?

Log in

This is what you call a tragedy. [entries|friends|calendar]
atticus_intake

[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

some lyrics ive done. [06 Jun 2005|10:15am]
from sea to soil

coffee circles mark the spot, they show where my stab wound will be as i write my last entry on the typewriter. each word runs ink to the next so in the end you just get a black vortex that smuffers the smoke from your lungs as you inhale the toxic fumes from the art galleryarnos cracks of the walls of the paintings. im pulling my vocal chords and heartstrings to pull up this poem you have been longing to read for the life you have led so far. as the floor creaks and snaps and leads you to your dorm. another drunken night of drug filled rage. i know your going to kill me, i can feel it in my bones and the sarcastic comments i expect you say as you read this such as "that was the knife sliding through your ripcage that you felt". yes the funnist thing ive heard in a long time. soon i will fall asleep from deprivation and wake up in a not so alive state, maybe the heavens will open up and spell out "heaven - no vacancy" maybe i can come back to watch you as you find my best friends in my leather bound address book, the one i made for you with the boys you would liek ticked with a quill i crafted from teeth from your former victims. you cars underwater now and im standing above your river (death) bed i guess i woke up didnt i, "bitch" now the art gallaries will only paint my picture for the wanted posters and the pictures of you 5 ft below the small city sea. then 6 ft

 under the small city soil a poem in true old poem style


. a texas chainsaw dinner

 party hope you invite the guests in one by one give them a pearl white napkin to soak up the blood you hit the cartilige in his throat and the discs in her spine your playing dj this is your favorite song, per-say and sarcasm comes a free with the table cloths red wine finish chased down by some sparkling blue eyes as the last victim hits the oak and slowly dies because this is a chorus revenge so tender you nearly cried such hard work you nearly sighed silverwear so clean you can see whites of the peoples eyes your about to blind this parties so dead litterally... that the police lights are the only moonlight and sunrise you will see a news headliner soon to be soon to be but before that story starts time to try make a escape through the boats hull that is the window hedge into the street you never explained why you hated each member of the dinner guests and invites i know one is a former lover and one is the bank manager who likes you to slip into a nightdress every two days but the other three any connection to your hip flask therascios and sleep walking? maybe... maybe bridge or maybe there just blood lust a quick suger rush maybe there war trophies not nobally killed but a good wall portait maybe there just at the wrong place at the wrong time where fashinalbly late (is a punishment for lack of punchuality) chorus police are here


candle lit dinners

 i would eat your heart out but id probley get food poisoning so i will just grab my own survival of the fittist hes so much more prettiful than me beauty in the eyes, that models stance in the feet hes the competition hes has that fucking smile that glints a shine on the windscreen blinds your eyes you go flying through the window (into his arms you meet) is that your voice? i thought it was the cars wheels screetching across the crossroads into where we were suppost to meet you wonder why im jelous? its because i see the way you look at him the way you lift one leg when he hugs you and attempts a kiss (yes i am still here) bridge so this songs to all the prom queens the heartbreakers the candle stick makers the new scene the hot teens the breath takers i just one to say... i dont... need... (you)


buisness trip


you would have pizza in the pouring rain
he says its different and i know this sounds insane
but you need to invite him to a buisness trip
where the politics get whats coming to them

candlestick? revolver?
libary? everything but the kitchen sink?
who cares as long as the rooms painted
a nice red and light pink

and the badges on your bag
like dimionds to a ring
its what you truley want
is it him yur truley wanting?

i bet it fucking isnt

you will be jolly
once as the tv

says "teen killed
in freak car accident"



that was a joke song more than anything.





mistaken sex for a artifical addertive


everyones personal, its just adverticing
thats appertising to the weak and sympathetic
weak at the knees at the musically operatic
surgery
a million people watching you
operate on me

everyone got secrets and im one
to the naked eyes, watching skin
on skin
thrusting theighs
"whys there so many emotional ties
to sex?"
because i fucking love you
i love you baby

and im like waiting for a delayed plane
thats never coming back, because you knew
that it wasent a return ticket
you knew it, come on your brought it
and you on the intercom
your on the safty pictures
your evenon the tv

i cant get away from you
even in this new city

im recording this message, on machine
and allerby note book takings
to find your corpses
you call dates and mates
and easy males with
money for a drink
and a bed for three

three, your ghost of memories
thats been haunting your sex life
since it died in my arms
and in my aparment
complex
you will see me
window clean
twice seen

i haunted you,
now your haunting me.




