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To you our minds we unfold

Sometimes we all feel dead, but we all uphold our image to please the crowds of mass society.. Keeping everything from our facade tight - to our beautifully painted sketched-on smiles, trying to deem ourselves "real.." To you, our minds are nothing beautiful.. You only know our earthly smiles and i love you's.. You are what we have come to know and hate.. You are what has been corrupted by the world of darkness.. The world of pain..

-[Megan]-
-[Broken on: January 29, 1986]-

x.ADDICT
And she falls like the rain
The night dies about her
She effuses her soul
Within these shadows
The dissolution deep inside;
Holds her close, drags her beneath;
Strips her bare of all her pride;
And leaves her barren in her grief;

She makes certain she can’t remember;
Her haunted past, her name;
Easy to justify the means;
When it’s an end to all the pain;

Maybe if she cries loud enough;
Or she screams loud enough;
Shares her empty thoughts;
No one will see her soul;

An empty beauty;
A curse that knows no blessings;
Like a mannequin;
To watch the sky fall;

She is beholden to the ice;
That lets her drain her life away;
The beauty ensures she’ll be a victim;
So a demimonde she’ll stay;

She drinks their ardor with her lips;
Lets them prey upon her bones;
But in the end they’re all the same;
And her body is still cold;

So she pushes light away;
Allows the angels to keep preying;
Death is nearer every day;
Eagerly she waits;
For its peace and solitude and nothingness;

And warmth;

She numbs herself with knives;
A bottle clouds her past;
And who were you to try to free her;
When she’d achieved her end at last;

She was waning in this garden;
Amidst the concrete she so loved;
But you had to try and reach her;
Let her laugh and let her love;

Sent her spiraling towards forever;
But forever didn’t come;

You never saw her leave the past;
And turn into a closet dreamer;
With your picture in her locket;
Where her secret used to be;

Traded one addiction for another;
Oblivion for unrequited dreams;

So the drug becomes the addict;
And the cutter breaks the habit;
And now the only name she knows is;

yours;;

x. Reflection
Beautiful;
Strong;
Honest;
Creative;
Loving;
Capable;
Free;

Why can’t I see;
Everything you say I am;
While trying your hardest to help me;
But my eyes are shut;
The lenses warped;
You hold up a mirror;
But all I see is;

Depressed;
Weak;
Unstable;
Moody;
Lonely;
Stupid;
Unworthy;

What is the truth;
Both cannot be;
I want to believe;
To see as you do;
But who am I;

Am I the reflection;
That I see in the mirror;
Or in your eyes;

x. A Single Rose
As I gazed upon it,
I realized it was beautiful;
The single rose growing up from the sand;
Defiant color stood against the dismal sky;
Amazed, I looked…
I wanted…
I felt…
I loved...

Yes, I knew better than to claim the rose;
Yes, I knew better than to even touch it;
But I could stand a little way from it;
And, from a safe distance, admire its splendor;

But then, committing the most vulgar of sins--
I tried to share it with my closest friends;
Thinking they would understand how unique;
How rare the beauty of this lonely desert bloom;

They did not appreciate it at all--
Instead, they showed me only anger and fear;
Out of concern, they granted me a “favor”
And beat the flower back into the ground;

I didn’t know that the bloom was part of me;
I didn’t know, until I was covered with sand;
Will they miss me, cradled in the choking earth--
A child in the arms of an abusive past?

More importantly, will I forget the beauty of the bloom;
Color standing defiantly against the dismal sky?

