Monday, June 29, 2009

Hero Love

Emilie Autumn talks about her music, Victorianism, and her personal experience in the asylum (book coming soon!).

Thursday, June 25, 2009

Shatter Me

Just take a hammer. Late at night, take a hammer and shatter me. I am cracked already.

Take a chisel. Just take a chisel and work away what is left. Let me be shavings on the floor.

Take bleach. Take bleach and clean the mess you think I am. Clean it until all evidence is gone.

Take this life. Take it. I don't want it anymore.

Monday, June 22, 2009

New Place to Shop

Dear Wretched Wednesdays,

Have any of you heard of The Pyramid Collection? I hadn't until they sent me a catalog. I'm not one to advertise, but I'm hooked! They have everything from the whimsical to the wicked. Clothes, jewelry, home items, books, music...I'm in love with almost everything. Especially this dress!

I have nowhere to wear it, but isn't it lovely?

Anywho, just thought some of you might be interested.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

The net inside

Not so long ago
I was cold inside
Freaky ride
but free

And then there you were
The crime of perfect
gave space

Emboldened I sought
A deeper thought and

Under glass I wait
suffocated by
the fear of
the net

I don't remember
What I did before
Now I'm still
and stiff

My wings have been touched
the sky hides away
I fall down

I wish I'd not known
The simple dreaming
because now
I'm gone

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Love and Laudanum

Love does not ensure respect
Love does not imply stability
Love is not patient
or kind, or wise, or calm

Love is a panic itch of self doubt
It is the undoing of hard work
It is a constant source of isolation~
Only able to capture fleeting bliss
In jars, on velvet nights....

Loving does not secure staying
Loving does not contain courage
Love is not a brave emotion,
Breathless, yes... but not brave

Love needs an alchemist
The creation of a tincture,
The Laudanum of Love
Begin with Love, add trust, a pinch of awe, one held breath, honesty and a healthy dose of respect

This amalgam yields an as of yet un-invented term
The secret opiate of happiness

Lost to all who buy the lie of Love alone....

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Dear Sylvia

Such a tragic masterpiece-
you crouching by the oven,
drinking in the poisonous air.
I found you there,
but much too late.
Thirty-two years too late.

But the distance doesn't stop me
from crying,
from wishing we had been best friends.
And I could've pulled you up.

But no.
You felt like a star pinned to the sky-
couldn't pull away from the heat.

God had not given me life
when you died there,
but I found you, nonetheless
and I cried as if
you were my own mother.

Your grave sits cold now
and if I ever decide to visit,
I'll lay out some milk,
just in case
you decide to wake up.

What should we break today?

I really feel like breaking something. It always makes me feel better. I don't even have to be mad. I just like to break things. I don't like breaking other people's things... unless they were taken from me. In that case my favorite thing to do is quietly break them... and then put them back, unusable, to disappoint the thief.
What would you like to break today? I would like to take a bat to my car.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Under the sea

I was not a life boat
I was a little girl
And now you mourn my loss
And wonder where I've gone
Where else would I be?
I am a mermaid now
Deep under the sea


Tuesday, June 9, 2009

I Don't Write Happy Endings

Hello fellow Wednesdays,

I've always imagined myself getting interviewed about the nature of my writing and responding with, “I don't write happy endings.” Believe me, I've tried, but I can't bring myself to write the warm and fuzzies into my stories or poetry. Instead of everything being tucked into a nice, little box with hearts and kisses and an everything-worked-out-in-the-end attitude, my writing likes to remain in a dark corner, possibly in a psych ward.

Sometimes I tell myself I need to extend my craft into realms unknown – happy realms. But in the end, I find beauty in tragedy. Francesca Lia Block was my first mentor in beautiful tragedy. Her stories and characters almost always have an underlying sadness to them, but it's all so beautiful that you hardly mind that you're slightly depressed. Besides, who hasn't felt a tinge of happiness when listening to sad songs or crying or wallowing in misery?

I'm thankful for this blog in that I have a safe place to unload all the gloom and doom one can possibly handle. So what if my poems are depressing? So what if my characters commit suicide? There's much beauty to be seen in the dark.

The End

This is the first entry. The first entry on the first day that I feel like my adventure into the dark places has truly begun. For real.

The dark places in my mind. Where the stories come from. This blog is for those out there who understand that there is a lot of lovely in the dark. Come, bring us your poems, your sad tales.

We will post them. And we will post photographs, and ideas... stories and poems of our own. We will link you to all the things we can find on the web that are worthy of the Wednesdays.

Join the fun!