Cannibaleats

Almost 1 a.m. Things sound better when ive been deprived Of sleep And all things human I’m satan I’m sorry That wasn’t very funny. I’m broken, Tasteless Hateful. Bleh. Pain is stronger at 1 a.m. I can feel it Diving deep Destroying everything in its path.   Pain pain Go away Come again… When you’re ready to take me to sleep. Eternally…

Sometimes I feel empty. Like there is a hole inside of me. An emptiness that seems to burn. I think. That if someone lifted my heart to their ear, they would probably hear the ocean. And did you notice? There`s a circle around the moon this evening -- A sign of trouble not far behind. But I dont care. I dream of being whole one day. Of not going to sleep each night wanting and wanting. But sometimes, when I hear those crickets sing outside of my window and I listen to the rain fall across the roof, I dream of a love that even time will lie down for. I just want to be loved by someone. I don`t know. Maybe I`ve already had my happiness. But ton

And this is where you're supposed to fit: It's six thirty-eight in the morning and this is where we are supposed to wake up with you wrapped in my arms and the world wrapped in the pale blues of early morning light. Somewhere between the first flutter of my eyelids and the first flutter of our hearts I am supposed to be kiss-whispering "hellobeautiful"s and "riseandshine,starshine"s into the skin of your shoulder and the scent of your neck, and your spine is supposed to be against my chest and my hands are supposed to be on your hips and we are supposed to fit as perfectly as a pair of parentheses. It is six thirty-eight and as I am waking u

                She wore barbed wire necklaces so that every time she laughed, it hurt.                 Little Freckles Frankie was the first to make her laugh so hard she bled. He was ten, she was eleven. I don’t think he has found anything funny since.  It was too bad really, baby blue eyes tend to twinkle when they laugh.                                   I caught her countin

sometimes I think I’m just a mess of badly drawn lines. I’m just scrawled veins beneath paper rough skin, I wear poorly sketched scars on my thighs [skin deep red pen lines] and even my smile is lop-sided- but he never seemed to notice. my skin [spread like thick icing over my skeleton] is a monotonous pattern of pores, a stretch of the world the sun never kissed. I can’t see the beauty in multitudes of freckles and chipped fingernails- but he does. ‘why do you love me?’ ‘you make me happy.’ I never could figure out just how. was it my illegible love notes, or the tiny hearts I drew into his bare back wi

Dear inner consciousness, I'm not sure this will work, but it's worth a try. I know it's hard on you.  Doing what's morally right, not doing what you want, whenever you want.  I'd rather procrastinate and laze my life away instead of trying these horrifically productive activities that you force me into. I'd rather throw all my responsibilities into the trash, instead of being bound by endless promises. Then I know that you get tired sometimes, restraining my wild emotions and my tendency to run into walls.  (Which I'm told comes to everyone at some point in their lives)  We've all heard the c

One day I walked to the end of the world There was nothing there but silence The sweetest noise to ever touch my ears One day I walked to the end of the world When my heart was filled with complications Of love, hate, sadness, anger, and despair One day I walked to the end of the world Where no one was there but me But I finally felt like I belonged One day I walked to the end of the world Where the sky cleared and opened up Showing me a path to something new One day I walked to the end of the world And watched the sun bleed to death As the world set into soft darkness One day I walked to the end of the world Where the ache in

the spiders are the only ones who listen to me anymore. they make beautiful patterns across the nape of my neck and down the curve of my back, their delicate legs making my skin shiver. they weave words over my teeth and down into the opening of my esophagus, and i have to learn how to breathe without destroying them. they want to protect me, they say. but it feels like there's an eyelash in my eye and they're intent on ignoring my pleas to go, go get it out as they continue their aerobics up and down my sloping vertebrae. and there's a splinter under my nail, digging deeper and deeper under my flesh and i can't move to

Essay Topic:  Please submit an essay (approximately 300-500 words) about an event, interest, experience, goal or person in your life which will tell us something about you that we will not learn from your grades, scores or recommendations. The admissions committee will review this essay with regard to content, style and grammar. Your essay topic caused a scandal.  Did you know?  Shock and dismay rang through my head like a well-struck gong.  Please submit an essay, you wrote, coolly enough, about an event, interest, experience or goal--a broad list--which will tell us something about you that we will n