the silent e in scene


fashion or feeling?
who cares really
because i put the silent e
on the end of breath
i allow you breathe,
in this scene

why the fuck you split?
you were the perfect teen
couple on the edge
i guess you went your seprate ways
because of musical differences

jeans, dont fit
they hold your ego tonight
shirts too tight
should i scream?
to get this song just right

should i just wrap
this phone line
around you neck
you still dont answer
unless your just a machine
(please replace the lipstick and try again)

baby your hot...
your a hotline number
and i have to ring my best friends
for your number
number to my own little actress

and this scene
isnt your colour

baby your lungs are big enough
for his quose rebelisnous

unless you dont speak

you just touch.





all of those are my weeks work, i hae more but they are to do with the other part of my full blown insporation.
(close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[12 Mar 2005|10:55am]

the kitchen is cold
but the coffee is warm
and the suns coming up
the day has just begun
and your already bored.

bored of cheering me up
bored of calming me down
bored of drying my eyes
but there once was a time when you were the one.
you were the blue of the sky
you came after the storm
you were the switch on the wall
in the dark of the hall
im still fumbling for

cuz im lost in the black
i dont know where I am.
arms strecthed out in front
im calling your name
just as loud as I can

I know theres words that we will never speak
and the questions cant be answered easily
but I wanted to be easy so


nod your head if the plans have change
shake it, love, they stayed the same
smile at me and I will stay
start to cry and I'll go away


just please dont leave me guessing.


so you made me come
then you sent me away


like -a messenger bird-


so I circled the earth
blown away in the wind
but I always returned
with some new little song
some sad story to tell
of a breif love affair
with a girl I compared to you and she failed


you said you dont want me to beg
then you said get down on your knees
cuz you knew that I would
if I do any good satisfying your needs.


and I know all about those things we cannot speak
and just so you know well they dont bother me
so you dont have to be worried


just nod your head if the plans have changed
shake it, love, if they stayed the same
smile at me and I will stay
start to cry and I'll go away


just please dont keep me waiting


just nod your head if your mind's been changed
shake it, love, if some hope remains
just say the word and of course ill stay
roll your eyes and Ill go away

 


just please dont leave me guessing.


just please dont keep me waiting...

(3 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

cant count the times that ive ruined you... [06 Jan 2005|06:10pm]
[ mood | indescribable ]

crappy day, just the same thought over and over for the last god knows how long is finally sending insane. and this thought i know isnt paranioa whcih is even worse. i dont even know why it hurts.

and woo! i made friends with the band member of "rains for days" girlfriend, im such a band whore but i dont care.

god i cant make anyone happy, blah,bleh,blue.

i think i lost the notes to my new poem, hannah if you see them tell me (seen as tho you said it was your fav by me)

(close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[31 Dec 2004|11:32pm]
[ mood | blank ]

greg was been sick, i was drunk and fallign asleep/ laura (not best friend pickford) was trying to go down on me, laura pickford is now going out with greg and we all got thrown out by his sister and mom.

go new year.


p.s two months, wootness.

(close my eyes. just for tonight.)

ever smiled so hard... [29 Dec 2004|10:55pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

...it stuck like that?              i think its called childhood. yep, my poem is added

 

 

 

i watched alot of movies, petes dragon been one of them! its weird... no one was online since they were at claires and me with lack of invitation. i shaved for the first time today, it was really depressing.

i always thought i would shave first with my dad, you know like the bonding way. where like i cut myself we both laugh then he tells me he loves me and i tell him i love him and call him "dad" like i mean it blah, blah, blah i guess divorce really breaks alot of simple memories, hopes and probley hearts.

 

it must be harder for girls because they have all that other stuff and its not like we need help with our stuff, its just for memories and bonding.

but in divorce its mainly always living with the mom so girls are ok.

so i ask myself.

we was there for first word, first steps, first bike and the first time i stayed up late and watched movies.

hes in for the infancy, what about the teenage? puberty? will he see my first car? first job?

first time i get my heart broken and need a sholder to cry on?

will he see my first speech...

 

...the first time when i say something that sticks with you forever, a toast to my mom and dad. it seems to be just my mom.

if i get marride and divorced i promise i wont miss my childrens first true happy memories, i will be the dad thats not funny and quite embarrising but they will still look up at me when we first do something together.

