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Saturday, 31 May 2008
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Stand Still
I guess I’ve got a little more growing up to do.
Not surprising, I’ve ran into more obstacles. Dead-end roads and cutting words. Misunderstandings and outright dismissals. Lies and fights and way too much pride. Excuses and justifications. It’s always something, right?
Mostly, though, it’s me.
I’m scared and I’m tired, though I have no idea why, because I’ve never really done anything… have I? I’ve grown up (in part), and, yes, that’s tiring in and of itself, but not like this. Why does it seem so hard to get up these days? Why does it feel like I’m losing ground?
Maybe it’s that a part of me has bought into the lies I’ve heard. The lies I’ve told myself time and time again. Maybe I believe that I don’t have the strength to become anything more then what I am now. Maybe I let them convince me that I belong in the background, that I’ll never be deserving of the limelight. Maybe.
If so, I’ve got to get past it.
If not… then what am I missing?
Used to be, I didn’t know who I was. Used to be, I didn’t know what I had (or didn’t have). Used to be… I wouldn’t have had the courage to ask these questions.
Used to be… scratch that. I’m still struggling.
~ Cassandra ~
"Anyone Can.
Not Everyone Will."
(did I or didn't I?)
Monday, 31 March 2008
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Used To Be
Used to be, I’d get so caught up in other people’s stories that I’d forget my own. To me, my own life was nothing more then a story I had heard, once upon a time.
A sweet girl, (a little misunderstood, but that’s to be expected, really) living her life, because that’s the only thing she could do. So-called “traumatic experiences” aside, nothing exciting ever happened to her. She had the same problems every other person in the whole damn world had. She was nothing special. No more significant then a speck of dust.
Used to be, but not anymore. I’m sick of living life like that. I’m sick of being pushed aside and my problems belittled.
Yes, I’m a lot better off then a lot of other people (something I know first hand), but I’m through with believing their lies that what I feel and think, and need, and want don’t matter. Because they do. So I’m stepping out, stretching my fractured wings (the ones you tried making me believe were broken beyond repair) and I’m getting a running jump.
If I fall, I fall. If not, I’ll fly. I’ll take to the sky. (try to tell me it’s not by my own spirit now, asshole. tell me it’s not my flesh, my blood, my heart, my life… my words, and soon… soon, my actions. try telling me to my face, and see just how much I’ve grown.)
Used to be, I didn’t know how to be. Well, it’s time to rectify that, don’t you think?
~ Cassandra ~
"Anyone Can.
Not Everyone Will."
Sunday, 24 February 2008
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"Breathe, just breathe..."
A/n: This is a songfic, done to Anna Nalick’s ‘Breathe (2 AM)’. It’s my interpretation of the song. The first three “drabbles” aren’t true (at least for me… unfortunately, they may be all too true for some), but the fourth is sort of about me and my life. So, let me know what ya’ll think, please.-----
BreatheI walk slowly, her clammy hand grasped tight in mine. Silence reigns. Words won’t do any good now. Her mind is set as she pushes through the glass doors into the sterile waiting room.
An upper class woman in the front row looks up, her gaze assessing and dismissing. A young girl, trembling in the corner, barely glances up, but it’s not easy to miss the pain and fear in her eyes. The woman behind the desk peers out from behind her glasses, her distaste showing clearly in her eyes. Her voice is cold and judging as she asks, “Can I help you?”
I shudder, squeezing her hand tighter. I can’t change her mind now. It’s her choice, and I can only be there to pick up the pieces later. My feelings don’t matter now.
Hours later, I hold her close as she cries, biting my lip to keep the words in.
I knew this would kill her.
-----
Two Am, and she calls me, ‘cause I’m still awake.
“Can you help me unravel my latest mistake?
I don’t love him. Winter just wasn’t my season.”
Yeah, we walk through the door, so accusing their eyes.
Like they have any right at all to criticize.
Hypocrites. You’re all here for the very same reason.
‘Cause you can’t jump the track; we’re like cars on a cable.
And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, girl.
So cradle your head in your hands and breathe.
Just breathe. Oh, breathe. Just breathe.
-----
I knew him before he became the uniform. Before he left to fulfill his dream of changing the world. He used to smile. He used to laugh. But, these days, there’s no life left in his eyes. This life has changed him.
I sit next to him on a stool, watching him cradle his drink in trembling hands. He’s mostly silent, but when he does speak, his voice is flat. Dead, like his eyes. He flinches when I touch his arm. I try to hide my tears.
He throws back his drink, like he doesn’t even feel the burn. I wonder how much he has to drink before he can forget the things he’s done. I wonder how much more it takes before he’s able to talk about it. I don’t ask.
Days later, I watch him walk away, and for a moment, I can pretend that he’s that same bright eyed boy leaving me to save the world.
The defeated set of his shoulders completely shatters the illusion.
-----
May, he turned twenty one on the base of Fort Bliss.
“Just a day,” he said down to the flask in his fist.
Ain’t been sober since maybe October of last year.
And here in town you can tell he’s been down for awhile,
But, my god, it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles.
Want to hold him… maybe I’ll just sing about it.
‘Cause you can’t jump the track; we’re like cars on a cable.
And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button, boys.
So cradle your head in your hands and breathe.
