Thursday, October 20, 2011


These are the songs that are currently imbedding themselves in my brain.

Stand Still- Look Pretty = The Wreckers
For the love of daughter=  Demi Lovato
Time of Dying= Three days Grace
Pain= Three days grace
Smile= Boys like girls
Skyscraper= Demi Lovato
Zombie= The Pretty Reckless
Miss Nothing= The Pretty Reckless
Pumped up Kicks= Foster the people
Cute without the E= Taking back sunday
Jar of Hearts= Christina Perri

Do you notice a pattern?

For the love of a daughter

Dear Mr and Mrs Viner,

             First and foremost, I bet you're wondering why I didn't write this to mom and dad. The answer to that is simple. You have instilled in me the idea that I am not worthy of being your daughter. I cannot for certain tell you what I do wrong when it comes to this simple namesake, but I know it's true. Second, I need to make it known that I give everything for you. Classes four days a week, work five days a week, money I am not allowed to touch, no social life, resulting in inferior social skills and anxiety. I am home every day at the exact time you want me to be. I walk the dogs. I make you money. I put up with the secrets you tell me to keep, like Mrs Viner's alcohol drawer upstairs, or the packs of cigarettes in Mr Viner's truck. I run your daughter around town every day so that you don't have to. I pretend I don't have scars on my arms because I know that would embarrass you if anyone found out. I have a great average in school because I know that that's all I can give you since I'll never be a star like your other children. I try very hard to make you happy. I know it doesn't seem like it... Cause I never succeed in doing it. I wish I could though. I want to be a great daughter. One that you go to work and tell all your friends about. But I'm not. I'm a dirty little secret in this house. The red headed step child that no one really wants. I'll never be good enough, but it's ok, because you guys have finally gotten me to come to terms with this. I hate myself and my inferiority. I take it out on myself every time I make you unhappy. I have no friends because they can't stand it anymore or because I simply can't see them. But that's ok, because I would probably only let them down to. I tried to kill myself a few days ago. I didn't succeed. Just another thing I wasn't able to do. I know your lives would have been a lot simpler if I had. Hell I'm sure you could've even made some money off of it somehow. That's all that matters right? Just the money. Nd the swimming. The perfection and the way that she's gonna make you money when she becomes famous. I'm sorry I was never good enough for that. I'm sorry I quit and crushed your dreams. I'm sorry the money I make isn't good enough. I'm sorry the grades I make aren't good enough. But I will give you something that I think will truly mean a lot. I'll give you a promise. I promise that very soon you will never have to deal with me again. I will vanish from your life and everything will be perfect. It'll be exactly like I never existed. I know this is the one way I can make you happy. I will give it to you.

Your Disappointment      

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Im the kinda girl it aint easy to forget

I think its true. There are some people that come into our lives and don't affect us... but there are others who walk into your life and leave foot prints on your heart. I think I'm one of those. I think i'm someone that can teach you about yourself and about compassion. Teach you to love and to heal. But that's just me reflecting.

Life has been complicated lately. Of course, isnt it always? If life was simple... What would be the point? In all honesty... When my life is complicated i feel like I have some kind of purpose. When everything is going smooth and simple life becomes very mundane and boring. A dry loop that just circles over and over. Well... thats the majority of the time...There are other times that break that loop. The times when i honestly feel like i am unbreakable. When happiness doesnt even begin to describe how i feel. Words cant contain the emotion and images cant capture it. Its an amazing feeling.
Im there right now... and frankly I wouldnt change it for the world.

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Friday, October 14, 2011

If you can't beat them, might as well eat them. No one's gettin' out alive

Im gonna do all the things I swore i never would again. Im going to rock the town and drench it in red. Im gonna make every bit of hurt go away and make it official it will never come back. Im gonna fuck and fight and shake the very core of the world. It's time for me to grow up and i wanna grow up by rebelling out. Watch my wake. 

Saturday, October 8, 2011

You don't know me...

All I want to do is write. I just want to pour my soul onto a page and not feel any guilt about it. But there are 2 main problems with that.

Number one is that I will of course feel guilt because I am almost positive you will try and stomach the whole thing.

Number two is that despite the storms raging inside me I don’t really have a whole lot to say. I am at a complete loss for words and feelings.

