?

Log in

Orange_enigma


June 8th, 2007

Nazi Ghosts @ 01:02 pm

This is based off of something an Auschwitz survivor said in “Never Forget”, “Every night they come and stand at the foot of my bed, but I don’t open my eyes.” She was genuinely terrified.

Nazi Ghosts

Every night when I
fall asleep
I know they’re waiting.

They move through
my house in silky blackness
waiting to take me away again.

And people say that time is Past
They’re all dead

But they still wait for me
Driven by their hatred.

They want to make me a
victim again
Take away all life’s pleasure
deprive me of necessities
and watch me suffer
and waste away.

They’re so angry that I
survived the first time.
So angry they are driven
back from Hell…

to wait for me,
hoping I’ll open my eyes
so they can take me away again.

They have their gun
and those smiles
beneath the soldier’s masks

that make them somehow
less human
and infinitely more terrifying

They move through
my house in
horrible silky blackness

With the fires of
Hell and Hate in their eyes
and they wait

Hoping I’ll open my eyes
so they can take me
back with them.

And I keep very still
I can’t let them know!

But they must,
Because they take my dreams, too.

They show me my
mother and brothers dying
And they let me hear them laugh.

They vanish with the light of day
but they’ll be back

to wait for me.

9:32 p.m. May 7, 2007
 

May 31st, 2007

di-posted for the 2nd time today. @ 11:47 am

It Doesn't Hurt
Every step I take,
I try to remember...
The feeling of the metal diamond,
hot, then cold,
cutting into my bare feet.
The metal rod grating against
my calloused hands
as I climb higher and higher.
The wind pushes against me
blowing bits of sand
into my squinted eyes.
My knees ache and
every time I take a
step I can feel the
joints creaking, protesting.
My jeans don't fit right;
I hold them up with a
bit of wiry rope.
I don't remember where I
got my shirt; it's been far
too long....
The people on the streets
keep walking
The don't notice me.
They never do.
My hair is tangled.
I don't own a brush.
Maybe I did...once...
My hand touches the metal door handle,
cold to the touch.
My whole body moves
with the effort of opening it.
I haven't eaten in six days.
As it swings open,
it hit s my toes.
Sharp pain shoots up my leg
The surprise of it brings
tears to my eyes.
My foot burns as the
toes leak my blood.
It falls through the diamond-holes
onto the dirty cement below.
Stepping inside, the stone floor
is smooth and cold.
More stairs reveal themselves
and I start to climb once more.
I find another door and pull it open.
Breathing hard, I wipe my eyes.
I'm on the rood of a building.
Paint cans and dead birds are
nestled in the corners.
I feel the sand blowing into
my eyes and wounded toes as I walk
toward the edge.
I sit, my legs over the edge.
and take a deep breath.
The wind seems to urge me
forward. I swing my legs
and drop.
I close my eyes to protect
them, though I'm not sure why.
I don't feel fear, no regrets.
No one will cry for me...
I feel suddenly free
and I grin even as I hit
the cement. I hear
a car driving past,
and I feel warm as
though someone has laid
a quilt over me to help me sleep.
I can't breathe anymore.
I know my eyes are open,
but I can't see.
The sound of that last
car echoes, growing
fainter and fainter.
Suddenly, I feel the
metal diamond of the fire
escape, first hot, then
cold, cutting into my bare
feet....but...it doesn't
hurt anymore.

March 12, 10:28 am
 

(no subject) @ 09:28 am

I Feel: calm I am at peace.

Peace to all.
 

For the Man that is Gone from my life Forever @ 09:04 am

I Feel: crushed crushed

For the Man that is Gone from my life Forever
The Stone That Bears Your Name
-May 20, 2007-
The stone is cold
that bears your name.
Cold and unrelenting.

It knows nothing
of the man you were…
Why does it have your name?

Two small dates adorn the letters
but that is all passerby
may know of you.

~A cemetery is just a place.
Stones and trees and bodies.
…And memories.~

And the sky cannot hold you captive
The stone is below it
but you’re above.

Higher than I’ve ever been
So high I cannot see you…
cannot find you…

And the stone is cold
that bears your name.
Cold and ugly and nothing like you.
 

name @ 09:00 am

My name isn't really Robert April, that was just fiction, as I am bored. Not that I mind, I enjoy being bored.
 

