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Everything written by Becky M. S.

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beckyms1213
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July 11th, 2007

July Poetry 2007 Part 2

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July Poetry 
Becky M. S. 
Copyrighted 2007

Smoky Death
 
She sat in the small bathroom
With two lighter
And a box of cigs
This is her story
This is what she did
 
She was not the prettiest
Or the very best
She never stuck out
From any of the rest
 
She was attractive
But she was a bitch to all
She thought one person knew her
But that was her fall
 
He was between relationships
And she was joke
He got her for the sex
He even got her to smoke
 
She thought he really loved her
But it was all a lie
He never cared for her
Even when she cried
 
Her only physical memory
Of him was the smoke
By her 12th cigarette
She started to choke
 
She wasn’t going to quit
Not when it was her fault
Smoking was just all her wounds
Covered deep in salt
 
He said he loved her
And she truly believed
But then he completely hurt her
She was totally deceived
 
She cut herself by his exact words
As it was what he wanted
Now’s he’s getting married to someone else
And she feels he’s taught it
 
So now it’s all gone
No one left in her life
To stop all of her pain
To call all of her strife
 
The air is gone
The love is not there
She is dead
And no one cared!
Heartache
 
Darkness
Hatred
Fear
Lust
Pain
Shadows
Games
Regret
Disgust
Pain
Hopelessness
Cuts
Blood
Force
Lies
Strain
Fuck
Depression
Sex
Fake
Words
Tears
Sobs
Death
Thoughts
Chocolate
Worthless
Useless
Alcohol
Realization
Memories
All
Alone

July Poetry 2007 Part 1

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July Poetry
Becky M.S.
© 2007
 
7/3/2007
 
 
Empty Skeptic
 
Like bottle with no beer
I feel empty inside
Like a skeptic
With nothing to hide
 
Nothing feels right anymore
Did he ever care?
I just need to know the truth
So I can more from here.
 
Argue
 
I argue
With myself
With a piece of me
Begging for
One moment
Of collective peace
All I can do is scream
 
Frustrations
Are calling
My names
Friends
(That’s what they call my selves)
My calling my name
In a fake voice
Of the purest deception
That I thought
At one point in my life
I truly knew myself.
All was false
 
Time is hill
Time is a space
Time is a drain
Allowing life
To fall in
A spiraling motion . . .
 
I just want it
To stop
Let me find
My own career
A car and a place
In an exciting city
May all of our
Dreams come true. . .
 
Then I woke up to realize. . .
The dreams will come true
For everyone else
But me.
 
Worship
 
Note after note
Bring a love
As it engulfs
Bringing one to its
Goosebumps
And emotional ways
 
It also brings
Hate
No charge
Fights within one’s soul
Don’t cry
Don’t weep
Don’t express these feelings now
 
Worship
Pulls in souls
Even with fighting
The frustrations,
And annoyances
 
Everything just stops
STOPS!
Stop playing
Just bring silence
Crush the holy embrace
I don’t want to be hug by cloud
Right now
 
Except in the silence
They began to pray
ERRRRR!
I don’t wan to this anymore
I don’t want to fight. . .
I just want it to stop.
I’m on strike!
 
Grey Blood
 
Smoke
Smoky air
Chokes my lung
Stings through my veins
Allows me to
Constantly taste him
For that one second
I am with him again
While he’s with someone else
I have his smoky spirit
The grey blood of the past
That haunts me in my dreams
It reminds me if him
Every time I smell smoke
Especially when I taste the smoke. . .
I know he is with someone else
But for me
I am the fat bitchy nobody
Smoke alone
Wondering if he
Really loved me?
 
Smoky Sticks
 
A stick that falls lifeless
And dies
Just like me in away—
A worthless lie
 
I inhale
And I still cough
I do breathe in
Even if it turns me off
 
I am fucked
A useless joke
Inhale some more smoke
Hopefully I’ll choke
 
An illness I am
As cancer I’ll become
Full of hate and cum
I wish I was completely numb
Just to let everyone just run.
 
 
Letting Go (dedicated to an old flame. Adam)
 
I'll never forget you
And everything thing we had done
But no you're going on
I have to say Thank you, hun.
 
If I could
I would bring the world
But time as past
And you found another girl
 
I hope she is as sweet
And she is mind
I'm glad your hearts
Are lovely intertwined
 
You were my first love
And I just want you to know
I hope you'll always be happy
And now I have to let you go.

June Poetry Part 2

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June Poetry
Becky M.S.
© 2007
I Try
 
I try to please him
I want to make him proud
But all in all
I’m just an ear for another
Uninspiring lecture
A disappointment
 
Find a job
So I find a job
But it wasn’t
The job he wanted me to have
 
Get a car
So I found a car
But the car didn’t work
The way he wanted
 
Get a man
So I got a man
Just like him
And then I left the man
 
As I accomplish
These stepping stones
I realize
I need to do
These things
For me
Not him
 
I got a good job
I got a car
And I will eventually
Get a good guy
A nice house
And awesome life
And the best part of it
It’s all mine . . .
All I can say is . . .
I tried.
 