Just breathe. Oh, breathe. Just breathe.
-----
A tears slips down my cheek as I hear the mirror shatter from down the hall. I wish I could help, but every time I try, you just push me away. All I can do is cry, because you can’t seem to see what you want so badly to leave behind.
I steal quietly down the hall, and lean against the wall. You’re mumbling something to yourself, and I know all too well that you’re not talking yourself down. I just wish you’d open your eyes.
I slide down, and press my ear against the door. You don’t know it, but I’m always right beside you. I hope that you feel me, and that I can help you find the strength to pull through one more night.
You don’t know it, but I can’t live without you.
You don’t know it, but if you go, I’ll be right behind you.
That is how much I love you.
-----
“There’s a light at each end of this tunnel,” you shout,
Cause you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out.
And these mistakes you’ve made, you’ll just make them again.
If you’d only try turning around…
-----
I pour my feelings out, hands shaking, heart breaking, but you don’t seem to care. You brush me aside, and tell me you’ll fix me later. Later never comes. I’m left alone, trying not to cry for something that doesn’t even matter.
I pour my feelings out, hope soaring, free falling, and you’re never there to catch me. You tell me you’re sorry, and that next time will be different. But next time is all the same. I’m left alone, wondering why I keep falling for the same old game.
I pour my feelings out, with no one around, without expectations. You choose now to hear my cries, and memorize my fears. I’m trying hard to trust, but I don’t know if I can. You let me down, so many times. How can I ever trust again?
If you’re going to hurt me, do it quick.
If you’re going to break me, let’s get it over with.
I’ve given you everything, and this is how you repay me.
-----
Two Am, and I’m still awake writing a song.
If I get it all down on paper, it’s no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to.
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd,
‘Cause these words are my diary screaming out loud.
And, I know that you’ll use them however you want to.
‘Cause you can’t jump the track; we’re like cars on a cable.
And life’s like an hourglass glued to the table.
No one can find the rewind button now.
Sing it if you understand and breathe.
Just breathe. Whoa, breathe. Just breathe.
Breathe… just breathe.~ Cassandra ~
Dated: Jan 1, 2008"Anyone Can.
Not Everyone Will."
Monday, 28 January 2008
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Unexplainable
It's not like it was before. Don’t know when, or why, it changed. All I know is that nothing is the same. It’s… new. Only not. It’s used, and abused, and scarred, and definitely not what anyone would expect. Not for this. Not now.
The scars run deep, deeper the can ever be fixable. But they shine like that Moon in the midnight sky. Beautiful. Nearly touchable, if you want it bad enough. They’re not flaws. They don’t scream “It hurt so badly, but I survived.” No, these scars whisper oh-so sweetly “Don’t you wish you could be just like me?”
It’s not damaged. It’s not horrid. It draws your eye. It hurts to look, but you just cannot turn away. It’s beautiful in that twisted sort of way, and you can’t help but wonder how anything could be that… perfect… after everything it must’ve gone through. Because you know it did.
It broke once. It shattered into a million pieces on the ground, but even in the middle of its darkest hour… its’ sparkle outshone the Stars. It maintained its’ dignity when anything else would have crumbled into ash. The Wind wanted to carry it away, but it denied even her. Pissed her off, it did, but even now, the Wind still longs, dreams, wishes for the day when it will finally succumb.
And, I know, you want to know what this “It” is… I can’t explain it. It’s everything and nothing. It’s good, but it’s oh-so bad at heart. It has broke, but it managed to pull itself back from the brink of oblivion. And, no matter what anyone say… it is not going anywhere.
It is here to stay, in all its’ beautiful gruesome glory. The Sun, Moon, Stars, and Wind hate it… but, then again, it’s a thin line, isn’t it?
~ Cassandra ~
"Anyone Can.
Not Everyone Will."
Monday, 31 December 2007
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Today's Chosen Skin
She shifts; pulling today’s chosen skin tighter around her, falling farther into character. Yesterday is put away, pushed to the back of the closet, but she can still hear her former voice ringing in her ears.
“Is that all you can do?”
She steps closer to the mirror, trying not to meet the eyes staring back at her. She dusts the brush across the skin, sculpting this stranger’s face into someone who can be mistaken for her. The make-up hides the flaws, but that’s never what she’s been worried about.
“Is this all you can be?”
She flinches, but doesn’t make a sound. She just keeps applying the make-up with a not-so steady hand. For a split second she catches the eyes in the mirror. They’re empty. Dead. Void of any sort of life. She turns away.
“Is this all you can do?”
A tears slips from empty eyes, and trails over the skin hiding who she is. The difference is shocking… or would be, if she’d look up. She’d long forgotten what she’s like without someone else’s skin. She doesn’t look up.
“Is that all you can be?”
Her breath catches in her throat. Tears keep falling down, washing away the mask. Her hands curl into fists. Perfume bottles rattle when she slams them down. She finally raises empty eyes. She doesn’t like what she sees.
Her voice breaks as she whispers “I honestly don’t know.”
~ Cassandra ~
"Anyone Can.
Not Everyone Will."
The_ViolatedAngel_Story
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- Name: Cassandra Sayen
- Birthday: 1/10/1990
- Gender: Female
- Member Since: 3/9/2006
