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 Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:16 pm
Title: Fighting The Urge
Rating: PG-13 [hinted mature theme covered]
Genre: Angst, unrequited love
Couple: Jessie X James, James X other
Small Summary: She loves him and strives to reach perfection to gain his attention, if even for a fleeting moment. But her slow crawl to death to win his love remains unnoticed.
I beg you to take a moment to notice me.
However, your pride forbids it.
A moment of your time, that’s all I want for you to take
To love me I’d be overjoyed just for you to show me anything.
Everything freezes over when you are gone,
Fear remains. I need your attention like a nicotine hit.
Every time I get one, it’s just not possible of being
Enough. I have had it living this life.
Lies and empty promises are all that remains now.
I know you want a different person, someone I can
Never be. She’s too much my opposite.
Gone is the hope that you will change how your heart works.
This is the end of my childhood romance. I cry.
Her body is perfect, not scrawny like mine. She
Eats; I do not and will not. I will somehow achieve my
Perfection through starvation. You don’t ask if I need help.
All you ask is how you look when you go to meet her.
I need you to talk me out of this mental lock.
Now, before it is too late. Or is it already?
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Posted: Thu Apr 12, 2007 7:22 pm
Title: Slice of Life
Rating: PG-13 [maturish theme covered]
Genre: Angst, traits of depression
Couple: Jessie X James, Jessie X other
Small Summary: Dark, post-Rocketshipping acrostic poem about Jessie's inability to cope with how she made everything fall apart. Take the meaning of the last line however you like.
Every time you grab a hold of me, another part of me is cut away.
Any time I cut myself to be away from you, another part of me dies.
Crimson is the colour dying my dying hand. Drop, drop, drop.
Hurts less each time in a way. I become the numb you already are.
Touching me is a big sin to you, isn’t it? Oh, you hate it.
I’m repulsive, your vision of what you could never desire.
Murderous thoughts fill my heart when you scream at me to stop doing it.
Even though it is what you do that makes me this weak. Or perhaps this strong.
Intimacy used to be how we spent our nights. Not this sour mood.
So what if I choose to mutilate myself? It’s not as if you don’t drive me to it.
James, I beg of you do NOT turn away from me. Please show me you can care. You
Used to be able to hold me, laugh and smile with me over nothing. Everything.
Seems far too long ago now. You are near me by orders only. Not romance. Lust.
Try to talk to me about it instead of tossing me aside in disgust. I can’t help doing it.
My actions are nothing more than a habit I cannot break. A vicious circle.
Or a ring of pleasure. It does make me feel more alive though it kills off more of me.
Reap those seeds you once sowed in me. When you loved everything about me.
Even my insecurities. But you can never get over my night of weakness, causing this.
A rift cannot be healed once created, no matter how it appears so.
Garish scar tissue proves this. Part of me wants you to tell me I make it look good.
Or at least not as hideous as it makes me feel when I think about it.
No escape from my mind of hate, you push me further away all the time now. No options.
Yet I suddenly realise with childlike glee, there is one. There is one.
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