PICS
I fucking love this lady............
But I hate when I miss her phonecalls, Which seems to happen um fuck EVERY TIME lately. At least I can still talk to her telepathically.
Thanks for all your answers, I try to be an optimist most of the time until I realize theres blood coming from my head.
This morning was all death and chaos but it's prettier now.
Jordan helped with my writers block. I can't stop reading her words. I want our souls to collide one day. Raw and real.
I've been staying up late cutting out words and images to make this collage about my addictions. after darkness comes light and then it starts again.
When I felt the gun in my hand, all I could see was blood. It was so much heavier than it looked. I got mental images of it where it had been before, bursting out of some angry car to inflict bullet wounds during a drive by. I handed it back to the kid with the tear drop tattoos on his face.He kept looking over his shoulder nervously. "You sure?" He asked "It's a great piece." I looked up at the fading pink sun dissapearing under the city buildings and nodded. I guess my fate is in the hands of god now, wherever she may be.
Love, Lily
- One more lame question..... What one thing do you really want to accomplish or experience before death hits?
But I hate when I miss her phonecalls, Which seems to happen um fuck EVERY TIME lately. At least I can still talk to her telepathically.
Thanks for all your answers, I try to be an optimist most of the time until I realize theres blood coming from my head.
This morning was all death and chaos but it's prettier now.
Jordan helped with my writers block. I can't stop reading her words. I want our souls to collide one day. Raw and real.
I've been staying up late cutting out words and images to make this collage about my addictions. after darkness comes light and then it starts again.
When I felt the gun in my hand, all I could see was blood. It was so much heavier than it looked. I got mental images of it where it had been before, bursting out of some angry car to inflict bullet wounds during a drive by. I handed it back to the kid with the tear drop tattoos on his face.He kept looking over his shoulder nervously. "You sure?" He asked "It's a great piece." I looked up at the fading pink sun dissapearing under the city buildings and nodded. I guess my fate is in the hands of god now, wherever she may be.
Love, Lily
- One more lame question..... What one thing do you really want to accomplish or experience before death hits?
"We are all Outlaws in the eyes of Amerika"
I was wandering the sidewalk with one of my favorite boys when I first heard his voice. "Aye Bello." He yelled. I swirled around. Dark circles under his eyes and still wearing his gang colors after all the time that past him spent living in a 6 foot cell. Resistance,
I ran into his arms and memories flooded my brain, Like when I first met him on 96th st, We were both dope sick as hell and waiting for our methadone. It was our first day in the program. He was wild and tall full of tattoos, bullet wounds, and scars. I was dirty and punk rock. No one else would sit next to us. Probably because they were afraid of him, and me well I just smelled bad. We laughed about it. Exchanged bad jokes and middle fingers, wandering eyes and crazy stories. When the suits finally opened the window, He pushed every one else out of the way and let me go first. The beginning.
After that I would go to the meetings just to be around him because his energy was contagious and warm and fun. His wife was a whore, I remember thinking how black her skin was, and how her eyes were just as sociopathic as his were. Like some fucked up version of Bonnie and Clyde, They rode together, and I showed them where I would hustle at night, He had gotten kicked off of his turf for jumping some cripts. One day in a cracked out rage he pulled a gun out on one of our counserlors. I never saw him again until months later through a Television screen watching some documentary about the latin kings, I said, "I swear thats Tony."
and it was. Fast forward.
When I finally left his arms and sat down next to him I said "I haven't seen you in like..." "14 months and 2 days" he finished. When you are in jail, You count the seconds, The minutes, The Days, Months, and then Years. There was something different about him, The pride was almost gone and I just felt a whole lot of saddness. I asked him if he could get me a gun. "Shits that crazy out here Lil?" He asked. "Nah, I said, I just want my death to be in my own hands, ya know? I'm gonna go out like Hunter S. Thompson." He smiled and agreed to get me a gun. He told me he had just robbed some couples house and opened a drawer and found like 25 guns but he had to get rid of them so fast that they were gone now. He detailed the experience like it was some strange victory for him "The bitch kept screaming, I mean i told her i wasn't going to shoot nobody, But the stupid bitch had to keep screaming, So i kept the gun to her head for the rest of the time i raided their house" He laughed "That shut that bitch up.". I asked him what he wanted to be when he was a kid. "An actor or a rockstar" he said. He would have been a great actor. He had a faded tattoo that read "Rockstar" On his hand. It was way out of place from all the other tattoos, The big "KRIPT KILLERS" tattoo on his arm and lots of latin king tattoos. The rain before the storm. "Do you think you have a conscience when you are doing all that crazy shit?" I asked him. "I do have a conscience" he answered "But i turn it off when I need to." I traced his rockstar tattoo with my finger. "That can be pretty dangerous" I answered. "So?" He said. "So nothing, Except I love you, and I think its pretty stupid that you are already robbing people and shit when you JUST got out." I said. "Lil, C'mon, Did i give you shit when you asked for a gun? Did I say anything about that? Maybe we should go call the suicide hotline because i love you." He answered. Sarcasm in the air. Me and Tony were never really good at real conversation, and he liked it that way. We just joked and laughed and made fun of the suits. So I just opened his arms and let myself inside them and he put his hand inside of mine. Silence was golden. When I got up we promised to meet up again and then I watched as he walked back to his corner to sling crack.
