- Go and check out the beautiful sexy electricity of Mercedes new set and fall in love and leave my girlfriend a comment, That's right, I called her my girlfriend!.......(in my dreams, that is)
- If you haven't commented or read my interview already. please go do so. Burk Sauls of the west memphis three support group. It's a cause that I'm whole-heartedly behind so I was cery happy when it got published.
Friday
Moments become fleeting at times like these. I forget where I was just that I had to get the fuck out. My homegirl and I were playing strippers with full on personas. With names like "Tiffany" and "Stephanie"Wholesome and makes you want to vomit and that's what I was doing, face to face with the porcelain god, unleashing bile. She started the dance, sexy in her stilettos. The race I couldn't beat having never danced without a pole to swing down all sexy and upside down. All I could think of was my ghost husband and how he would have disapproved but the liquor poisons rational thought and before I knew It, I was abandoning my high heels to go flirt with every sorority girl and frat boy in sight because fuck it. I'm the commodity tonight. Watch me entertain you with the tricks up my sleeve, sideshow freak, with makeup on to cover the track marks that haven't faded over time and slight imperfections that I love. The bruises and scars that got me this far, but frat boy doesn't want to see that. He wants tits in his face and lipstick kisses. . He wants to see some tricks and I was never good in High-Heels so when my partner in crime for tonight is sitting on his chest. I seductively take off his pants and empty his wallet and there's this girl, Asian, small and fragile like a china-doll, she's giving me the eye and her eyes are full of adventure and she say's "Girl, you're beautiful, you don't have to take your clothes off for nobody" and I tell china doll that I'm a survivalist and I don't work for minimum wage. She kisses my cheek and in this moment of curled passion, I think she's the one for me but all my lovers flee. I'm the queen of driving them away with mania or depression or I can't commit because the future is always uncertain. So here I am in the circus sideshow alone, walking around the party asking for drags of cigarettes and drinks of liquor. Yeah, that's right, I'm a high class ho.
Tuesday
I remember the drowning, waking up in a whirl of suicidal loneliness where the stardust never sleeps and the tweekers with maps and plans unite to steal car stereos.
It was so hot and lonely and I uncovered the layers of blankets wrapped around me, sticky with sweat and the candy smell of crack smoke was ubiquitous. I stumbled to open a door, anywhere. The smell turns to cigarettes and I guess your sense of smell is off when you are sickly. I rise too fast and collapse. I get shuttled to the windowless hell of the emergency room and this modern day "god" is searching for a vein. Poking the needle around, tearing at muscle and veins I blew back in the day when I could find god in a syringe. Those days are over but not forgotten, especially at moments like these. I am the princess of my own trash heap.
"Girl, you are too young to already have done this much damage"
He keeps poking, blood hungry and impatient. When he is done I will look like a real fiend.
"No shit, Man, Why do you think I quit dope."
Laughter on the other side of the curtain. I didn't know there was another patient behind the cotton. He's a fag superstar with a Mohawk and tattoos that read life and death on his forehead. He coughs up a lung when he laughs but still we keep laughing, cause sometimes laughing is the only cure, so we keep at it and when god leaves he pulls back the curtain more and there's oceans in his eyes. So much life for a dying boy. Together we are too much life for this sterile hospital playground with I.V.'s in our veins.
They always put the AIDS victims next to me in hospital and they are always the most fun with a bad attitude and nothing to lose.
Sleepy eyed angel boy was pale as a ghost, for a minute I thought he was a ghost, in my imaginary land of junk. I have junkyards the size of wal-marts and look at all the treasures I found, all the shit you threw away. Death princess was no exception. Colorful and laughing, brightens up the fucked up. He caught the virus through "blood sports" in Europe. Him and his man are traveling cross-country till they find something they are looking for. They don't know what that is yet. Neither do I, princess, neither do I......
Yes, That's my cunt I'm covering. Live Free Baby.
I'm sick. Hopefully a few days rest will bring me to rebirth.
also, a sad song for Benni , You never know which ones on this path to self destruction will survive. So I'll just remember her for the girl that held me when I cried and was a beautiful writer. Let's all give Xaqary a :kiss. He was real close to her.
xo, Lily:
- If you haven't commented or read my interview already. please go do so. Burk Sauls of the west memphis three support group. It's a cause that I'm whole-heartedly behind so I was cery happy when it got published.