 

first finger painting, first steps, first time we both say i love you and call me father instead of dad.

 

because i dont think i could live if my childrens called me daniel.

(3 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

when i really see you... [29 Dec 2004|02:54pm]
[ mood | curious ]

...i really see you upside down.

but my brain knows better, and it turns right way round.



ever just begged god to let a moment stay? a moment when you can finally talk about stuff you personally find hard and it makes you feel great to feel like some ones actaully listning.


i told ellie and roisin something and they were really weird about it, but then i realised that its true. i do alot of things that make me unhappy to make people happy.

sometimes you have to be sad to make people happy.

i *heart* sssssoooooonnnnnggggg is prettyful <3 x 4985797652366654


i want to learn the tabs for it because it sounds quite easy.



my new poems about bus drivers and alot of questions. wootness (roisin has it stuck in my head)


i will post it on allpoetry when im convinced enough people have read my other one...



"i should of given you a reason to stay...

...given you a reason to stay."

(4 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

a short sweet frat party poem... [27 Dec 2004|02:53pm]
[ mood | weird ]

A SHORT SWEET FRAT PARTY POEM (A LONG BITTER ROAD TO RECOVERY)


down the stairs and across from the left, up to the April and down from the July.

simple directions to the never never land that is a short, sweet frat party romance.


up the stairs across to the bedroom into the beer and into the bed.


simple direction for a short sweet, frat party fuck.


there's still no proof that crowds exist and the sun is a living star, why is everything alive and feel so dead? i will pull of your bra and wonder why before in the car you asked...


"if i slowly drown... would you slowly breath?"

were you asking weather i like to see your problems weep and seep into the wounds that is my lyrics?

but the kiss is just happening. No plan, procedure or logical cause of the lips on the teeth.


no cause for the cocaine on the nose and nicotine on the mouth. your a drug sucking the fucking life out of my addiction dictionary.

after we "did it" as your friends call it or shout down the phone, i noticed little things... like the beautiful word cellar door. scribbled on the floor of the children's room where the teddy bears hang from the ceiling.


you once told me that i was your favourite documentary... i still don't see what you meant by that.

but till the long October weeks chased down by item leaves make it so you wont need infancy or a memory for those brainless, shirtless month calendar girlfriends.


i still wonder but never ask if you wrote this fate on the bonnet and ice as you lay on the front for me to touch you... or was that my friends who trust in the beer keg more than there serious lack of judgement?

i wrote that segment down before i did sleep. did not understand the expressions i was scribbling even though they were my emotions.

i write this on the dashboard that hasn't been cleaned of dust for a while... "scratch in your eye more like a sparkle than a blood (bullet) shot near the pigment of your deepness of thought. your mind extends more than your eye lids open when we awake"

i wrote that because i know you didn't want to see me this morning, you didn't want to remember it was me you slept with, i was sober... i did not know you were not.


hurry up, we don't want to join the flowers on the side of the road like the dead black cats on the drive causing a omen.

the headlights of your eyes shine like the sun through the trees, so very beautiful and doesn't come much to see.

"you never kissed me goodnight, never even kissed me goodbye before the prescription wife runs out and needs a new blender..."

that written in home economics, poetic as my friends may seem they are yet sexist as they come.


I'm opening the night and sun rise for you, burning the homework so we have time to hang out.


i wish this was harder than up and down the stairs, i wish this was a sweet but long life party romance, no need to sleep together to bring the relationship further along.


i want to go down the stairs to the cellar door down to the basement up to the garden around by the swing back to the front door locked by the problems taking the window open by the love, i don't need a map to follow my heart, for it is longing to find you. try to believe me when i say i love you and this is more than a short sweet frat part romance, more than...


a short sweet frat party fuck.




lets blame the rain on love.





my new poem on allpoetry, put it here because it got sent to teh adult sectiob and under 18s can no longer see it.


tell me what you think.

(1 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

chhhhhhitsmas [26 Dec 2004|12:00pm]
[ mood | amused ]

go christmas, i was drunk in the morning, dont do it, you can feel yoursefl sobering up. but im glad i did because laura admitted shes in love with me... so i did the friendly thing and changed the convosation quickly, i swear i got a dvd player, why the fuck i need that!? bloody hell.

no one gave me goonies,

donnie darko yes.


goonies no!


who doesnt enjoy watch children find gold with a retard in a superman shirt!?

its great!


i wish i had i had it for my birthday *hint hint*

(7 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[23 Dec 2004|01:00am]
[ mood | contemplative ]

if cutting forces out emotional pain... can it force out other things?

and if it does arnt you just lieing to yourself and the feeling is still there?




please reply truthfully and tell me what you think.

