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ashtraygurl
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Name: Lauren
Birthday: 5/10/1982
Gender: Female
Interests: Island life, wandering, reading, writing, Astronomy, Astrology, Eastern Chinese Philosophy, antiquated britishisms, antiquing, music, concerts, jam sessions, open mic nights, nancy boys, riot grrls, driving, shopping, Jackie O's, hoodoo, tomfoolery, black eyeliner, American Idol, lazing, inventing new words, reptiles and amphibians, picking my nose in public, your mom.
Expertise: Slackassery
Occupation: Sponge
Industry: Inertia
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
MSN: lngrossman@msn.com
Yahoo:  lngrossman
Member Since:
10/14/2004
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| Who does he think he is?
So fascinated with this facade
We watch another September fade
And our fears come full circle.
Shapeshifters
Living out the same story line
In different skin
We've collected these lives
Dissected and labeled them
But haven't learned much beyond
The price we pay for change.
Autumn glows orange
Endless possibilities stifled by fire
And death
I am weary of the same ending
Winter brings another cycle
Spring trades seven for eight
But I just want to linger
In these last rays of sunlight
Filtering through branches onto leaves
Still green
Old crow
What is the price of my freedom?
That indigo void seems like an unobtainable goal
As I waste another season of this life
With you. | | |
| You gonna get on that plane?
Your toothless friends
Are knocking at the door
And I'm shuffling and dealing their future
As best I can
You're 1,000 miles away
Blasting perceptions
Recreating the truth
Whose side are you on?
Crawling on your fucking knees
Through fields of scrap metal
That war was over years ago
So when are you going to come home?
There's no one left to fight
And I've got the survivors in line
Ribs visible through sallow skin
All sour breath and sunken eyes
The ransom's been paid
So many lives for one sad life
We've all played the hand we were dealt
Now we're waiting for you to do what's right. | | |
| You better make sure that knife is sharp, boy
Before you sink the blade into my back
Or better yet, my belly
Better make sure you gut me good.
But what do you think you might find
Among my entrails?
I buried them bones two years ago,
There's nothing here for you to see.
So dig that hole,
And try to divine the meaning of
The blood you spilt,
Oh, what a mess you made!
But this Ghost
Is going to walk away,
And leave you with your ripe and rot,
Your fool's tale,
And a dead girl who isn't talking. | | |
| My world is a Todd McFarlane animation
All black and red
And villanous protagonists
Another re-evaluation
Of Nothing
Late night diners with
Formica countertops
Screaming to be wiped clean
By my face
Some chrome and vinyl nightmare
I am this fucking
Pattern of scars
Constellation of stars
Eraser marks prominent
And drawn again
Toxic
Evil
And fighting to save myself. | | |
| Wherever you are,
Please stay. I've been keeping my hands busy
So as not to carelessly punch numbers
Rather, these digits are occupied
With the counting and recording of
Just how many times
We've been through this same thing. So, wherever you are,
please stay. As far away from my heart and mind
As you can possibly be.
You suffocating
Sticky tar.
Your paperweight promises
Pinning me to this same place. Wherever you are,
please stay. My lungs are no longer compressed.
My thoughts are no longer static.
Like that time I escaped your sleeper hold.
Consciousness restored.
Greedily sucking in air.
Alive and out of reach. Stay away from me. | | |
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