Haunted
 
I wrote it
Feelings released
Almost done
Almost ended
So close to
The finish line
 
And yet
Like an short orgasm
Unfinished
I stop before
I climax
Before I was satisfied
I killed it
I was almost done
Over half completed
Closer to the end
Than the beginning
 
Then there was
A twist in conflict
A turn in the plot
A person in my life
Who made me turn around?
Screw up on an impulse
A false religious notion
A mental lapse
Made me
Lose all my work
To the trash can
I lost months
For a kid
Who wasn’t even a man
Yet . . .
 
The same person
Who makes fun
Of an orgasm
Even before he truly had one
Who wants a oxymoron for a life
But has no idea what life really is
He wants money
And a family . . . (ha, Ha)
 
He acted like he cared
But now I’m all alone
With no one
And no work
No story
And it haunts me
 
It haunts me . . .
The story replays
Over in my head
Over and over
I just do not
Believe I will
Ever write it as well as
The Original
Nothing is ever better than the original.
Damn it!
 
The story
Plays in my head
Over and over again
I am being haunted
By my own work
And my own past
I am just being haunted!
 
Faded False Things
 
False things
Surround me
Hope fades
Light down
Draining all in all
Everything is quiet.
 
Twisted words
Prayers never heard
And never acknowledge
All those you seek
Are all gone
Never there when
You need them . . .
All is gone
When?
 
Time changes
Same place
Trying to corrupt
Old and stale feelings
Time flies
Bringing Nostalgia
 
Come
Brain washed followers
Believers
Sing again
Fall to your knees
Full body weight
Crush the bone
To worship a suffering deity
Give all just to
Change back again.
 
Why should I?
 
Brainwashed
Time ticks . . .
Let unseen power
Take over
 
What if I believe
For one second?
But to find out
It’s all fake—
A hoax,
A very sick thing
Just another reason
To call me a joke?
 
Why cave into
Something unseen
For nothing
To happen now?
 
If you were
A really merciful
Superior deity
Than you should have
Taken away all
Pain and suffering
And most for heartache
 
Why should I
Believe in something
That allows
Me to suffer?
 

June Poetry Part 1

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June Poetry
Becky M.S.
© 2007
 
6/23/2007
Direction of down
 
Different direction
All pull me down
Like roller coasters
Without a track
I’m falling
In a fearful ride
Centered hate
Fed with fear and loneliness
It’s not the first time. .. .
I hate life.
 
Demented Twist
 
Everyone wanted me to do
Everything
A least it was
Just negative attention
That kept me going
In the twisted
Lime light
Everyone’s everything
Sounds good,
Eventually wastes away
To be purposefully sucked dry
And dry out
Any innocence
From a demented soul
All ends are just. 
 
Empty Work for a Nothing
 
You are nothing.
I am you.
I am nothing.
Even the garbage pit
Won’t hire you
Work in the oil
Work with the grease
Work with the monsters
That killed your past
And haunt your dreams
Let the oil and grease
Kill your beauty
You are ugly!
 
You are nothing . . .
Just a guilty liar
Just a fat bitch
You will never feel whole
Why try?
No one will hire you;
You are wrong.
You are a criminal.
You did it—you did it!
Even if you did not do it,
Who would believe you anyway?
It is your entire fault.
You fucked up . . . he’s free.
 
The corrupted juvenile
Is better then you.
You are a native screw up.
He can get a job in the snap
You can’t even get through an interview
You are pathetic!
Who do you think you are?
You are nothing.
You are a bum.
 
You are nothing.
You deserve nothing.
You will never be socially accepted.
Give it up.
Get over it.
Just go away!
 
 
All is darkness
 
Frustration
Hate
Hopelessness
False acceptance
False passion
Stress
Fatness
Blame
Guilt
Ugliness
“It’s all your fault!”
“You did it”
“You’re lying.”
Bitterness
Bitchiness
Abuse
Strain
Anger
Pain
Rage
No water
No Light
Coldness
Darkness
It is all that is left of me.
 
Give it up
 
It’s all your fault
You deserve nothing
You’ll never be accepted
Give it up
Give it all up
Get over it
You’re ugly
You’re fat
You’re a fat bitch
Torture is all
You’re going to get
It’s all you’ll
Ever deserve
To get screwed over
Give it up
End it all
It will never happen!
 