I have ridden my emotional rollercoaster for the day and have finally reached ground level where I frankly don’t feel anything. It’s a very interesting place. Full of blank stares and empty answers. I tried to read and I couldn’t do anything but fully immerse myself in the depression the book caused and I don’t want to reenter that stage, seeing as how I just left it. I wanna talk about myself. Yes. I am a very self obsessed person, but hey, if that’s a problem you can go read something else. Now let’s see.

 Where to start?

Hi my name is Ciara. I am a college student struggling to graduate with a degree in secondary education, with a focus in English. I like books and movies and music and taking pictures and singing in the shower and dancing and having eyes on me. I am very afraid of what people think about me. I am worried people won’t like me. Some people tell me I am impossible to not love. But I know that to be untrue. Because a lot of people hate me. I could make a list but I don’t think that should be posted so publicly. Let’s just say it’s a lot. Cause it is. Period.

I grew up with a very loving family. Until about 12 years ago when my mother became an alcoholic and I had to readjust my life to deal with that. She is a very angry drunk, but I love her more than I could put into words. I also respect her so I don’t confront her. It’s not how I was raised. We shouldn’t disrespect our elders… my parents have also been very critical of me my whole life. They expect a lot out of me, and aren’t afraid to tell me when I do wrong. So I will quickly point out my flaws in any circumstance, because that’s how it’s always been.

I am in love.

 With a boy.

A man.

A prince.

Someone who is perfect, and somehow, manages to accept each of my many flaws and uncertainties and embraces them. He seems to love me no matter how many times I interrupt him or tell him he’s wrong or tell him I’m worthless and countless other things that would drive any normal man crazy. He is truly all any girl could desire in a man, and he’s all mine. I can’t get enough.

 I am nearly friendless. People don’t like to stay friends with me. I don’t know why. I guess there is something wrong with me. Who knows? I have a few friends but they don’t like to be around me too much. Does that still make them my friends? Or are we just close acquaintances? Once again, who knows?

                I do know that my fingers are beginning to ache and I haven’t even begun to place a dent in the need I have to talk. I truly just want to talk to someone write now and there is no one who wants to talk to me. It’s sad. But this is how my life tends to work out. O well.


Read me

It amazes me how jealousy somehow manages to sneak it’s way into me. I don’t look at things and say “God I want that”. No. I look at things nd feel a twinge in my heart because I don’t have that. But see, it’s the things I’m jealous of that make this intresting.

I’m jealous of the pictures. How I don’t have one.
I’m jealous of the drinking. How I can’t do it.
I’m jealous of the parties. How I’ve never been.
I’m jealous of the smoking. How I’m too afraid.
I’m jealous of the families. How much mine hates me.
I’m jealous of the happiness. How I fight for smiles.
I’m jealous of the love. How I feel selfish just for asking.
I’m jealous of the relationships. How everyone gets along.
I’m jealous of the mothers. How normal they are.

I just want to be normal… But I know I never will be. And that’s my biggest envy of all.

Negative me

I am jealous.
Little green monsters run through my head
like little martian soccer teams
back nd forth 
searching for a goal.
Envy is my sin.
I am angry.
Passionate storms rage war in my soul,
leaving everything
torn and broken
scattered all around.
Wrath is my sin
I am lazy.
Idle hands sit by my sides,
painting no master piece,
only flicking my thumbs,
slowly at that.
Sloth is my sin.
I want more. 
Taking all I can hold,
still wanting more,
never good enough
unless I have it all.
Greed is my sin.
I can't stop.
Hungry simply insatiable,
wasting what I don't want,
giving nothing to anyone,
swallowing more than I can chew.
Gluttony is my sin.
I am perfect.
I see no flaw in my design,
Everyone wants to be me
and touch me
I need no improvement.
Pride is my sin.
I desire you.
I want nothing more than to tear you apart,
claim every inch
of the soft skin
taunting me.
Lust is my sin.

The way love works

Once upon a time there was a little girl and boy.

The little boy held a bag of the most beautiful marbles, of all shapes and sizes. The little girl held a bag of the sweetest most delectable candies.

