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death by indignity <=> a requiem for perfection

...but what became of forever?

It was wrong, to think that.
6 August
External Services:
  • phoenixelle@livejournal.com
Pho; girl constantly confused and changing names. Mistaken identity, or maybe just chance. Desperately fragile, bitterly logical. Fond of acting younger than actual age. Narcissistic when drunk. Stable when loved. Pretty when very, very blurred. In love with black, and irony of the same colour. <3

Currently fated - I don't think that I belong anywhere near your happily ever after.
I'm a walking disaster/until I fall/and then I'm really just nothing at all
Currently overdosed on a lack of sleep and waiting for this to end... [see countdown]
[aiming to be the original bitter ironic comment girl of 2005]
Hopelessly addicted to all the things I can't have...or maybe just hopeless...


sometimes i wonder
if you'll think of me in five years time
you'll shake your head and say
that girl's a wreck

Blah. Blah Blah Blah.

This journal --> Friends only. Lovers an exception.
Also temporarily lapsing from the normal to be a fictional blog.

Also, I have userpics for those who want them...mainly band ones...here.

love is a drug
it makes you believe the world is wonderful
until you crash
then you burn and then you know
that you've gotta quit but now you're hooked
you're nothing til you overdose again
you want it
you need it
you'd do anything to get it cos it'd keep you alive
then years later you look back and find -
it's eaten away your soul
without it...you're nothing.


'write me
an elegie - write me a sad song
that's filled with desperation
we'll sing apocalypses
and drown in the melody of death songs'


...so this wreck of a girl
this overstuffed cloth doll
look into her eyes
black as the night sky and shiny with tears
but that's just the look of glass
do you see the eloquence of her fear?
do you see her misery and her anguish?
or maybe you just imagined it

make her sit, and she'll sit
make her hug you, she'll hug you
make her stand, and she'll fall down on the ground
maybe you could make believe she talks
believe it's her and not you
before you realise she doesn't have a voice

she's your obedient little dolly
she's your toy forever
whatever you make her do, she'll do
she is under your control
she is yours only
until you drop her
when you forget who broke her
who tore her up and ripped out her stuffing
to be carelessly pushed back
stabbed with a rough-handed needle
once again a toy to toss around
you'll forget you made her this way
curse her
throw her down
and while she may still appear whole
look carefully -
her eyes of glass are cracked and broken...