 
He
 
Tears me into
Guilt and Fear
Chocolate covered worry
Waiting in the car
He skulled me
Accused me of
Nothing truly proven
But all is my fault
I am guilty of it all
I pray for isolation
But that is folded up
Under a seat
And under a chain saw
Smoother in a minivan
Sliced with regret
Of just being there
It’s my fault—completely my fault
You gave them . . .
Nothing
A computer virus
A computer worm
Bring out its self-destruct button
BOOM!
Gone
I wish
Problem solved It’s all me
But it’s still
Nothing they can prove
 
Empty Trash
 
I am
A worthless
Piece of weak
Used shit
Life cycle
As follows
Stress
Horny
Eye closed
Teeth clenched
Fast fuck
Thrown out
No emotion
No trust
No names
No hope
No friend
No pure desire
Just lust
Animal lust
 
I want
To slice away
All of my inferiorities
Use me
Throw me away
I feel lifeless
Let me be numb
No feeling
Thrown in trash
Clean off with acid
To clean physical
Elements
Not emotional murdered pain
I am a hopeless case
I am nothing
Like a dirty diaper
I am thrown a side
Gone
Never to be heard from again
Frustration
Exists in
An empty soul
All is unwell.

April 17th, 2007

Anothe poem

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More than a Dream
To Chris
By Becky MS

This time with you is amazing
It seesm like a dream
You make me feel so special-
So loved
Please be more than just misty streams

Love me forever
Or leave me now
As I take all or nothing
And I can't believe I'm here now

If this a dream
Please don't wake me up
Let me sleep a smile on my face
and content as fuzzy pup

If this reality
Then please don't let me lose you
It's so much like a dream
And you're one of a kind
And moments like these are few
Please don't let me lose.

Thank you Jesus
For this gift
You watch over me
And always give me a lift

March 28th, 2007

Tears

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Tears of rages
Tear of hope
Tears of regret
Tears of pity
Tear of less vs best

Drain out of me
Pulling my emotions
Prolonging my smiles
Expaning my fears

Creating the woman within me
Making me human
Filling my stressful cracks
Tension propelling

Washing me away
Making me new

November 25th, 2006

Right Now

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worthless
and
meaningless
and
fat
and
ugly
and
gone
and
depressed
and
ending
and
sad
and
mad
and
hopeless
and
there . . .
just there . . .
Right now

October 7th, 2006

October Poetry Part 1

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Telephone Insults

The enemy called to chat with her brother
He is only trouble
She asked,
"Who is this?"
He got annoyed
She had forgotten his voice
She did that on purpose
She wanted the scoundrel out of her city
And out of her life
"Why was he calling her house?"
"What in hell did he want with her brother?"
She mumbles,
"The bastard is on the phone,"
"The person who got me into trouble . . ."
She hands the phone to her brother.
He hears the troublemaker call his sister a bitchy bastard
And then her brother ends the insult with a click.
Why can't the delinquent just leave her alone? 

Becky M. S. Written 10/7/2006

October Poetry 3

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Transferable Pain

Once she was happy . . .
When his arms were wrapped around her,
When she felt the world could stop and disappear
Just because he was there.
Once she was happy . . .
When he would say,
"I love you."
Out of the blue.
Once she was happy . . .
When he would make her laugh
And smile
And blush
And feel good.
Once she was happy . . .
When she knew he was happy with her
When she did little things for him,
When she would brush her finger through his hair
Or rub his head or back.

One day the happiness stopped
When pain sunk in
At first it was just physical pain
It was just temporary release:
As it fades away with Tylenol
She faced the pain for him
As she felt
She was feeling it for the both of them

But the mental pain
Of feeling lost and alone
Stayed with her
Like a ghost haunting it's place of death.
In her weaken state,
She sacrificed her beliefs
Causing a chaos
And creating a questioning of why is she really here?
What is her purpose?
In fearing she would lose him,
She stopped all contact
With her friends of the opposite sex.

Mental pain ate through her
She began to hate the weaken melt clay,
She had begun.
She saw him less and less
As she was giving up more and more
Finally she stopped seeing him,
But the by then it was too late.
Pain had over come her
As she has created a sexual monster within him.
Pain created a beast within her.
She began biting herself for a release
And when that didn't work,
She took a simple blade
A slice a release with her flesh
Hoping to release her soul
Then another and another.

She claimed the cuts on her arms
Are from her pets,
But secretly she know
Each cut has passion, fear,
And a release of pain within them.
She just doesn't want to hurt anymore.


Cuts of Worthiness

Slice after slice
The blade hits her flesh
Blood drips
As pain is released
Stinging only comes in cleaning the wounds.
Marks down each arm
Regret and remorse in physical form.
Tear rain on the cheeks
As breast get marked next.
Whining as thighs stings
As flesh opens just so slightly.
She barely can get the blade to the skin
She barely can press in
As she doesn't want mortal wound,
A pain release.
She wants to be worthy of being happy again.


Becky M. S. All writings were written on 10/7/2006

October 4th, 2006

Smokey wounds

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I thought I knew who I was.
I thought I was strong.
I thought I knew what I wanted.
I thought I knew my hope and dreams and had goals to follow.
But then out of the blue . . .
He walked into my life
Now I'm running in circles
I'm not sure about my life.
I've realize I'm weak
And I can't win them all
I've learn to fail
But I still try not to fall.
With him I've done thing
I wouldn't normally do
And now I know
I'm smothering is smoky wounds.