------------------------------------

x. Escape

There are some places no person should go.. Not in a physical sense but in your mind.. A place where you lose all feeling in your body but still ache.. It starts in the center, the pain, and works its way outward through your veins until the pain is all you feel.. It spreads until it is right under your very skin and pounding for release.. But all they tell you is to shut up and smile.. "You're an embarrassment. Why can't you just be perfect?", they say.. So you use every ounce of energy you have to push it all back and try to be the trophy daughter they all want.. For a while you last with your mask of happiness.. Making sure never to let anyone see whats beneath.. The infinite sadness, constant insecurity, anger, confusion, and complete hopelessness.. All they need to see is all they want to see.. So thats what you give them.. Its still not enough.. You take their criticism, their scrutiny, their abuse, blow by blow.. And if a seam comes loose you carefully sitch on that smile, any emotion other than blank and numb happiness is weakness.. Weakness is IMPERFECTION! And they will never love that which isn't perfect! Only your eyes tell the truth.. Those eyes could give you away in an instant.. But not to worry, no one ever looks long enough to notice anyway.. If anyone did look close enough they would see the emotions growing and festering and eating away at whats left of your spirit.. And one day you break.. You scream.. Then cry.. Letting as much as you can out just trying to release every last bit of pain that has been building up and now resurfacing in all its morbid glory.. You shriek and weep until you've lost your voice and can't produce another tear.. And still you hurt! As you pushed all this back it swelled inside you and is now much stronger than you ever imagined.. All you wanted was to be numb, now you'll feel every bit of pain 3 fold.. You're alone and afraid.. The price you pay for suffering is more suffering.. Is there ever an escape?

--------------------------------------------------

x. Void

'I'm on the outside;
I'm looking in;
I can see through you;
See your true colors;
Inside you're ugly;
You're ugly like me;
I can see through you;
See the real you'
- Outside - Staind

It should have come as no surprise that, in the end, it would always boil down to this.. That underneath the skin and behind those blue eyes, there lies and breathes this tormented blackness; A reproachful, reprehensible aspect that is neither desired nor visible until it is too late.. Old cliches coming rushing in with a wave of disgusted rembrance of all that had gone before.. You don't know what you got till it's gone,life's a bitch and then you die, you never want anything except that which you cannot have.. There is no feeling in these old words, just the understanding that has grown, grown, finally understood, finally unduly and undearly comprehended.. It has taken me years before I have finally be able to stand there and gaze out into the blackness, and simply know.. Smile with a wry, knowing smile that this is what it is and all it will ever be.. You wake up one morning and realise that you had known it all along.. Childish and foolish expectation and curiousity was crushed somewhere along the line, when I wasn't even looking..

It was blindness that kept me holding on..
It was blindness and stupidity that pushed you away..

Oh how I loathe prose sometimes.. It's far more,(too) honest and far less subtle than a more poetic counterpart.. But I came here with an urge in my fingers.. And as usual, in my wonderfully refined manner, i manage to bleed words onto the white screen that are all of irrelevant, impartial and random.. Words that are both meaningless, and everything.. And could not resemble anything beautiful if I choked on the most exquisite flower..

Sometimes the clouds are so thick and grey that all that's left is the incessant, bumbling murmurings of panic and dullness in the absence of any significant sight.. Rhere is a stillness here that terrifies me.. A silence that screams louder than the widest volumes of rock and metal rage.. Sometimes I get the headaches from the silence rather than the noise.. I am afraid of the essence in my head.. What I say and what I don't. Am I supposed to be truthful, at your expense? Should I lie because it makes you happy? There are all too many and yet not enough words in the world to say I love you.. And then when I actually do I fear it comes out wrenched with a hollow and meaninglessness.. I don't know how to say it other than I smile when I think about killing myself.. I guess it's hard to reply to such a statement.. Where all that I see, think and feel is death death death, the endless void of nothingness..

'Love is not a victory march;
It's a cold and it's a broken;
Hallellujah'
- Hallellujah -Rufus Wainwright

---------------------------------------------

x. Silent Insanity

She is in the possession of a pain that threatens to turn her back into loony bin material.. She shakes, she trembles, she rises to her feet, she begins to gather up her pieces, only to fall again.. When something comes out of her head, it comes out as twisted, gnarled, unpretty gibberish.. Did you expect anything more? She is a world of wounded souls and silent eyes..