The little girl walked up to  the little boy and offered to trade all of her sweets for all of his marbles. He of course agreed.
Quickly though, he turned around and grabbed the most beautiful of all the marbles and put it in his pocket.
Without telling the little girl he handed over his bag of marbles and took the bag of candies.

The little boy felt he had made the best trade. He had a whole new bag of things to enjoy, but kept something from his own bag for himself.  

That night the little girl laid her head to sleep and slept blissfully through the night, not a worry in her head.

The same night the little boy tossed and turned. He began to wonder if the little girl had cheated him out of the best of sweets, just as he did with her and the marbles.

 This is the way love works. When you give all you have you become the little girl who can fall asleep happy and without worry that she is given all the other has, just as she did. When you keep a little of yourself locked away you become the little boy, who is haunted by the possibility the little girl also kept something.

Thursday, October 6, 2011

The Simplest of Pleasures

So lost in a world of nows and nevers,
of forgotten promises
and broken hearts.
Wishing rather to dive into a world of make believe,
fairie tales
and always and forver.
Much is the loss
of our innocence.
More is the fight
as we attempt
to gain something worth promising.
Come with me
into a land of make believe,
where nothing is what it seems
and everything is what it could be.
Where the grass is never greener,
cause its never not.
Where always is never
and never is impossible.
Where hearts don't break,
and people can sing.
So tell me
my love
will you come with me?

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Lovers lost in love's loving emabrace


Midnight as the moon rises.
Love as bodies mingle.
Breath as mouths part.
Heart as fingers trace.

For love is what you make it,
A touch,
A kiss,
A word.
For all who chose to use it
A girl,
A boy,
Forever can they make it.

Just another Manic Monday...

First and foremost, yes I know it is no longer Monday. O well.
Monday was stressful, thus why I waited until 7 o'clock in the morning to post.

So yea... No biggy.
I feel like this post could be told much like the tale of Alexander's No Good, Very Bad Day.

Meaning I could say, Monday was a bad day because blank, then blank THEN BLANK!!! But I can't do that. What I can do is say that I still have some work to do on my ability to not care about people's opinions. You can't win them all can you? I feel like I need to come to complete terms with that idea, then I will finally be able to mature past the way I let myself sink into a funk every time someone isn't happy with me.

I'm gonna do it...

So on a new subject, I really like metaphors and cruel ironies. I know that that's kind of a morbid thing to say, but today's writings really are a bit morbid.

Savage Desire

He couldn't get her off his mind,
she only seemed to haunt him.
The shadow of his recent past,
the dark never to be forgotten.

Every morning she's all he sees,
as he attempts to start again.
He wants nothing more than to reach for her,
for them to be more than friends.
He knows she isn't good for him,
that he should walk away.

But he'll never learn to live her down,
all he deserves is the pain she brings,
the thrill as she breaks skin.
He craves the rush,
he craves the thrill,
he wants her one more time.

There she sits.
Catching his eye.
Metal shining in the florescent dungeon.
It wouldn't take much to merge with her,
to take all she had to give.
All he can feel is the ice cold flood,
as he steals all that there is.  


Screaming words of ill fate 
for love,
Fighting wars for peace,
Staying up all night long,
trying to fall asleep. 
Wishing you could go home,
finding that's where you are,
Not wanting to be like everyone,
but trying not to stray far.
Believing you're in love,
with someone who's over you
Finding yourself to be in love,
with your own worst enemy.
Saying you're a rebel,
who fights without a cause,
Falling asleep just before,
you get to see the dawn.
Irony in every turn,
death for every life.
Simple things impossible,
a wrong for every right.
Forks in almost every road,
temptation pulling you astray.
But the irony is,
you don't want to walk away. 

The silence of a world forgotten,
speaks volumes to those who listen;
Of past mistakes,
and fallen kingdoms,
of beautiful women,
and ravaged lands,
that gave fruit til no more could be beared.
But now our stories have changed light,
Beauty is no longer in the fruitful,
instead we find it in cold hard glass,
metal towers and toy guns.
We feel so little toward out fellow man,
we take and seldom admire.
Songs are sung not merely for the beauty of the lyric and melody,
but to tear down and be cruel.
We need to change our world,
or our own world will not be forgotten.