Robert April @ 08:59 am


Robert April

Robert April

My name written twice.

Robert Paushie April.

Paushie. That’d be my middle name. The first middle name.

Brian. That’d be the second middle name.

I have one more, and it’s Wulfric.

Robert Paushie Brian Wulfric April.

My full name. I go by Robert, and I can’t see any good reason my mum gave me the rest of them. I haven’t had a chance to ask her since I was four days old, at which point I wasn’t in much of a condition to be doing so.
Not all things must be justified, in my opinion, so I’m not going to provide any reason for writing this.
If I have classes on a particular day, said day often begins the following fashion: a loud buzzer interrupts my sleep, I move from my bed, locate and don appropriate clothing for the day, consider and decline against food due to time constraints, release urine, gather appropriate school materials and exit the small building I call home. Classes are not something I much enjoy; older and supposedly wiser humans enlighten me at least three times a week, warning me to enjoy my classwork while I can, and reminding me that I am in the prime of my life, which is a rather depressing thought, as I don’t seem to be doing much with or in it, except struggling through my classes and recording nonsense like this.
 

March 4th, 2007

Jessica @ 03:13 pm

I Feel: accomplished peachy

There's a girl I know
From somewhere...

She's bold and strong
Despite her fears

And she's really and truly beautiful

No,
She's not particularly polite
Her hair's not long and shining
She's not some kind of prodigy

Her voice isn't soft or soothing
She can't paint inspiring pictures
Her smile isn't straight or pearly white...

- But she's beautiful

In most respects,
she's just an average kid

But in her heart she feels
she gotta be something more

She tries so hard and she does so well

But she still isn't perfect
She'll never be
But just because she isn't
everything anyone could ever be

Doesn't mean she's not beautiful

to me.

See,
She's a friend when someone needs one
She'll give them the love they need

But no one stops to thank her
They just move on once they've healed

So she doesn't think she's beautiful
No, not even close

She'll punish herself physically
For something she said wrong
She doesn't always try and hide it
But still... they never notice

Sometimes, she talks about
the things she does to herself
But she is called a liar
They don't hear her cry for help

No one's ever told her how beautiful she is...

If I went up and told her
she wouldn't believe me,
this I know

Maybe she'd think I was using sarcasm
to try and break her down...

All that I can do for now
Is try to be her friend

Take her scarred hand
And pull her along with me

To the place where happy tales end

To somewhere where we'll all tell her
How beautiful she is
And she'll believe us
And she'll smile

And that smile won't be pretty
She won't give us the best compliment of our lives
She won't dance a flawless dance of bliss
Or rush to hug us all
But that doesn't really matter

Because she know'll she's beautiful.

February 28, 2007 9:21 p.m.
 

March 1st, 2007

(no subject) @ 06:16 pm

The things that tear my life apart
I can't believe they're real
I guess they've hurt me just so badly
I can't cry one single tear

And when everyone around me
Turns so white I think they must be dead
I've got to ask the question:
Is it really worth it to live?

All these things that change me
I don't think they're really there
They've smacked one time too many
But I can't say I really care...

I watch my hands at the sink
Turn on the faucets, pump the soap
But I can't help thinking how true it is:
They're moving without me now

A year ago things weren't like this
We had picnics and played cards and smiled
Now I don't believe it's possible
To have fun, to force a smile...

Everyone I know is getting sick
Soon they'll leave this earth
And it's horrible to know
That their lives won't end with mirth

See, the things that tear my life apart
I can't believe they're real
I guess they've hurt me just so bad
I can't cry a single tear
I can't cry one single tear.....

March 1, 2007 6:12 pm
 

(no subject) @ 05:59 pm

I'm right here
But you won't help me

I call out
But you don't hear me

I wave my arms
But you don't see me

I die
And you don't care

Why is it you can be this way?
What happened to you
to make you hate everyone?

I hardly knew you!
I'd never had the chance to say something wrong
Is this why you let me die?

Those you don't know aren't as good as those you do?
The rest don't matter,
not at all?

I hope that's not the way it works for you.
Yeah, I hope that's not the way it works for you.
But really, hope is all I can ever do.
 

February 22nd, 2007

(no subject) @ 08:22 pm

Yay! Fuzzyslippers92 finally posted again! If you're them though, I liked your other poem better. Some of the rhymes got really weird and not-so-good. Keep it up, though!
 

Orange_enigma