Silent Killer.
Love, Lily
I was wandering the sidewalk with one of my favorite boys when I first heard his voice. "Aye Bello." He yelled. I swirled around. Dark circles under his eyes and still wearing his gang colors after all the time that past him spent living in a 6 foot cell. Resistance,
I ran into his arms and memories flooded my brain, Like when I first met him on 96th st, We were both dope sick as hell and waiting for our methadone. It was our first day in the program. He was wild and tall full of tattoos, bullet wounds, and scars. I was dirty and punk rock. No one else would sit next to us. Probably because they were afraid of him, and me well I just smelled bad. We laughed about it. Exchanged bad jokes and middle fingers, wandering eyes and crazy stories. When the suits finally opened the window, He pushed every one else out of the way and let me go first. The beginning.
After that I would go to the meetings just to be around him because his energy was contagious and warm and fun. His wife was a whore, I remember thinking how black her skin was, and how her eyes were just as sociopathic as his were. Like some fucked up version of Bonnie and Clyde, They rode together, and I showed them where I would hustle at night, He had gotten kicked off of his turf for jumping some cripts. One day in a cracked out rage he pulled a gun out on one of our counserlors. I never saw him again until months later through a Television screen watching some documentary about the latin kings, I said, "I swear thats Tony."
and it was. Fast forward.
When I finally left his arms and sat down next to him I said "I haven't seen you in like..." "14 months and 2 days" he finished. When you are in jail, You count the seconds, The minutes, The Days, Months, and then Years. There was something different about him, The pride was almost gone and I just felt a whole lot of saddness. I asked him if he could get me a gun. "Shits that crazy out here Lil?" He asked. "Nah, I said, I just want my death to be in my own hands, ya know? I'm gonna go out like Hunter S. Thompson." He smiled and agreed to get me a gun. He told me he had just robbed some couples house and opened a drawer and found like 25 guns but he had to get rid of them so fast that they were gone now. He detailed the experience like it was some strange victory for him "The bitch kept screaming, I mean i told her i wasn't going to shoot nobody, But the stupid bitch had to keep screaming, So i kept the gun to her head for the rest of the time i raided their house" He laughed "That shut that bitch up.". I asked him what he wanted to be when he was a kid. "An actor or a rockstar" he said. He would have been a great actor. He had a faded tattoo that read "Rockstar" On his hand. It was way out of place from all the other tattoos, The big "KRIPT KILLERS" tattoo on his arm and lots of latin king tattoos. The rain before the storm. "Do you think you have a conscience when you are doing all that crazy shit?" I asked him. "I do have a conscience" he answered "But i turn it off when I need to." I traced his rockstar tattoo with my finger. "That can be pretty dangerous" I answered. "So?" He said. "So nothing, Except I love you, and I think its pretty stupid that you are already robbing people and shit when you JUST got out." I said. "Lil, C'mon, Did i give you shit when you asked for a gun? Did I say anything about that? Maybe we should go call the suicide hotline because i love you." He answered. Sarcasm in the air. Me and Tony were never really good at real conversation, and he liked it that way. We just joked and laughed and made fun of the suits. So I just opened his arms and let myself inside them and he put his hand inside of mine. Silence was golden. When I got up we promised to meet up again and then I watched as he walked back to his corner to sling crack.
Silent Killer.
Love, Lily
"Who's reality are you talking about? Mine? Yours? Or everyone else around us?"