(3 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

jealously, turning saints into the sea... [19 Dec 2004|11:49am]
ever been thought of something and then thought "nah that isnt going to happen" then you just see everything around you fueling that paranio?

i know what i have to do, can i do it? fuck no! i can never do it. fucking hell dan, just say it. isnt taht fucking hard, get a life.

fucking hell my mom saw me doing something, she got really worried and started having a panic attack. i wish i couldeve of helped her.


photos, live j entries, poems... everything is against me.





i read some of my very old poems, there very weird... strange i can still remeber the inspo for them all.


so what should i do? if theres anyone whos confidental and non-judging enough to help me i like to see you try.
(7 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[18 Dec 2004|08:45pm]
theres a question, its killing me, but i cant ask it.


i read a old entry from hannahs new journal, god did it make me sad.
(1 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[18 Dec 2004|07:28pm]
i hate photographs, its not even my memory. </3 brought my mom a e.o recored for christmas and my sister a scarf. juliana brought me laces, woo. i got claire something(she reads this so i wont say) but i didnt buy it as much as steal it.
(6 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

he was so nice... [17 Dec 2004|10:34pm]
[ mood | gloomy ]

Vincent Malloy is seven years old
He's polite and always does as he's told
For a boy his age, he's considerate and nice
But he wants to be just like Vincent Price

He doesn't mind living with his sister, dog, and cats
Though he'd rather share a home with spiders and bats
There he could reflect on the horrors he has invented and wander dark hallways alone and tormented

Vincent is nice when his aunt comes to see him
But imagines dipping her in wax for his wax museum
He likes to experiment on his dog Abocrombie
In the hopes of creating a horrible zombie
So that he and his horrible zombie dog
could go searching for victims in the London fog

His thoughts aren't only of ghoulish crime
He likes to paint and read to pass some of the time
While other kids read books like "Go Jane Go"
Vincent's favorite author is Edgar Allen Poe.

One night while reading a gruesome tale
he read a passage that made him turn pale
Such horrible news he could not survive
For his beautiful wife had been buried alive

He dug out her grave to make sure she was dead
Unaware that her grave was his mother's flower bed
His mother sent Vincent off to his room
He knew he'd been banished to the tower of doom
where he was sentenced to spend the rest of his life
alone with the portrait of his beautiful wife.

While alone and insane incased in his doom
Vincent's mother burst suddenly into the room
She said, "If you want, you can go out and play
It's sunny outside and a beautiful day."

Vincent tried to talk but he just couldn't speak
the years of isolation had made him quite weak
So he took out some paper and scrawled with a pen:
"I'm possessed by this house and can never leave it again."

His mother said, "You are NOT possessed and you are NOT almost dead
These games you play are all in your head
You are NOT Vincent Price, you're Vincent Malloy
You're not tormented or insane, you're just a young boy
You're seven years old, and you are my son
I want you to get outside and have some real fun."

Her anger now spent, she walked out through the hall
While Vincent backed slowly against the wall
The room started to sway, to shiver and creak
His horrored insanity had reached its peak
He saw Abocrombie, his zombie slave
and heard his wife call from beyond the grave

She spoke through her coffin and made ghoulish demands
While through cracking walls reached skeleton hands
Every horror in his life that had crept through his dreams
swept his mad laughter to terrified screams

To escape the badness, he reached for the door
but fell limp and lifeless down on the floor
His voice was soft and very slow
As he quoted "The Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe:
"And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted...Nevermore."




im in love with this poem and film. <3 x 553356546765778

(close my eyes. just for tonight.)

dear diary my teen angst bullshit... [16 Dec 2004|04:45pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

ewww, saw a picture today that really made me sick, luke was like "whos that" i couldent really say who it was because i really didnt want to say but it still made me very sick.

amy likes her braclet but love her resealable bag <3

julia loves her rainbow pencil/crayons/rubber thingy.

and luke was like "what the fuck is that?"


cant stop thinking of that picture... thinking of the diffent choices i could of taken, that pictures started off a revolation of paranio, as if i dont have enough *sigh*


i always have people telling me its so hard to read me or know what im thinking, i think and live two differnt things.


but still no ones cares, no one reads *humes to self a tune*



woo im getting a belt buckle soon! <3 x 5478934896



go me.

