**in the rainlight**

In the corner
on a discarded car seat
fabric torn and bruised
she sits hiding
in plain sight
while watching the show
so genuine
float featherlike
and sway mimicking flagsseductively swirling
under mirror ball squares
there stars on the ceiling,
fall to the ground
the music has died
replaced by rymathtic ringing
'tll do
secrets told to strangers
blame it on fire water
you only inhaled its perfume

The party. Sightly familiar faces filled the roomwe were greeted by strangers including hot red bull promo girls and noise control. I however only saw the energy drink givers. I danced on mismatched carpet to techno in front of these people I feel so in awe of and intimated by, at the same time. I left when the immy left as being alone there was more than my bravery could handle. Walked over the recently stained concrete to the light of the bus stop. Waited 17 minutes for a green booger bus to come through the darkness and collect me. It was raining by then. The headlights of passing cars lighting up the raindrops, and they looked like tears or diamonds falling from the sky. After entering and exiting the bus I passed the full to exploding bars and pubs along ponsonby road on my way home... as I walked down the street I felt this overwhelming surge of intimidation, and suffocating loneliness. It made it hurt to breath. Breathing shouldn't be a hard thing to do.

I've never liked my emotions getting out of control on me . So when I feel them coming on hard, strong and fast like they did in the middle of a dim street with raindrops dripping off the ends of my hair, its hard to handle. I don't know why I'm writing this, I don't know when exactly the feeling stopped. I know I got inside. And into my dark room, started writing and filled up a glass with leftover cider. But as for where this overwhelming, all consuming sense of abandonment came from and went.... I'm stumped..

**to vent**

i don't want comments. i just need to vent. and i can't vent on my other blog for reasons that'll remain name-less so... yeah... i'm okay


This Social leper
Has just become a statistic
Left alone
With her insides ripped out
Another in the heard
Called To the slaughter
Sucked dry
And tossed asideI’ve become a killer?
Guilt. Regrets. relief
In the same bowlone box self destruction….
for the empty girl..


They circle.
Female Ghosts
Lives emptyl
ike the prams they push
And stare.
“Oh if looks could kill”
but that would mean being as inhuman as you…