October 3rd, 2006

October Poetry Part 2

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Echoes

 

Words come back

As emotions flood

The damn of an empty conclusion

The screen screams emotion

With no sound

An adulterated invitation

To bring to wounded souls

Back together

Salt falls away

As everything comes back

Like it was just yesterday.

Fears that she can't change

Fears that she give up

As she realizes she gives in

Only to know what she could lose again

If she doesn't give into his demands,

Is his gain worth losing herself?

She wants to see him at least once last time,

Hopefully more

She says,

"Yes, I'll give in."

As a piece of her soul

Deflates its strength.

 

 

The Visit

 

Few words pass

Small awkward moment

Slide by.

They park

As they move into action

Like many times before

Same car

Same place.

His kiss

Still made her knees buckle.

She is gentle at first,

Passion adds possession.

His gentleness is masked

With a soul-crushing mental pain.

His passion adds a physical pain.

He corrects it with pleasure.

She is weak under him.

He stops with a release.

He then just stops

As if to ponder,

What is he really doing there? 

A wish with in her soul

That time would stop

It ended as fast as it started.

A smoke cloud of sweet smoke

End the visit.

A few word are exchanged

With a small kiss.

 

Becky M. S. All Writings were written 10/3/2006

September 27th, 2006

Dated Writings

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Nothing but darkness

All is Blind
everything is pitch Black
she has closed eyes

She lies just so still
Just so quiet
Her voices are muted
As her personality fights it

What do they think?
What do they say?
The voices outside
Of her own little ways.

Do they love her?
Do they care?
Are they there for a reason?
Or are they just there?

Her lips are still
If only for this once
Just hear the voices
Her personality went to lunch

They want her to get better
They want her to be well
She can't do anything
She's in her own hell

She just wanted the truth
Even if she can't handle it
She wanted to know where she stands
So she can get on with it.

The darkness has help her
It has shown her the light
She knows the truth now
And now she can fight.


Salty stretching pain

Time worn away
Healing too hard
blind to the
damage I caused,
Until it was
Just too late.
I tasted him,
Tasted his salt.
Now I hurt
As the salt
Enters his wounds.
I am heartless.
I have failed.
I was blinded.
I couldn't erase
What I had
Nor be forgiven.
I can't forgive
the monster inside
Of my soul.
In a dream
He comes back
I just hope
It is real.
Can we please
Heal the wounds
Not cause them
Just to be
Salty Stretching pain.


Honest Thoughts: Tear Drops

My eyes are raining with joy, fear, confusion.
"I loved him, I've always loved him!"
Apart of me, just thought it would be hard for me to let him go, because he was my first love.
Another part of me was saying I was stupid in the first place for leaving him . . . and he'll never look at me the same way. I can understand that.
I fight myself. I hate myself for crying, because I did it to myself.
I honestly never thought I made him happy, then why didn't he ever come to see me more?
I wanted him to be happy that was my bottom line . . . that was always the bottom line. His happiness was the bottom line, even if I had to sacrifice everything that once was mine.
But I had hoped on every star he would hold me and say that's all he needed. Then he would tell me lets work on your dreams and my dreams together.
I thought with time that went by he would go find someone better than me and she would make him truly happy.
Then one moment out of the blue, he took my breath just like before. I didn't deserve that moment like I don't deserve this moment.
When I saw him the other day I was more nervous than the first day we meant . . . I knew what I could lose again. . . I'm not going to let it happen damn it!
Now there are tears of pure fear . . . and I need to stop . . . crying.


What have I done . . .

Lying on the couch
Small whisper from my mouth
To him on the phone
A whisper to a moan

A slip of one finger
Hide the ringer
He calls me once again
To his voice, I bend

I slide in two
It's just a few
They slide in so nice
I don't even think twice

Then add three
I'm now weak at the knees
I force harshly four
I'm not sure if I want any more

My skin stretches and pulls
My body fights as I tremble
Pain shoot around
I bite my lip feisty down

He encourages more and more
He wants me to be his whore
pulling and tearing skin
I realize I'm bleeding.

He wants it all
My inside is so raw
I try to force it all in
My body won't let me win

I push deeper and deeper
As my eye begin to tear
Blood rush past my palm
Now I'm not calm

He tried to calm me down
As he tell me to pull out
I just wanted him to be pleased
So I just seized.

As I go to sleep
Pure blood leaking from me
I'm sure if I'm truly sane
To allow myself all this pain. 

Becky M. S. Dated 9/27/2006

September 26th, 2006

Mixed thoughts: Sometimes

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Sometimes I want to go in a coma, and hear the truth of who cares about me and who is just pretending . . . I want to know what people really think of me.

Sometimes I sit in the darkness, praying that there is no more light so no one can see me. . . or if light should come that I may be invisible.

Sometimes I want to bash my head into a mirror instead of look at it, because I hate the person in the reflection . . . thinking she is having the best time in her perfect world.