(4 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

alexisonfire! <3 [11 Dec 2004|09:20am]
[ mood | exanimate ]

i touched george! i fucking touched him with my own hands, he was sweaty but who cares! i was so proud i even told mrs begley

this has been a fucking amazing month, sarah for a month and to top it off, alexisonfire and bled!

but its the moring and im mashed, me and niall didnt get home till about half 12 seen as the lack of transport.

ha! i was right about alexis-onfire, when the bands pronouced it the right way i went fucking crazy! all i could shout was "in your face!"

george is sooooooooo funny, and him and the guy from the bled were getting it on!

with HEART BOXERS!


a girl went crazy when i gave her back her shoe in the moshpit, she talked to me about random crap, she was weird.


niall was horny the whole fucking gig, first i licked creg, eeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, then niall licked everyone.

then it was niall or jess who felt up my ass for about a minute, i dont know why!


at the end creg had breats, i talked to a guy at the merch table about his water pistol and brought a shirt.




george loves wistles!

(2 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[09 Dec 2004|05:14pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

everyone loves my poem "poetic blacks dedication to a old friend" poem,

heres a line...


sorry, writers block for the girl in black and restless poetic verse... poetic black. <3 x 39748974924243



a not so lighter note, i never have the guts and when i do it too late! moronic? i like to think so. </3 x 7936578629872

(2 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

[06 Dec 2004|07:08pm]
[ mood | cynical ]

i love you sarah,

 

if you accept it or not...

 

 

you may not even read this... but woo...

(1 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

no one in the world like emily... [06 Dec 2004|11:44am]
[ mood | blah ]

Smiles and her laughter
its the only thing that I've been waiting for a time
regardless of our distance and our hope...grows greater
trapped by pretty eyes and letters for all time
...the only thing that I've been waiting for.

I hope its something worth the waiting
cause its the only time that I ever feel real
thunder storms could never stop me
cause there's no one in the world like Emily

she's simple yet confusing
her sparkling eyes make me weak and my words, they tremble
days seem like years in this month of December
the winter coldens me for I have yet to sleep
and never will I give up trying because you're everything to me

I hope its something worth the waiting
its the only time that I ever feel real
thunder storms could never stop me


cause there's no one in the world like emily.

<3 x 784969724836

 

 

im at home ill.

 

so im just goign to babble,

 

i went to birmingham with greg on saturday, it was fun we just talked man to man and looked at the attractive paris slut at yo yo.

i said something very stupid yesterday which i crossed my heart i wouldent, so as the punishment goes... everyone always says "open up you wont hurt me" why am i always vindacted... i cried to no lies just love, it was very sad but magical and soothing. conor is emo genius. with my new phone ive been taking pictures of everything but people, im soooooooooooooooooooooo emo... seriously im not emo. omg hannah kissed ste! woo!, but shes so smart, i wihs i thought of calling my journal something and calling is charlie is so cool, its like a tribute, its hard to remind your self he never really excisted.

 

so everyone had a good weekend, and i guess i did to, except the massive mistake i made,

(1 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

love letters dont suit you like suicide notes... [04 Dec 2004|12:25pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

I now pronounce you arsenic and cyanide (you may kiss the bride)


so wear your arsenic lipstick and kiss me like i wasent expecting it...


<3 x 957743587

(1 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

i cant sleep... you're holding me. [03 Dec 2004|09:35pm]
[ mood | blah ]

CLOCKING IN AND COUNTING TO A THOUSAND.




no sheep to count me to sleep,

so i will count you're fatal flaws...


...and the guys before me.



empty beds,

and three sweet dreams...



...until i awaken to the old perfume,

empty chests...




and some heart felt lyrics, saying you're leaving.



and im staying here on this railway track.



"belive me jessica,
it never felt this way in evening stars,
just brand new sun set scenes.

i heard red letter
red paint, even from afar,
didn't understand what the lipstick means"



this is a letter you will read a thousand times,


and a note you can fold more than eight.




this love can only touch two,
shame it wasent you,
love never comes in three,
so i guess he the only guy for me.




so im counting you're fatal flaws,

and remebering my best friends.


on the kitchen floor...


while im clocking in.

(2 | close my eyes. just for tonight.)

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]