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Zoey Jane

34 years old from India




13th Feb 2009, Friday

What are you doing here?

Written 2009-03-23

Still weeping meticulously on cared carpets
Wanting control over the things that make me be this way
And terrified of all the people who tell me I can't
And the more they want, the more I give.

And then the creep arises from her weird jungle of words and refuses to be understood
By her

Again the guitar strips her skin right to the consortium
Again the skin runs her all the way back
And again to please the lords of war she gives in to her instinctual weakness
All the time knowing she could, she should be better.

Unbelonging has never helped escape the fake mannequinish hold this world has on her treelike existence. Dedicated to the rubber, she slides, every night, searching, every day finding she's still tied down by the razors of her broken man.

Crack and crumble.
Burnt and blunt.
What does it matter to flattened rice flakes?

Where's the man?
Whatever made her whole yesterday is breaking her today.
And the real is not fake yet.
The upside is bright yet.
The sunny egg shall be hatched
And until her positivity disgusts her
She makes errors in her kitchen of imaginary Italian wannabes.

All the time searching
All the time finding
The answers within herself never suffice
Until the other starts a trend from her ideals.
She fashions costumes outta the lies.
She fashions jewellery after 3 tries.

Happiness doesn't come wrapped in grass
She rises at dusk high not dry
She sets at mosque
High not dry
Cos it's clever to cry.
It sates his guitar
Cos it's clever to whine
It sets the path to hello again
When even chocolate seems depressed
And dressing up gains no attention
Gimme a reason to believe you will notice
I want to hold on to that shred
Showing you the inside of my mind didn't help you fit in

Come what may, I will love you till me dying day
Cried as I walked out
And as you hear the final chord
It takes your MIA to make me fall
And it's almost time you knew who I am
It's about time you decided to notice
It's that time of year, again
I'm hoping you dance
Alone, small and empty
Deep empty pockets
Deep empty tears
Deep and empty
Personal prayers
To days we sat and just talked of this that and mutton curry
Of Labs and bills and burning mysteries
I understood much less than you did then
And you emoed me down to the last cent
I refuse the thank you's
As long as I'm getting the best of you
Concrete girls swim all over you tonight
Tears give up their unheard fight


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Blondie from the bay..your quoted!
College life comes to an end.


In a weak

Written 2009-03-08

'but I'm unsure of myself
unsure of you
unsure of the things happening
when the world takes it away.'

In a week it'll be over
The world will take it away
And knowing this doesn't make it any easier.

It's not the end of the world
It's just the end of the world the way I knew it


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