Sometimes I want to shoot myself just to know what real pain feels like. . . not death, but just pain.

Sometimes I want to take a car and just drive . . . no directions . . . no destination just me and the road.

Sometimes I want to be the famous, well like person who everyone envies and wished they can be. . . accomplishing all my dreams, making money, and looking great.

Sometimes I wish I had the strength to stand up for me and not just those weaker around me. . . defend who I am, except I am the weakness person I know.

Sometimes I just wish I knew who I was . . . who I am.

Within the depths of my soul

September 25th, 2006

Rated R

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Levels of attraction

Let me explain some backround first . . . I believe in a three different type of attraction
 60% I believe in an emotion/psychologial attraction: how well do our personalities get along, because in the end that what we'll have to live with. Can we laugh about life?  Do we have similar back rounds?
30% I believe in intellect attraction: Well, we be able to learn off each other and can we have more conversations than just what the weather is doing.
10% I believe in a physical attraction: I have see you yet, but from I hear you sound very attrctive. I do like clean cut. I would appreciate a pic if you can manage one. The only reason why I have physical attraction is because if I'm physically actracted to the guy, it kind of brings up my self esteem. ( It's complicated.)

My ideas of sex

            I have to admit I love the feeling of sex and the function that the human body goes through during sex. (Its better than any drug related high youre ever going to get.) Ive realized that there are differences in just having sex and making love . . . Emotions makes everything more intense, saving yourself for one person make once you the one  make the whole experience even more special, being with someone who accept you for who you are make sex more than just a physical combustion, but a sacred experience. I love the feeling of body weight on top of me putting pressure on many different points of my body. I also love making my man moan, because when he response I know I did something right or at least something pleasurable to him. The one thing I dont like is when the guy exits, first of all cum gets really cold really fast. Ive also heard women say, thats when they feel empty. I realize why most women feel empty, because they dont have love to feel the void.

August 31st, 2006

August Poety Part 7

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Secret Speculations

 

She sits at the creek

And wonders:

What is he doing?

Is he happy?

Has he found someone else?

She remembers kissing the stranger

Introduced by a friend who

Thought they knew her—

they did not know her at all.

The kiss was nothing . . .

There was nothing.

Tears fall as reality hit her . . .

She lost him.

The only thing she could do now is . . .

Pray

Hope

Wish on every star that he'll find happiness.

All she ever wanted was for him to be happy.

Becky M. S. written 8/31/2006

August 26th, 2006

August Poetry Part 6

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Pieces of Her

 

She was always a special person

She always tried to put other before herself

She had hopes and dreams

She had morals and beliefs

And now all is a pile of chaos

Like a tangled ball of yarn

She gave herself away

She turn against her friends

To please him

And now she's alone.

She left him, because she hated herself.

She was confused:

How she could hate herself, but love him?

How could she ever treat him well,

If she hurt herself?

How she could she ever make him happy,

If happiness to her was an illusion?

How could she tell him to give up anything,

When she didn't want to give anything?

How could he love her when she was weak,

When she wasn't herself?

She stood in confusion . . .

Looking for all the piece of her

To make her whole again

As she realized,

He still had the most important thing . . .

Her heart.

 

 

Smokey Taste

 

The bud rolled on her lips

The flavored, hazy air

Filled her mouth

And flew out

A discolored cloud

Of a grayish black

The same color of her heart currently

Her tongue tasted the misty drag

As she thought of him

She closes her eyes as she inhaled

She remembered the way he normally tasted

When she kissed him.

And then sighed as she flicked the ashes

As soon as the cigarette was finish

She would close her mouth to see how long

She can still taste him

Just so she can remember.

Becky M. S. All Writings were written 8/26/2006

August 22nd, 2006

August Poetry Part 5

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Regretful Frustrations

 

A letter was written

Depression hits hard

As life goes on . . .

And time goes on . . .

Court ended

Bring a conclusion:

No mood changing liquids

And no mind altering drugs

Are allowed.

And she must keep busy with school and work.

Friends offer to go out,

She declines.

She thinks of him,

And condemns herself

As she ponders . . .

Exactly why she did what she did?

She honestly thought

She didn't make him happy as . . .

He stopped visiting her.

He didn't want her to visit him.

He didn't want her to call. (Call as much)

And he stopped saying,

"I love you."

She thought he found someone else

To enlighten his fancy,

To challenge his intelligence,

To steal his heart,

To borrow his time,

Since she didn't speak with him as much

Her imagination took the worst in her,

And created a letter with an wrongful impulse.

An impulse now she regrets.

Now she stands alone in frustrating regret

As she regrets her imaginative frustration.

August 21st, 2006

August Poetry Part 4

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False Acceptance

 

If for a few moments

A few nobodies made her feel

Like a somebody,

Then emotion has stabbed and twisted

All logical and moral ideas

Left in a harsh reality.