;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
What hurts the most sometimes is my fierce inability to express or show any of this.. This pain which grows and infests itself on me.. And these horrific images of bones being crushed, and loved ones dying, and eyes in flames.. Perhaps if you knew, you would frightened away, somewhat bemused and critical, or maybe disgusted.. "Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't.." Shakespeare's words, although not perfectly suited but my mind lingers on this quote.. And often I want to scream and burn and cry earth-shattering tears.. And often I just want to break.. But it all remains inside.. Everything feeds on in my mind to the point of no return and there is no escape from your own mind.. Look at me.. Can you tell that I am screaming inside? But I act so normal.. And I just want to have a complete mental breakdown, to remind me that I'm still alive but I keep on keeping on.. It's utterly ridiculous, this silent insanity.. I ponder my future; So crazy and beyond gone she simply can no longer speak.. For the words were never spoken, and one day it was finally to late.. And this pain sometimes.. This river run dry.. That slow dull ache that is often worse than the intensity.. And I am simply a mechanical being.. I continue to wake, and to dress, and to go about my daily routine.. I smile sometimes but usually I cannot stand to keep up the facade, so I simply do not bother.. make what you like.. I am still here.. I am not dead, I have not died yet.. I continue to breathe and move and sleep.. But I am dead.. Dead inside..

And one day I am going to explode.. Burst into brilliant dead black flames.. Because I was unable to keep it all inside anymore.. And I will burn.burn.burn.

[And there is nothing.nothing.nothing.]

Mechanical fucking robot.. A mechanical girl.. Your dead dead angel.. She never existed anyway.. Only in your dreams.. She is not real.. She was not here.. She can't even bleed anymore.. Because she just doesn't.. She doesn't have the willpower or the motivation or the energy to breathe or bleed.. Perhaps there is nothing for her anymore.. They say dreams keep us alive.. but what if your dreams have since been dead?

---------------------------------------------

x. Just words

It's just words, crawling across the page.. Etchings of everythings and nothings.. And often the soul searching drags you down, holds you under until you're afraid to get up for fear of choking on the smog above.. You don't speak truth, to save someone from a harsher reality, but perhaps it is all in due time.. There is nobody here, there's nobody at the door.. But there is knocking.. A voluptuous noise that implants itself into your brain and feeds on the essence of your mind.. Still there is knocking.. And in the background, a woman's wail, an end of clear cut emotion and the beginning of what perhaps it has always been.. And hope comes banging down the door and crushes us all into pieces because hope is often simply a weapon of destruction.. Down, down below.. The river of quiet black glides into oblivion in a peaceful motion.. Leaves you questioning.. wondering.. opening into muddle..

But there are no answers.. Only questions..

And it doesn't matter who you are.. It doesn't matter who we are. And it certainly doesn't matter who I am, because all we know is that we're stuck in this wasted flat existence we call life.. And it fucking hurts..

-[All original works by: Megan Renee Lane]-

dig a little deeper
more of Megan's thoughts

-[Garret]-
-[Broken on: September 30, 1985]-

ConForMitY:

Sometimes.
I sit here and think.
about the ways of life.
how it treats
us, and you.
how you cry so much
how you feel this pain
I want to hug you.
i want to be with you.
i feel your embarassment
when someone makes fun of you.
i feel the pain you experience.
from not being yourself.
i feel the pain.
in your eyes.
the heat from your
heart.
the passion dying to escape.
to live
to be
yourself.
but you must not
you must live this lie.
you must kill yourself
conform to the mass
die with the rest.

JuSt aSk:

What more can I do
can i slit my wrists
for you
can I cut my hair
for you
can i talk more gramatically correct?
for you
can I use bigger words
can i die
is that what you want
cause you can have it.
I'll do it
for you
anything else?
any more requests
I'll do anything
for you
I'll lie
steal
cheat
pretend to be someone I'm not
for you
to protect you.
to save you
I'll choke on my tears
tighten the noose
tear out my hair
claw my eyes
for you
I'll do it.
Just ask.

