of days u have left
burn slowly
the remaining memories
free the anger
unleash the bleeding
reveal ur scars
and bring into reality
the reality
of reality
-
the fake
of reality.
inject the toxins
and see how long
ull live (take the chance)
or dont
its ur choice
remove
the mask
or hold it tighter
grab ur cross
or snatch the lighter
rip the flesh
of the breaths remained
fill the veins
of the weak
with the strength
of ntohingness
show them the truth
of pain
and pain alone
inflict what u feel
or tranform it
its ur choice
when ur feeling
the killing
is taking
u
over
and nothing makes any sense
and word after word
spills lik
the blood
from ur wrist
then
then
-
everything u hate
is seizing ur
last
breath
and remebering ur first
reminding u
of the way
it felt
to scream
wen now u cant
cut out the throuats of the wounded
and show them the silence
within silence
of silence
and silence
-
deep breath
steep cliff
one step
two step
now we're waltzing the path
1
2
3
1
2
3
3
2
1
3
2
-
jump
grab the air and hold on tight
touch the ground-
strech with
all ur
might
nothing matters
and the dirt
at the bottom of
ur shoe
will soon be
all over
u
taste the chaos of
the reality in ur fakeness
in the fakness of ur reality
of the reality and the fakness
place them in the pot
stir it all
together
drink the wich's brue
puke up
ur days here
on earch
in life
pill after pill
the perfect suicide
is
the process
of
thought
~~
by mary fitzsimmons