And any hope that honesty and belief

Would conquer has been lost

In the scrolls along with

The gullible souls

That only knew who they were

By a book written by something

For humans to blame when they were worried.

 

 

Addictions of Acceptance

 

Once in:

It's hard to get out.

And once the mind has wrongly focused:

Anything that doesn't work is completely gone—out!

As morals are washed with dirty water,

As guilty acts are asked and accomplished . . .

All is lost.

There are no laws covering acceptance

Except harsh notifications of illegal suggestions always done.

It is always done for the sake of the acceptation.

It's a cycle—it doesn't stop!

 

 

Blank Truth

 

She did things she didn't like.

She wanted acceptation.

The more things she did,

The more she believed the lies they fed her.

The lies were fed with a silver spoon.

She did things:

Like giving to the number

Believing they all backed her

Except they all ran

When the lights showed

The true colors: blue and red.

As the light cornered her

In tears of false acceptance

Caused the authority to laugh.

No trust is left in the truth!

 

 

Authority Disillusion

 

Two males supposed to have respected her . . .

Supposed to have listened to her story:

All is lost

As they call her a lair

In the mist of the truth.

By believing the lying numbers

They corner her . . . 

In an enclosing room:

Getting smaller and smaller.

As her eyes rain

Wishing for an acceptance of her truth

And not to believe

The deceiving demons with flesh,

She knows:

This isn't a honest girl's world.

She takes punishment for demon's crimes.

She also learns not to trust . . . anyone!

(Anyone good or bad!)

They'll all deceive her,

And they'll all leave her . . . cold and alone!

As they blame her

For everything wrong.

They are right.

She is wrong.

Badges are good.

She is bad.

She is a honest whore.

She is a stupid bitch.

She is a damn tease.

She is a plain nothing.

She is the one

Who deserves all the blame!

All because she wanted to be accepted.

Sorry!

 

 

Media Blast

 

They know . . .

She was gone:

Tell more people

Don't lie—break the truth!

Blame it all on her

Make it a conspiracy

Let people think

The badges are doing something

Who would care if it effects her future.

She'll be a fat nothing her whole life.

TV says,

"She's a horrible person."

As they plaster her ugly picture.

Papers tell everyone,

"She's the bad girl."

Attention businesses:

Don't hire her.

She'll steal

She'll hurt your friends.

Church people

Don't let her in:

She works with Satan.

It's all lies.

They never kept the story straight.

Even though it's all lies:

Media ruins a girl

So the badges look good

And get the damn holiday ham.

 

 

Paranoid Depression

 

She left to come

To a different world

No one looks at her the same:

"What did you do?"

Whispered among the questioning citizens.

Threats were common.

(Why threaten a girl who wouldn't want to harm anyone?)

She was home bound by fear.

Fear of the stares and questions:

"Why did you do it?"

Echoing questions,

Echoing blame.

Blame ran high

Flowing from a false media,

Which had defeated

A weaponless, honest girl.

A corrupt society ruined yet another young soul.

Does happiness truly come by making something else depressed?

 

 

Darkness Waiting

 

A cold, dirty bath:

Of regret,

Of questioning

And of a society where innocence is jailed,

While the guilty go free.

(If you have the right numbers.)

There is no moral.

As time flies by—only in a perfect world.

Now she's just in a pre-hell

As she sits and waits:

Like a waiting room

For the worst shot in her life.

And it's not a drug—

It's a punishment.

A punishment for a corrupt honesty.



Delusional Supporter

 

She needed support—

Encouragement—

Love.

He said what she needed to hear.

He made false promises,

She gave up herself momentarily.

He gave her scars

She gave him

Her beliefs in trade

For a manipulating support.

She was gullible

And her heart never fully recovered.

She left him . . .

As she was confused over everything:

From morals to logic

From Emotions to beliefs

All was chaos.

She'll never be as sweet as she was—

All is lost!

 

 

Cold Song

 

Morals fall like pennies

In a dark fountain

Just to disappear into the darkness

Lust and greed conquer all innocence.

Confusion strangles all hope.

Desperation falls over harden souls,

And grows in illegal activity:

No right

No wrong

No way to goodness

No way to evil

When a soul just stands there.

No fight

No struggle

When morals are in the way.

Just a clear path

To destroy a soul.

Society is proud—

Too proud—

Of the wrongful accomplishment.

Minor chords lightly strum

As a cold, sad song is played—

For the death of innocence

Is wept by angels looking below.

Becky M.S. All Writings were written 8/21/2006

Depression

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Have you ever felt the whole world has closed all the doors and windows, turned off all the lights, and tried to sufacate you with it's total darkness? It tried to drown you with pity, stress, hate, fear, hopelessness, and another other weakness it has one you? It tries to make you think responsiblity is only a horrible nightmare, and if you were to die you never have to worry again? It sounds too good to be true, and believe me it is. 

No matter how many times I go to sleep praying not to wake up, I always wake up. I usually look back and realize tomorrow really is another day, (and even though the depression still lingers) I can always make it better than the day before. 