LyIng nExt To YoU:

You walk by me, everyday.
never a word..
is spoken
between our hearts
our souls forever
remain silent
I feel your
passion
I understand
your love of the shiny metal
I feel the self hate
that you have learned to love
I feel your pain
inside.
you think you hide it
as well as I do.
you don't.
for I know
I can see into you.
as you can see into me
you see my pain
HURT
sufferring
the eternal struggle
over my mind inside.
you can feel my hurt
with you.
and i feel the slashes
the slits
the cuts
that define your soft skin
the life essence
that pours out
down your arms
I can feel
as you press the knife into your flesh.
releving the pain
for a moment.
and as the world becomes black
and silence falls.
the room spins
but you see me standing there
in the corner
staring with my eyes.
a single tear falls
I feel it too.
i feel the adreniline
as i watch your life flow away.
I pick up the knife myself.
i join you in your demise
and lay on the floor
resting my head
in the puddle on the floor
my white shirt
now stained red.
whose blood is it
but both of ours now.
forever joined.
though we never spoke
of the truth inside.
we lay on the floor
Looking into each others eyes.
and know.
you smile at me
as i grab your hand
taking one last puff of a cigarette
I throw it across the room
shifting closer
we slowly hold hands
the first real touch
of any sign of love
in our lives.
the meaning is so clear
why'd we wait
I begin to cry
only a single tear
you turn your face to the ceiling
our note is attached
to the lamp light
it reflects one word on the wall
you begin to mouth
the word
so plainly seen
but stop
as i see
relief flow through your veins
empty
finally
the eyes
speak no pain anymore.
and your hand falls loose
the room is dark now
my throat is dry
one last cough is mine
and then...

-[All original works by: Garret Rutledge Oneil Wyatt]-

more of Garret's thoughts

-[John]-
-[Broken on: June 12, 1987]-

Your gone


your gone...
these feelings that i have,
deep inside my heart are as black as ashes because we’ve been apart.
this separation is bothering me
i’m not so sure of you
but deep inside of my soul all i feel is blue.
i’d rather die than feel the pain that is inside my head
but if you were to come back would i want to be dead?
i wish i’d spend my life with you together forever from here on out
but until that day you come back i’ll live my life in doubt.
if only it were easier, if only you hadn’t left,
but now your gone far away and i’m coming close to death.
i wish you were back to see me one more time
but until that day you come back i hope i shall stay fine.

Pain

when you look in my eyes,
what do you see?
do you see the things that i’ve seen?
can you feel the things i feel
i sometimes wonder if this is real..
..if one can feel another’s pain,
see another’s life in vane.
would you sit and torment me more
or just be thankful this life’s not yours.
nobody knows what i’ve been through
but what you care if you even knew?
i don’t ask for love,
i don’t ask for hate,
all i ask is that you try to relate.

light and dark...

we relate light to life,
and dark to death.
we complain about death and darkness
but would we have life without death?
light without dark?
we relate light to good,
and dark to evil.
we complain about darkness and evil
but would we not have evil if it were not for the good
that makes it come out?
would we appreciate the light without the dark?
we relate light to love,
and dark to hate.
we complain about hatred and darkness
but could we have love without hate?
light without dark?
we relate light to the angels,
and dark to the demons.
but would we not have the demons
if it were not for the angels
who make themselves so demonic,
who are so right and wrong at the same time?
could we see the light without having the dark?
as you see,
the light makes the darkness seem so dark,
but is the dark not light?
is the light not filled with darkness?
in life is good not evil,
and evil not good?
......the day is to the light as the night is to the dark?
but as the demons arise,
do the angels not hark?
can we not see that we make good what it is
and evil just what we want it to be?
or is it that we just want to see it our way?
.....whether awake or dreaming
it’s always there the light and darkness
and the equality they share..

No difference

the sun is falling to the ground
darkness is awakened the bad
and evil shall come out
and our fearful lives are shaken
the fear in us takes over our bodies when the light is no more
found our imagination gets the best of us
when we hear these unnormal sounds
what is wondering about us now
is there during dark and light
when the sun is gone
however though we try to imagine these frights
darkness does not threaten us anymore than the day
what we cannot explain however leads us so astray.

-[Original works by: John Micheal Key]-

a closer look HOME
Girl's Day Out

The people behind the mask

  • Megan
  • Garret
  • John