Lost all this weight but even more love.
Lay next to this woman with dementia and she spoke to me in spanish rhymes, saying she'd be my new mother if i wanted and her biood daughter could have been mother theresa except for the crack smoke extending around me like some kind of sick joke, Blatantly cursing to me that theres so much flaw in beauty, or maybe just beauty the way i like it.
I called twice before she answered the phone, she cursed me with her still broken english, "Where have you been?"
Her, My only and constant inspiration in a world i made up, but still is too black to find something like her.
" I'm stuck in an institution and theres people dying all around me, But i'll be back soon."
and when her tears beat against the receiver, More pretty than the sound of rain on my back, I knew that my love for her was more real than anything else around me.
Love, Lily
Lost all this weight but even more love.
Lay next to this woman with dementia and she spoke to me in spanish rhymes, saying she'd be my new mother if i wanted and her biood daughter could have been mother theresa except for the crack smoke extending around me like some kind of sick joke, Blatantly cursing to me that theres so much flaw in beauty, or maybe just beauty the way i like it.
I called twice before she answered the phone, she cursed me with her still broken english, "Where have you been?"
Her, My only and constant inspiration in a world i made up, but still is too black to find something like her.
" I'm stuck in an institution and theres people dying all around me, But i'll be back soon."
and when her tears beat against the receiver, More pretty than the sound of rain on my back, I knew that my love for her was more real than anything else around me.
Love, Lily
All her life she was obsessed with birds. Her own wings ripped, She would watch the birds fly, wishing she had the very same ability. My blood aunt, The black sheep me and her. I always remembered her with her busted black eyes and her bad boyfriends and her heroin shuffle. I always felt a deep connection to her. Me and her, born into something a little too crazy.
I cant do this anymore she says
With your mercury mouth in the missionary times, and your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
She falls beside me with her vodka breathe and I can see her scar its jagged and harsh and still beautiful.
She is rhythmic and slow. She walks around like shes dancing to a sad song. I had heard that she had shaved all of her hair off, I knew it was to get ready for the war. I remember that fateful night my sister called me. I knew something was wrong because my sister and I were not speaking at that time. Sara, she muttered She jumped like 70 ft into the quarry. Shes in the intensive care unit, they dont think shes going to survive..
I guess my sister didnt know much about survival. Not like me and Sara did anyway.
I knew, I knew She wanted to fly, just like the birds she loved so much.
Who among them do they think could carry you? Sad eyed lady of the lowlands
She strums her guitar inside of her little prison. Decorated the walls with memories of a time when maybe she was happier. She strums her guitar, but the words dont come. I hold her hand. This wasnt supposed to happen she says, teary eyed like a small child in my arms. This was the third time she had said this. What? I ask her. I was supposed to die in that quarry, I was supposed to fucking die. She stumbles to her counter to crush up some pills, carefully curls up a dollar bill and all the little white dust sweeps itself inside her head now, Relaxes her weary soul. I know her pain, I can feel it like we are Siamese twins connected at the heart.
Your saint-like face and your ghost like soul, Who among them do you think could destroy you? Sad-eyed lady of the low lands
I watch the tears fall. Tears of a thousand years of rape, abuse, and mutilation. I watch her as she says again and again that she wishes she was dead and somehow I wonder if she already is.
sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
I cant do this anymore she says
With your mercury mouth in the missionary times, and your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
She falls beside me with her vodka breathe and I can see her scar its jagged and harsh and still beautiful.
She is rhythmic and slow. She walks around like shes dancing to a sad song. I had heard that she had shaved all of her hair off, I knew it was to get ready for the war. I remember that fateful night my sister called me. I knew something was wrong because my sister and I were not speaking at that time. Sara, she muttered She jumped like 70 ft into the quarry. Shes in the intensive care unit, they dont think shes going to survive..
I guess my sister didnt know much about survival. Not like me and Sara did anyway.
I knew, I knew She wanted to fly, just like the birds she loved so much.
Who among them do they think could carry you? Sad eyed lady of the lowlands
She strums her guitar inside of her little prison. Decorated the walls with memories of a time when maybe she was happier. She strums her guitar, but the words dont come. I hold her hand. This wasnt supposed to happen she says, teary eyed like a small child in my arms. This was the third time she had said this. What? I ask her. I was supposed to die in that quarry, I was supposed to fucking die. She stumbles to her counter to crush up some pills, carefully curls up a dollar bill and all the little white dust sweeps itself inside her head now, Relaxes her weary soul. I know her pain, I can feel it like we are Siamese twins connected at the heart.