But what exactly am I looking for? What exactly do I want accomplish in my life? Why the Hell am I truly here? Why can I remember the pain, the rejections, the gut busting forgetfulness of drunken cute guys, the kiss that felt like a dream, the alcohol gone in minutes, the many times pills just gave me numbness that in the long run slowly tear up my organs? 

And yet I still wake up from all this terror, from all this internal bleeding horror. I wake up to "Babysit them," "watch her," "I need a nap," "I'm fine *with tears down their eyes,*" "Work with me, (so he can watch my every move and tell me how to live my God damn life!"

Can I go in a hole and desire the darkness to swallow me whole? At least then I won't be rejected, or told what to do, or cry myself to sleep, or take medicine after medcine hoping to sleep and not wake up. 

Now am I depressed? Nah, Just venting!

August 20th, 2006

August Poetry Part 3

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Time Smothering

 

Time moves over her soul

Corroding her morals

Like glass on a sandy beach . . .

No more guilt

No more peace

Just emotional turmoil.

As goals don't change,

But the innocence behind them does.

Empty time of no right or wrong

Steals prayers

As demons laugh

For their quest is complete

In boredom of empty time.

Empty time smothers

All right ideas

Leaving wounds

Of all the mistakes

Causing only sinful regret.

Becky M. S. Written 8/20/2006

August 17th, 2006

August Poetry Part 2

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Immortality

 

For a moment if only that long,

She felt . . .

She could defy all laws

And prove all dead souls wrong.

Her soul weeps

As her hormones leave her shocked . . .

A real corpse.

She was tired, but her body still going on.

Morals were for from

No actual thought

No pressured gravity.

In her false reality,

No emotion or idea

Filters correctly.

Immorality is confusion.

 

 

Irrational Burning

 

Blessed building of brainwashing power

Smiles plastered on holy masks

A few lives stolen.

A few souls corrupted.

Time is wasted as a false fire of an irrational lie

That sin causes instant death—No!

Not death . . .

But instant change to an ever changing, polluted reality.

Pure fear causes irrational fire of unclean, gullible souls.

No one knows any different

As it is washed away by society.

Becky M. S. All Writings were written 8/17/2006

August 14th, 2006

August Poetry Part 1

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The Beginning

 

It started a year ago . . .

With a laugh,

Deceiving words of encouragement,

The promise of not getting caught,

And the morals fighting the hormones.

Two kids at a creek of

Different ages

Different live styles

Different clicks

Different moral issues.

Innocence had been broken by a wrongful kiss.

Innocence had been washed away by a swallow.

Corruption cracks the moral foundation.

A longing still lingers in the shadows.

 

 

Deception

 

A whisper follows in action

Law defies age.

And fun defies law.

A pure rush is apart of the thrill.

Emotion is far from the immature boy

For it races in the woman's head.

She just wanted to be accepted . . .

Just to be loved.

He just wanted a momentarily stress release.
To him, she was just another trophy of pureness . . .

To be destroyed . . .

A fat, ugly trophy

(That doesn't matter, just use a pillow)

She was tight and untouched.

He made her feel momentarily accepted (a fake acceptance) . . .

Just to take advantage of her tightest in the pure deception.

Taking over the little trust she had . . . she ever had.

All she ever had was a little trust  . . .

And now it was all gone.

Deception killed her:

Innocence

Purity

Childhood

Freedom

Heart.

All of it was a decoy.

 

 

Doubting No's

 

Fake encouragement flowed from his mouth.

She wanted to be accepted, and loved.

She wanted the same thing

Everyone else was talking about.

He ask if she wanted to . . .

She said no in her weaken, drunken state.

She wasn't sure if he was the one

She truly wanted to share this with.

He tried to talk her down.

She said no again.

Blurred memories follow

As blackness is created by a pillow

He didn't want to see her face.

A pitching pain followed in a private area.

Scared, she secretly cried.

She was truly confused.

Is it okay to let the hormones take over?

A few more motions happen

Her body was in a wave of unacceptable indulgence

A sudden stop . . .

He stands up.

She feels cold and alone.

 

 

The Look

 

Brown eyes of youth and a wild spirit

Untamed and lost saw the first sight

Of the palest pieces of her

The parts that never saw much light

Nor other human eyes see before

Disgusted swallowed

Fear and excitement

As his frown made her want to cry

And regret the rest of her life.

He regretted touching her

And hated his hormones for winning the fight.

She hated him fir taking the best part of her away.

She'll never forgive him.

 

 

Emptiness

 

He took it all away from her.

He left her empty with

A coldness,

A bitterness

Upon her soul.

And a moment of regret she wished

She could take back.

She feels so small, so invisible,

As if there is nothing, but regret

And emptiness.

Like a flower without color

On the sunniest day

That withered over

The dead thoughts . . .

Just decayed. 

