Lovely

I have just discovered the joy of pouring salt and lemon juice on my wounds!
I must tell Angelina!

Food.

Sometimes people ask me why I never eat lunch.
I dont need food. Food is for the living. Its not important. Nothing is.
Sometimes I'll chew on some glass, tin foil or fingernails... but thats all I need.
Fucking fail.

Food.

Trampoline.

Today we had a P.E lesson on trampolines. I bounced as high as I could so that I could come down again as fast as possible, like life, you grow quickly, then you start to mould and shrivel and then, YOU DIE.
At the end of my go I threw myself backwards of the back of the trampoline, and was very pleased with the crunch my bones made when they hit the dirty floor of the sports hall. When my teacher tryed to help me I burst in to tears, grabbed his scalding hot tea and threw it into my face. I ran out, hand in hand with Angelina, and it was raining outside, so we ran into the traffic, crying, and hoped to get hit by a car.

The best day of my life...

Natalie and Molly threw me down the stairs... Then angelina came and licked the blood of my knees.
It reminded me of death.

A POEM ABOUT EVERYTHING

The dead women is dead
and stiff
I cry a little tear
I sniff
I cut my little finger
I bleed
Where are all the flowers?
All I see are weeds.

My computer is too bright.

So I draped it in a black veil.

A mention for Ronnie.

Ronnie is just a grey void. I look at her, but never see her.
She laughs with the people on the dark train of death.
Me and Angelina huddle at the back of the noisy crowd, unnoticed, unfeeling, disconnected.
Ronnie once attempted to talk to me, but shrank away like most people do, when she saw that I am not ALIVE.
she looked into my eyes and she saw it.
what did she see?
she saw the nothing.

Papercut

i came home today and found a treat on the table!
The Yellow Pages!
I picked up the book and slashed it across my neck - 600 perfect papercuts bleeding on my filthy black corset.
I showed angelina, and she took a glass of my blood home to write a poem and paint death. Then she came back and we peeled our scabs and burnt them, then our fingers, and then we cryed like never before. It was dark and painfull and desperate.
Im in love.

Angelina.

OH EVIL CRUEL LIFE SWALLOW ME UP AND LET ME DIE!
One of my worst fears has been realised...
Angelina may drifting away... Today I saw her look at Finn... An the connection between the burnt my eyes. I watched and I knew by the look on her face that she had just connected with him more deeply than she had ever felt before.
She is the only thing worth living for. I'll write her a poem.
Angelina kill me
Angelina cut me
Lie in my coffin
And I will rape your heart.

Snow

Its snowing outside... I hate snow.
The white... the neverending expanse of white. Colour of innocence and purity. Nothing is innocent and pure. This morning, when the sky was dark, I peeled of my night clothes, my choker and chains, and lay in the deepest, greyest pile in the road. I lay, and let it chill my blood. I let it chill me to the core, like a corpse, lost and forgotten in the loneliest graveyard.

Whats the point?

Hello dear readers....
why did i just write that? no one will read this... i must be mad to think that people would ever be interested in my pathetic existance.
except angelina....
she is the only flickering flame in the dark cave of my soul.
whenever i look at her i feel like some of the never ending emptyness has been filled.
then i go home again... and i cry... i cry meaningless tears... i cut myself... i bleed meaningless blood.
but how do i know if she feels the same way? i dont...