can i pick again?

give me the right reason,

and i can promise myself all the safe returns you could wish for

i hate you, you fucking little bitch

all caught up in green spider webs of tea kettle houses and

lakes with mermaids

england, together, i could make art, and we'd have a library

and a cold little kitchen with a little back room

i mean back door

it was all planned and i never thought it would work

guess i knew more than i gave myself credit for

i'm more of a pussy now

no mornings filled with apocalypse and broken glass

i wish i had a crush on someone

i could try to love you,

but what's the point,

broken hearts, love letters, white lines

dead by dawn dead by dawn

they chant to me as i pass their eyes

bars of smoke, wooden spoons

you don't wanna see me

maybe i should have been mia

at least she was honest about being the mess she was

i've never been better than her

waiting to happen

god i hate myself.

Track 4

my horoscope tells me you might . . .

just might, but my heart has to be pure

i'm waiting for the control to unlock the port in my heart

in the storm you are my destination, in the port,

you are my storm

ripped lyrics, soft goose bumps, and you make everything complicated

i need a metal of chastity

keep all those sweet lies in my own

my eye twitches, and i've lost all interest in anything newish

i want something old, or brand new.

old familiar chills, and knowing you were right.

i don't wanna be peter pan, or anyone else.

can't i just be okay being me

you and i both seemed to think it was okay,

a long time ago

and yeah maybe someday, you can read it

i didn't mean to leave you, but i thought you wouldn't mind

darling

and now i'm lost at sea

wishing for the stars and waves to eat me

click clack down the highway of yellow umbrellas

in my borrowed red ruby slippers

i can't love you the way you want

just go away

cause, your right, we both know how men are

tell me what to hide for you,

diamonds are a girls best friend,

pink wrapped up in the last glass of muggy summers

sitting in the graveyard alone, watching that lightening,

listening for tick tock rolling up the dirt hill,

holding my mouth over my hand

" kiss me "

but the timing wasn't right for you

maybe i like waiting in my secret life

look thro the keyhole

can you see right thro these green eyes of mine?

marbled with bitterness all for you

i haven't done anything bad in far to long

i'm building up to the big hill, with my little rock of fool's gold in hand.

take this phantom heart away from me

i don't need it anymore

/0/6/8/ 1/2/7

flirting with danger
which is worse than
trouble.
shortguns, opium smoke,
and new pants
lost . . . . . . . onyx
and mismatched socks
ahmed makes me
sleepy, and i'm watch
ing for my metal
i want you to want me
i have nothing to show
for 20, i tell gail i'm
having the calm b4 the
storm. help i need some
body. periods, rubber stamps,
and iced ginger chai
you peek over at me and
laugh cause i'm crying

"what?"

i pretend my eyes
aren't green

i'm trying to remember what
i dreamt last night, i caught
you looking at me while you
(were)
kissing her, and the old
man is talking to me, everything
is old and familiar, linoleum,
........................Filed trips and. . . .

i never thought of pot as a drug
before

05 09 08 ?

i wanna kiss you

smoochy, lusty, and you make my insides fuzzy

wicker legs to stand on

misplaced blog entries

05 09 08

watching musicans work is tedious

like watching comic book artist draw

i think i took the wrong turn

or maybe i wanna be alone

with you

ethan sees the way i blush about you

god i need to do laundry

long finger nails keep breaking

my skin is dry and

i need a clove.

do you know what i'm trying to say?

original post date and time

05 12 08

11:15PM

sitting down town smoking cigarettes

makes me wanna make that movie

we were always talking about

i like all of the same boys

they are all married

and blading

my skin is cold and your right i'm way more

judgemental

i wanna be the spark you use to see

maybe it's true maybe you were less interested

where are you tonight

are you saying what i think your saying?

