high

Tonight, I face you.
For decades, my back
Was turned instead
Towards blissful ignorance.

Surely, you must
Forgive me for keeping you
Waiting, but I wasn't sure for
How long I could hold.

To bear the burden of
Such a secret
Was excruciating,
Tore my ligaments from my bones.

Every second I carried it.
For 20 years,
I carried it.
I carried it.

Finally, the immense weight
And exterior effects of all the forces
Around me caused me to
Lose my balance

I grasped them, but
It was too late. They escaped me
The burden upon my back!
Weighing down for decades-

One by one, the demons escaped
Slowly, with this changed weight
These burdens failed to drown me
In their bone crushing weight.

My demons, one by one
Identified themselves to me.
Hidden in some gruesome corner of my mind
That even I had not traveled the corridors of.

My disfigured body gained posture
As the demons left me.
I was free and I was light and
I could finally look up to the fucking sky

Rather then the hell that writhed
Beyond my feet, into the dimensions
Of history and of yesterday.
I was free.

I released my demons, and
Their burden no longer weighed me down.
What I failed to realize was that I
Released them into the world surrounding me.

Marijuana and 2:07 a.m.

Don't you ever invite a man inside. Inside of your heart, your soul. He will see the pillars holding up your strengths, and the cracks in the walls at your weaknesses. He knows exactly how to destroy you, by amplifying everything that hurts you ... Causing the cracks creep further and further up the walls of your very soul's foundation until they are but a fragile framework of what they once were. He will demolish the pillars. The worst part is ... He won't break or destroy everything at once . No . That'd be too easy. Instead he'll do it piece by piece, until you are nothing of what you once were .. At this point, you are unrecognizable to even yourself. And one day, it becomes too much, and you can no longer support yourself. You can no longer fill the gaps in your walls with temporary materials and worldly ideas, and you will collapse in on yourself.

It was sick. But it was how she coped. She was his.

Passion infused in his lips, he was

Electric in his tongue

Lust and liquor leaked through

The air between our parted lips

"Don't think, just act." I was

Possessed solely by my instincts

Prince Charming had died, this was

Jim Morrison, a living piece of art.

His grasp, suffocatingly tight, clenched me now,

Yet my skin still yearned for more of his touch

He had two very different hands, one for

Each of his selves

See, his right hand fed,

But his left hand beat.

But I didn't really mind, because

After all, his right hand fed. 

I could hide my wounds. 

I could hide my wounds.

Perfection .

Monologue by Lana Del Rey before performing "Ride"

I was in the winter of my life- and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell sleep with vision of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three year down the line of being on an endless world tour and memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not very popular one, who once has dreams of becoming a beautiful poet- but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again- sparkling and broken. But I really didn’t mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living- they asked me why. But there’s no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lied you head.

I was always an unusual girl, my mother told me that I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing me due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiviness that was as wide as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying- because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one- who belonged to everyone, who had nothing- who wanted everything with a fire for every experience and an obssesion for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about- and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzlez and dizzied me.

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people- and finally I did- on the open road. We have nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore- except to make our lives into a work of art.

Who are you? Are you in touch with all your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them?
I Have.
I Am Fucking Crazy. But I Am Free.

Green

There are times where I'd like to hack up all feelings and spit them to the ground. There are times where I'd like to allow myself to remember and reach a blissful state of nostalgia once again. But either are dangerous and either are toxic.

What's better? Rolling one, lighting it up, forgetting? Or being who you want me to be, without the poison of distractions, and remembering all of it. Each memory more painful than the last.

They ask me why I hurt myself. Inhaling the poisonous remedies, coughing out my memories. Maybe it's easier to run than to be confronted by the demons and desires of my past. Maybe I don't want to think about them.

Guilt

Believe me if I could I would grab a fist full of my heart and tear the convoluted mass of flesh from my chest.

Him

Being in your arms felt safe.
A flash of warmth flitted across my cheek

My heart felt your touch before my skin.
So quickly had all negativity diminished

And I was left, solely with your
Love in every pore of me