Friday
Moments become fleeting at times like these. I forget where I was just that I had to get the fuck out. My homegirl and I were playing strippers with full on personas. With names like "Tiffany" and "Stephanie"Wholesome and makes you want to vomit and that's what I was doing, face to face with the porcelain god, unleashing bile. She started the dance, sexy in her stilettos. The race I couldn't beat having never danced without a pole to swing down all sexy and upside down. All I could think of was my ghost husband and how he would have disapproved but the liquor poisons rational thought and before I knew It, I was abandoning my high heels to go flirt with every sorority girl and frat boy in sight because fuck it. I'm the commodity tonight. Watch me entertain you with the tricks up my sleeve, sideshow freak, with makeup on to cover the track marks that haven't faded over time and slight imperfections that I love. The bruises and scars that got me this far, but frat boy doesn't want to see that. He wants tits in his face and lipstick kisses. . He wants to see some tricks and I was never good in High-Heels so when my partner in crime for tonight is sitting on his chest. I seductively take off his pants and empty his wallet and there's this girl, Asian, small and fragile like a china-doll, she's giving me the eye and her eyes are full of adventure and she say's "Girl, you're beautiful, you don't have to take your clothes off for nobody" and I tell china doll that I'm a survivalist and I don't work for minimum wage. She kisses my cheek and in this moment of curled passion, I think she's the one for me but all my lovers flee. I'm the queen of driving them away with mania or depression or I can't commit because the future is always uncertain. So here I am in the circus sideshow alone, walking around the party asking for drags of cigarettes and drinks of liquor. Yeah, that's right, I'm a high class ho.
Tuesday
I remember the drowning, waking up in a whirl of suicidal loneliness where the stardust never sleeps and the tweekers with maps and plans unite to steal car stereos.
It was so hot and lonely and I uncovered the layers of blankets wrapped around me, sticky with sweat and the candy smell of crack smoke was ubiquitous. I stumbled to open a door, anywhere. The smell turns to cigarettes and I guess your sense of smell is off when you are sickly. I rise too fast and collapse. I get shuttled to the windowless hell of the emergency room and this modern day "god" is searching for a vein. Poking the needle around, tearing at muscle and veins I blew back in the day when I could find god in a syringe. Those days are over but not forgotten, especially at moments like these. I am the princess of my own trash heap.
"Girl, you are too young to already have done this much damage"
He keeps poking, blood hungry and impatient. When he is done I will look like a real fiend.
"No shit, Man, Why do you think I quit dope."
Laughter on the other side of the curtain. I didn't know there was another patient behind the cotton. He's a fag superstar with a Mohawk and tattoos that read life and death on his forehead. He coughs up a lung when he laughs but still we keep laughing, cause sometimes laughing is the only cure, so we keep at it and when god leaves he pulls back the curtain more and there's oceans in his eyes. So much life for a dying boy. Together we are too much life for this sterile hospital playground with I.V.'s in our veins.
They always put the AIDS victims next to me in hospital and they are always the most fun with a bad attitude and nothing to lose.
Sleepy eyed angel boy was pale as a ghost, for a minute I thought he was a ghost, in my imaginary land of junk. I have junkyards the size of wal-marts and look at all the treasures I found, all the shit you threw away. Death princess was no exception. Colorful and laughing, brightens up the fucked up. He caught the virus through "blood sports" in Europe. Him and his man are traveling cross-country till they find something they are looking for. They don't know what that is yet. Neither do I, princess, neither do I......
Yes, That's my cunt I'm covering. Live Free Baby.
I'm sick. Hopefully a few days rest will bring me to rebirth.
also, a sad song for Benni , You never know which ones on this path to self destruction will survive. So I'll just remember her for the girl that held me when I cried and was a beautiful writer. Let's all give Xaqary a :kiss. He was real close to her.
xo, Lily:
VIEW 25 of 45 COMMENTS
glassheart:
i wish you were coming to prom.
belljar:
*kiss* yourself, beautiful.