it isn't that i can't talk to anyone else it's that they don't listen

the way you do

Q & A

i wanna ask to hold your hand

but it makes me scared and nervous

which takes me back

cause it's like it use to be,

i'm not sure if you'll say yes or not

you thought my eyes were cuter then

filled with honest innocence

what would you do if i was there right next to you

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

i've written a thousand poems for the stars

that all get lost before the day light of my computer screen

damnit i miss trash day agian, twice!

i remember listening to my new solvent record on your floor.

i'm sure there was kissing involved.

everything seemed to crisp and new.

like life was before me and i could do anything i wanted.

move to denver open my own business.

the world and boys were mine for the taking.

my strike of optimism has ran it's course.

and i never was peter pan, i was just a lost boy.

and now i'm sort of frankinstien

wendy-lost boy-with-a-touch-of-tinkerbell

just to entice the boys.

why did i go and do it?

who was looking at the scars on my legs in my dream last night?

naked lunch style fucking in a cage as you pet my toes.

and i go looking for a shower in a fast food restaurant

with nothing vegetarian to eat.

it wasn't you that was sticking me in the mud it was me.

fat and hateful all over again.

i'm dreading winter,

and hoping i'm disappear before snow hits the ground again.

kyle is no better than i, and i'm no better than him.

fucking druggies.

i shouldn't push people into doing things i don't want them to do.

coffee and chile cheese fries.

i don't understand why you like me.

there's nothing in here for anyone but the jellyfish to feed on.

wrap me up in that white cloth, roses petals aside.

i don't want to live with this life anymore.

i need all the be happy be happys in the world to save me now.

i just realized who rob is, and meow wolf wants artists.

but i don't have anything new to show for my self, not in a long long time.

i'm breaking my heart, can't seem to make you mine.

as the crabs stack on top of each other kissing the night sky hello.

do i miss my nails?

i think i miss having something to worry about.

i can't tell if i like getting stoned or not.

everything rolls around.

i think i prefer drinking.

i want to be in paris,

watching the trees from outside a different window,

i hate my apartment, myself, all the things in it.

when i said the next six months didn't matter i was lying.

and i've come to think i've wasted the last six months of my life.

it's not that i'm not with you that makes them wasted.

it's just that, before there was a reason for doing things,

some how i don't know why it's different now

that you and i are gone.

you told me i was making a mistake that we would both regret.

i feel sick and wish the whole world would just go on going with out me.

i laid outside last night and slept on the cement.

i wish the neighbor turned off her light at night.

i wanna be part of something new and better.

a cult to completely engulf my life and brainwash me into knowing i was

nothing.

now i know how kyle feels,

like we could both love each other

more fucked uply than anyone else could.

i just wanna go home,

lay my head down and sleep till there's nothing to dream anymore.

there's no place like home,

there's no place like home,

there's no place like home,

there's no place like home,

there's no place like home, there's no place like home . . . . .

it looks up at me as i ride my bike

it all started the day before my birthday

going to see you, and knowing what was waiting for me when i came home from denver

crazy love, old blogs, and love letters

leave me lonely and cold in the middle of the day

it's the little sounds you make, that i wish were only for me

i can't touch myself from three months ago

i pled temporary insanity

and hope you don't think i'm a slut

i'm be permanently lonely with willie sitting on the hillside

watching the wind blow the grass full of patterns

goosebumps of memory fill my heart with heartache

i sit watching for the light from the hill

knowing you will come back

as monet paints the weeping willow i'm smiling at

my boobs are bigger my love smaller

and i'm only sweet to you cause i can't be sweet to him

your nothing special just like me

waiting for the needle to pull out

i want that clean paper running across my life

cross out the time line, washing me again in

hanalei bay

please help me to face the new tomorrows

would you kiss me?

if a. . . . double decker bus. . . . crashes into us. . . .

