phantom memories 

haunt me no longer just in dreams

but every time we touch now too

memories of times i vaguely remember

times where we loved, laughed, and lived together

phantom memories of gentle caresses, soft kisses, and passionate nights

nights that have not happened in this life

phantom memories 

of you with the ocean breeze in your hair every time i smell salt

the taste of rain stirs up forgotten dances and forbidden embraces

phantom memories 

of i do’s and until death do us part

it seems as if we have parted in so many happy lifetimes

but these phantom memories always find a way to bring us together again

I am just so empty inside.

Sometimes I feel like I am losing you and that scares me.

Remembering the weight of your fingertips pressed into my hips brings a cry of pure ecstasy from deep within me. The scent of you alone causes me to tremble with desire and need. Its been too long, my darling, since we two were one. Since I writhed from under all that pleasure. Its been too long since we were both consumed with raw passion.

Sometimes you just feel undead.

Hi my name is ___________, and I don’t matter.

Today I want to die. Close my eyes and drift away from here. Slash at my wrists until they rain red droplets of my essence as I start to fade. I want to swallow everything in the medicine cabinet, and feel my mind slip into oblivion. Pull the trigger and have my insides plastered against the wall like a beautiful accident. Feel the rope around my neck as the noose gets tighter and tighter. Put my face under water and try to breathe while the burning sensation rushes in. Today I want to die. Close my eyes and drift away from here.

When I look in the mirror I feel disgust, because all I see is imperfection. My body is the enemy in this war over my self-esteem. Every time I start to feel pretty it is shattered by a reflection of my face in a window. My torso is too small, my breasts are too large, my legs are too muscular, my eyes are a dull mucky brown, the list could go on and on of all my physical faults. It pains me to think of how others must perceive me. Whenever strangers look at me in public I feel as if they are constantly judging me, from my appearance down to my actions, and it feels like ground salt being rubbed into an open wound. People say your body is a temple, but when I look at mine all I see is a run down, decrepit, old house that no one would dare buy or live in.

[this is a short story i wrote when i took creative writing in high school…my teacher told me to create a character that i would normally never write about. So, i picked a model. i liked this story, but my teacher hated it :) i hope you enjoy it! ]

“My name is Ellie Pierce and my life is perfect.”, I say as I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror.
               Too bad that statement isn’t true. My name is Ellie Pierce, but my life is far from perfect. I’m an international supermodel and I have anything and everything a girl could possibly want, but I’m still not happy.
               On the outside I am this tall, skinny, sexy, brunette, but on the inside I am an ugly self-loathing person. I look perfect to everyone else, but I’m not. I wish I could be like everyone else. I mean I don’t even get to choose what I wear or what I eat. Not that I eat much anymore anyways, because when I do eat I feel the urge to throw it all back up. I just wish I had the freedom others had.  I feel like a prisoner in a sick twisted society where only the beautiful survive. I’m tired of being beautiful; I’m tired of being held captive. I wish my life could change!
               “Ellie, Babe. It’s time to go!”, yells Aaron my very gay manager, “We are going to be late…If you don’t get out of that bathroom right now I’m gonna…”
               “I’m coming just let me brush my teeth!”, I yell back through the door.
               I wipe the vomit of my lips with my fingertips and grab my toothbrush. The minty taste of the toothpaste makes me feel a little better, but only a little. I rinse out my mouth and open the door slowly. Aaron is sitting on my little black couch talking on his cell phone.
               “I’m so sorry that we are going to be a little late. We just had a slight…”, Aaron says as he looks up and sees me standing there outside the bathroom. He motions for me to go out to the car with his free hand.
               “Yes I know…I’m so sorry…Yes we won’t be late again….Yes she’ll be there in 10 minutes… Thanks again…Oh okay goodbye.”, Aaron says as he hangs up his cell phone and turns to face me, “Why are you not in the car already? We almost lost this job! What were you doing in the bathroom for so long? Do you want all of this to vanish? Do you?”
               “I was…was….I just lost track of time…I’m going to the car now.”, I stutter as I run out of my apartment and into the elevator.
               The elevator starts to go down the 30 floors to the main lobby. The quick rushing downward movement makes me want to throw up again. I grasp a hold of the metal bar behind me. The bar’s cold surface reminds me of when I was a little girl. I used to play on the monkey bars all the time. God, I miss those days, life was so easy then. Now life is a tangled web of daily torture. The doors whoosh up and I step out into the main lobby.

“This way Ms. Pierce.”, says a young bellhop. His smile is warm and comforting.