Becky M. S. All Writings were written 8/14/2006

 

August 8th, 2006

Ranting

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Bus Notes: Morning Notes

It's 8:15 AM and I'm in a very busy bus station . . . I'm very tired and trying not to cry . . . it's nothing bad except I miss him.

I had probably had one of the most incredible night in my life (other have my dreams come true of getting a music recording deal or winning an ocsar for my awesome scripts.)

I had clean/dirty fun with a gentle, caring, kind man who thinks I'm the next big thing since sliced bread. It is nice to know that someone cares about me that much.

It was weird I thought I would be nervous, but he was probably only person that I'm not related to that I was instantly comfortable with. I mean a very little nervous until saw is truck without him, and then we met and it just clicked. It was like I knew him. I know we've been talking on the phone for awhile, but it was like come connection that I can't explain. It was awesome.

He was just a person I felt I like could be me, and not worry if he was going to critise me for being crazy, or giggly or happy. I really liked it.

Denny's Rant

I'm so tired, I just want to crash, even with a few naps. I'm still tired. It's hard to sleep on a bus, I'm afraid I would sleep right through and miss my stop.

I just travelled 662 miles within 2.5 days and it's really exhausting, but I love it. I loved getting to know different people and finally meeting the love of my life and hopefully my soulmate.

I'm sitting here at Denny's at 11:30 at night wondering if I should attempt to run my brain on my writing or should I call it a hopeless cause.

All I can think about is Brad, and my happiest moment yesterday was laying on his chest hearing his heartbeat as he would glide finger down my back as we were just talking.

I love the fact that he's emotionally verbally, and phsyically affectionate . . . maybe he can break down some of my many wall with my self esteem issues, and help to express myself most affectionately.

I love the fact that has this spark about him . . . he love to encourage and cheer others up. (I think I had that spark at one part of my life too, but life really had wore me down.) I mean it was so sweet, and cool how just had a conversation with the workers at the "Waffle House." That is exactly why he get free food from people at Taco bell or why people at Denny like him to come in so much. I find that quaility so awesome.

I love the fact that he accepts me for me, his requests are realistic (massages, not having me make out with chick), and that he want to please me. (I'm not sure about the last one, sometimes I don't feel like deserved to get spoiled like that. I also want him to be happy.

He is truly the sweetest guy I've ever met, and I'n ot sure how I get so lucky to be with him. He really does have a cute smile, long eyes lashes, and is just adorable.

I must stop writing now, the food is here.

July 8th, 2006

Happiness

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Time always moves on
Happiness to sadness
to happiness again
Happiness is just an illusion
Of the mind and psychological heart
Communicating
Through blood transfusions
Of the confused, gasping soul
Whispering secret prayers
Of wishes than only in a perfect world
Would ever consider coming true.
Peace and truth are quiet
As realizations kill all innocence
As the history of happiness
is hidden
But reveals nothing but
A television screen of
Memory.
As it is said happiness is an illusion.

May 17th, 2006

May writings

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Lonely Girl

 

Lonely girl

Just wants a friend

Lonely girl

Wants to see her beloved again

Lonely girl

Feels all wrong

Lonely girl

Sings no song

Lonely girl

Used to be kind

Lonely girl

Will never lie

Lonely girl

Only cries

 

 

Why not me?

 

He blows me off when, I’ve cried

They cry and he’s by their side

 

I want to see him and there is excuse after excuse

But for them, hell never refuse

 

I’ve been there for his beck and call

But he’s never caught any of my falls

 

Why not me?

 

He used to be excited and sweet

But now it’s like pulling teeth

 

I think they get his better side

While Imp just thrown aside

 

If Imp in tears I wait

But with them he doesn’t hesitate

 

Why not me?

 

He’s silent when I ask him why?

I want an answer, even if he just denies.

 

I want to feel loved accepted

But they’ll seem to get the better treatment

 

He promised me a lot of things that I haven’t seen

I just want to know it’s all them and not me

 

Why not me?

 

Do I have to be hospitalized for him to notice me?

Because when they cry his at their need

 

I gave up my dreams, my friends, and my religion

But I told him to keep on going.

 

Now Imp lost and alone

And he doesn’t even want me to call him on the phone.

 

Why not me?

 

I love him and I always will

But maybe he’s lost too I can’t tell.

 

I’ve had a lot of time to think and now I know

I rather be just friends, then letting go!

 

 

The Lonely Truth

 

I just ever wanted a friend

Someone to hangout with

And I knew that he would have changed,

I would have never done it.

 

He was everything I wanted at one time,

But then he made me change

And now he barely speaks to me

I feel Imp out of his range.

 

I wanted to sing and dance

But he told no

I want romance

Where did it go?

 

I want to be social

With laughter all about

But he broke the bubble

And now Imp all out

 

I just wanted to be accepted and loved

But I just so alone

Imp really depressed

And I don’t know what is home

 

I shouldn’t have changed

In fear we would end

I just wanted to be me

And have a friend. 

Becky M. S. All writing written on  5/17/2006

 

 

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