Your saint-like face and your ghost like soul, Who among them do you think could destroy you? Sad-eyed lady of the low lands
I watch the tears fall. Tears of a thousand years of rape, abuse, and mutilation. I watch her as she says again and again that she wishes she was dead and somehow I wonder if she already is.
sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
I love you guys, thanks for wishing me well at court. Basically they just gave me another court date, Hopefully they will lower it down to disorderly conduct, if not maybe a few weeks in jail, but nothing that a girl like me can't handle.
My dreams speak to me in tongues with my head on her shoulder, that english prostitute with the glass eye. we rode together, that whole lonely night with handcuffs on, and outside all the stars were dying. As of recently all of my dreams have been apocolyptic. So where to go from here? stay in this city surrounded by these C list celebrities feeding me sugary lies. Bob Dylan is my constant soundtrack. I have been watching angels die since i was a little girl. First was my mother, Most recently is a girl i think i love a little too much, Her spanish accent breaks my heart. Her, a philosiphy scholar living in sin wondering if the heavens will forgive her, I told her that they already do. Are we all puppets in this game? I long to speak to my old lovers, lost in the chaos of mexico and california, Lost in the chaos of a past i wish i could crawl back to, naked and shaking on my knees.
Now, All i want to do is dream, That was what the opiate needle was for, I just feel things so intensely and everyone around me is an apparent zombie wrapped up in a material world of bullshit. I just didn't want to feel, and he turned to me and called me an "empath", He said it can be a lonely world when theres so very few of us. I wish for my dead road dog to sing me to sleep, "Maybe one breathe away, I'll find the words to say.", I can wish all night but reality will always set in, still its cold, Still nothing grows and beatiful demons come whisper obscenities in my ear, to go reach for that telephone number of my puerto rican gangster with all of his gun shot wounds, crumpled in a garbage can somewhere and ask him to sell me some of my ex lover/poison, My veins are thirsty but my mind is strong, and all the angels that have died before me know just what the answer is: Sleep.
Love, Lily
P.s. I have court tomorrow, cross your fingers for me
Now, All i want to do is dream, That was what the opiate needle was for, I just feel things so intensely and everyone around me is an apparent zombie wrapped up in a material world of bullshit. I just didn't want to feel, and he turned to me and called me an "empath", He said it can be a lonely world when theres so very few of us. I wish for my dead road dog to sing me to sleep, "Maybe one breathe away, I'll find the words to say.", I can wish all night but reality will always set in, still its cold, Still nothing grows and beatiful demons come whisper obscenities in my ear, to go reach for that telephone number of my puerto rican gangster with all of his gun shot wounds, crumpled in a garbage can somewhere and ask him to sell me some of my ex lover/poison, My veins are thirsty but my mind is strong, and all the angels that have died before me know just what the answer is: Sleep.
Love, Lily
P.s. I have court tomorrow, cross your fingers for me
beautiful dominican princess, we brke simultaneously, pieces remained, but it's at that very point that there is all the possibility in the world. I love you did jar."She was born in spring, and I was born too late, Blame it on a simple twist of fate."
So many more words to come, I promise.
I love you all and hope your new year was beautiful and full of magic, I know mine was.
My birthday is tomorrow. I have a wish list if you feel so inclined!
Love, Lily
So many more words to come, I promise.
I love you all and hope your new year was beautiful and full of magic, I know mine was.
My birthday is tomorrow. I have a wish list if you feel so inclined!
Love, Lily
It creeps up real slow like dope-sick vomit rising in your mouth and you look around and nothing makes sense and nothing ever really did, I can't write because i can't express this thought the way i want to. I tried to express it the other night and just ended up in the emergency room choking on charcoal and my own vomit, Opened my red eyes and thought, is this hell? sure looks like it and there was an AIDS patient scratching her skin off through the other curtain, scratching until she saw blood, and for that one moment when she looked up at me it was like we were sisters in a past life and were connected through this intense energy that died as soon as it was born and then she just kept scratching, digging her fingernails deep into her decaying flesh. and if i could have spoken, I would have told her she was beautiful, and if i had a shot-gun i would have shared it with her. I had a dream and i'm going to mexico.
Lil
Lil