Too bad it’s fake just like everything else in this sad world I live in. I follow him out to my limo and as soon as I feel the leather touch my skin the driver speeds away. I stare out the tinted window; I didn’t know it was raining. If only I could be like one of those little raindrops, I could roll out of life like they roll off the glass.

The next thing I know I am in a cell like room with no windows and only one way out. Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I holding this black thing…oh right this is a changing room. I change quickly into the black train wreck of a dress. It looks like someone gave this dress to a little kid and said have fun. I take one step out of the cell and I am taken hostage by people carrying makeup, hairspray, and various weapons…they call them curling irons. 20 minutes later I am rushed to the set for the photo shoot; it’s a tiny medieval couch with tall candle pillars everywhere.

“Finally, I want you to go lie on that couch, and try to look like you are enjoying this!”, says the short little man with the camera.

I lie on my stomach on the couch with my arms draped of the front, the next thing you know there is a guy kneeling next to me kissing the small of my back. I flinch and the guy snickers at me. The photographer takes several pictures of us in various poses. I am sent back to my cell to put on a new creation. I try to zip up this corset dress but the zipper doesn’t want to budge and it feels like it’s about to break.

“Can someone help me zip this up, please.”, I shout through the cell door as my face turns red with embarrassment.

A “go for” appears and tries to force the zipper up, but she ends up making the zipper break and ripping the corset. She rushes out of my cell and goes to find the photographer. I look at myself in the mirror. Why didn’t it fit? I haven’t gained nor lost any weight… I should be fine. I push the corset off me and sit down on the ground like a child. I wrap my arms around my half naked body.

“How much do you weigh?”, the photographer barks at me.

“I weight 115…why?”, I ask timidly from the ground.

“115!?! 115, are you kidding me? No wonder you broke my beautiful dress! It wasn’t made for someone as overweight as you! 115! Your services are no longer needed for this photo shoot. Get dressed and leave immediately.”, the photographer spat at me as he slammed the cell door.

I throw my clothes on and rush out of the building and straight into my limo where Aaron is waiting for me.

“Hey you. Look its okay there are plenty of other shoots out there. And maybe he is a little right; I mean have you seen your competition. Losing a few pounds might not be so bad. Hey just imagine how you beautiful you would look at 110 or even 105. I like the sound of 105, don’t you?” Aaron said to me in his best cheerful voice.

“So starting tomorrow you are going to try a new diet and you’ll be gorgeous in no time. I mean thin is in lately. So why don’t we follow the trend. This could be a new…”Aaron says to me as I start to stare aimlessly out the window.

I’m not fat, am I? I can’t be. I hate this world, this life I live. Its so harsh and cruel, I just wish it was all over. I’m so tired, so very tired. I wish I could go to sleep and never wake up, because then I would be free from this horrible world. Eternal rest, that sounds nice.

“Okay so I’ll call you later tonight to tell you what you are doing tomorrow so we don’t repeat this little mistake again, kay babe!”, Aaron says to me as the elevator doors shut before he could finish blowing me a kiss.

Once again the elevator makes me feel nauseous. I can still hear the words of Aaron and the photographer ringing in my ears.  The doors open and I go inside my dark and empty apartment.  As soon as I flick the lights on I drop to my knees and start crying. This world has become too much for me and nobody really cares if I live or I die. Die…did I just say die…Death sounds like an old friend.  Who comes to take you into a brand new world. Hopefully the new world is better than this one I am living in now, but how would I do it.

I would want it to be quick and painless; the roof would be perfect. I can imagine it now falling down to the street below. No it would much more be like letting go and being free for once.

I rush into the hallway outside my apartment and go through the little stairwell that leads to the roof. Its cold out tonight, so cold that little tiny snowflake are falling down all around me. The rain has transformed into something fun and free just like I am going to do. I am going to become a snowflake. I step out on the ledge and watch all the cars and people below. There are so many people out tonight, I wonder why. I can see much from here it makes me feel like I am in control, and I like that. But, I can not stay up here forever; if I did I wouldn’t get to become free. I watch the snowflakes gently hit the sidewalk below, it’s beautiful. I lean forward and I am falling just like the snowflakes. I am no longer a captive in that sick world, I am no longer beautiful. I am just me, and for once it’s okay to be just me. I see the side walk getting closer and closer…I wonder if when I hit it’ll be as pretty as the snowflakes.

Oh steampunk, you say?
(this was how i dressed for the panic! at the disco concert)
{sorry for the bad quality, i took it with my cruddy camera}

[source: mahal lynn]