. . . .

crippled soul.

walk tho the graveyard with me and wipe away those scarlet tears

you said it was never about me

i guess it's a little like me saying sorry i threw up on you

and i think you actually hurt my feelings

there's a rash on my tummy

as i walk up those square spiral stair case

rainbow blinds, spots of light, and my eyes readjusting to the sober world

where the skin tone i wake up to is always different from the night before

again maybe your right that i'd make a good hooker.

three birds, two days.

i smell like you.

making progress but getting no where

six years, four months, and . . . .

under my thumb

you learn how to said goodbye

you learn how to make me say hello

stealing the girls i want

warmus

empty bedrooms and sweaty clothing

i like it when you said my name,



even if it wasn't 'sweetly'

falling in and out of dreaming




tyrrell wants me against the chain link

old blue monkey in the morgues of day of the dead

third picks and watching the light cascaded thro the grass

beirut, bite marks, and hating myself for

dumping you, letting you do that to me the other night, and wishing you didn't like me that way

i can't write, post stoned, and perpetual blue balls for you

breaking up the girl

take this empty feeling away

all the boxes my life use to fill

hieroglyphs covering your eyes and the words we once spoke

i wanna wipe that last six months off like unwated make up

reclaim the past six years as my own

tell them to go fuck themselves

please stop holding me so close to arms length

i think i'm gonna break

i'm leaving mother fuckers.

06/05/08


In accordance of paragraph three of the lease between Johnny Bradford and Serena Rieke dated March 11th, 2008 notice of termination is here by given.




Serena Rieke

it's too romantic not to be in love.

i wrote a poem as zach sings

ahbumbumbum

ahbumbumbum

ahbumbumbum

it's lost now tho

something about the big dipper

smiling down on me

all vertical like

my whole life fits underneath my bed

almost

and i'm daring the thought of cigarettes with you

he looks at me sets down my root beer

and says

this isn't right.

i'm to sleepy to write the rest tonight.

you say it wont point towards your heart

and i can feel you get hot with jealously

i haven't had one of these in a long time

cute sounds, head rubs and slight thumb pets

the little squeeze means your about to let go.

what on your mind?

(backed up hard ons and

sinking into the bed with you)

not exactly

a few days ago.

old contacts lost

lustys and ed style hugs

trying to write with a little charm

missing teeth don't get you to far with cherry lips

everything feels like the static age

couldn't i just have waited a little bit longer?

soft efedimineson

my lips, chin resting on my hands

with me pouting all the while

i miss our wishing well, your pool table,

and witch blade.

lost notebook pages

ghosts are whispering to me in my sleep

spilling lies of lady bugs flying south

crack toenails, live worms, you think.

black hair resting over her face

i'd never thought it

i work black for you

you dyed your hair blue for me

she cursed to me as spiders ran up my legs.

_G_G_

"you can draw whatever you want. you can draw however you want. it
doesn't have to make sense. it doesn't even have to be good. it just
has to be you." -- Jean-Michel Basquiat

june

waking up again, it's the first all over again and look how we've changed.

he's such a stereotype

i wanna fly thro nambe and look at all those wooded balls again

playing new england and wishing it'd all come true

what were we doing there?

i hate being held down

but it makes me make that sound all the boys go crazy for

i can't seem to make you mine



i walk thro the streets you painted on my back

looking into the half way houses of ill repute

wondering what you did with her

and if you thought about me

i'd throw the condom out, i know i know

but he's the worst friend ever

and if that's all i got from you and i'm knocked up

i'm gonna ream you

pounds come and go

watching you in your vivi suit and hoodie

as i exchange hatred on the phone with you

where oh where has my babygirl gone?

is that really the best you got?

you couldn't throw more my way?

i wake up, mason jar filled with water

i miss that plush green filling up my lungs with young summer air



not one kiss

it's cool and dark in my cell shaped box

thin membrane and nucleus all over

i know it's a mess i'm cleaning it this week

all i want is a locket with someone special inside

to have and to hold

black rimmed glasses with pale blue eyes peering out

makes my eyes blush and my stomach churn

he offers to straighten you out, he offers to fuck you up

boy toys

vibratex

and garbage

all making my week suck ass