I could TRY to leave you, but you may have to say you Love me for me to do so. That scares the crap out of me!! A very personal thing here... I am not sure I have ever said this before. When I was an altar boy in my church when I was going to Catholic school, before doing Sunday Mass in the morning... I'd be up all night. I would cut into my arms and slide these long needle-looking things into my flesh just under the surface, and sometimes even sew the cuts back up!! It was in the forearm area. There are no scars anymore and even in a black light, they can't be seen. When I would give my speeches to help out the priest, I would stand about 4 feet away from this statue of the "presumed" Jesus that stood about 16 feet tall on a cross, and his body was a bright white... because everyone who lived in the desert back then was bright white, I guess!! lol His bloody feet were almost where the altar was, where I stood, and I would rest my arms on the podium in front of the microphone and my body would scream in pain whilst reading what the Father had written for me to read..... My mom made me fear "God" and my interest for his foe was even stronger to me. I wondered how this house I spoke in could stand without such a foe. Your poem takes me to my bed and looking out to the stars to suffer my own existence with my nose pressed perfectly against the window pane, Lacy. I keep wanting to hug you when I am inside a poem of yours. It is not out of pity. It's out of.... it's from wanting this immense need to feel that hug of yours where you bring up things I have discussed with friends in small ways, but not as fluently or without prejudice to what others may think. I admire your star. Beautiful, Lacy.... xoxo -Mark
I could TRY to leave you, but you may have to say you Love me for me to do so. That scares the crap out of me!! A very personal thing here... I am not sure I have ever said this before. When I was an altar boy in my church when I was going to Catholic school, before doing Sunday Mass in the morning... I'd be up all night. I would cut into my arms and slide these long needle-looking things into my flesh just under the surface, and sometimes even sew the cuts back up!! It was in the forearm area. There are no scars anymore and even in a black light, they can't be seen. When I would give my speeches to help out the priest, I would stand about 4 feet away from this statue of the "presumed" Jesus that stood about 16 feet tall on a cross, and his body was a bright white... because everyone who lived in the desert back then was bright white, I guess!! lol His bloody feet were almost where the altar was, where I stood, and I would rest my arms on the podium in front of the microphone and my body would scream in pain whilst reading what the Father had written for me to read..... My mom made me fear "God" and my interest for his foe was even stronger to me. I wondered how this house I spoke in could stand without such a foe. Your poem takes me to my bed and looking out to the stars to suffer my own existence with my nose pressed perfectly against the window pane, Lacy. I keep wanting to hug you when I am inside a poem of yours. It is not out of pity. It's out of.... it's from wanting this immense need to feel that hug of yours where you bring up things I have discussed with friends in small ways, but not as fluently or without prejudice to what others may think. I admire your star. Beautiful, Lacy.... xoxo -Mark
I have endured much pain. Those shadows and sadness that pull you down. Here is where we all stand.. together. Wouldn't leave you to that by yourself. Not ever, my friend.
Pain is a very powerful emotion and yes, it controls a lot of us. Some of us like the feeling of pain and sadness, while others strive to change it. Many live in the moment of pain, crave and feed it to their best potential...this is life as we know it and pain is everywhere. We can't fully escape it.
heyy :) my names lacy im 21 im emo/ goth t but don't let that scare you cuz im a rly sweete careing preson, my firends are my life, most of all i like meeting new pepole i love to write poem about .. more..