wanna fall in love?

owl versus dove.

its all about you aint it baby?

its in your blood,

and its taken me until now to see.
its clear,
i don't blame you,

its what you learned to survive,
but its making me sick.
so this is me,
giving up,
on your selfishness.

don't be mad.

its not your fault.

sick of being sick

i know a boy,

who looks like this.

casted off.

in a paper boat.

left.

sailing.

away from me.

no longer in my hands.

my hopes.

my dreams.

my everything.

is no longer up to me.

a girl

a girl:

she's an artist

frantically fragile

and weak in the heart

swerving endlessly

a life spent in the wrong lane

her works are her headlights

her brushes

the keys

dangling chimes

from the looped ring of silver

she looks in the mirror

starving and smiling

trading bright gleaming

dollars

for paint from the tube

happily she'll give

all that she has

for the hope of improvements

and the way out

of her hand

covered in black

smearing the white

left to right

left to right

strike like matches

eyes wide

she stares

at the figures as they move

carelessly gay

as they reach

desperate for embrace

she lifts her hand

with the string from her gaze

attached

to the lens

of her eye

shutter open

and close

memories captured

with filmy residue

shiny side up

submerged

in a bath of aroma

staining the skin

cigarette yellow

similar to teeth

rewind

all she wants

is to be loved

her pictures

a picture

of what she hides inside

mirror

the mirror

of the back of her mind

and what she sees with her eyes

her heart on a canvas

abstract and surreal

expressionism too

her medias mix

with daring feel

different is what she wants

that wrong lane on the highway

dangerous

but real

ambitions too high

too much to lose

but she's ready.

hi

my name is carlie

woodworth

and i'm a girl.

dream catcher

now,

who could make such an amazing jacket?

Dsquared of course.

who could wear such an amazing jacket?

Mr. Kaulitz of course.

i hate being held back
from what i want to do.

i hate being held back
from what i want to do.

addict

i'm in trouble

i'm an addict

i'm addicted to this (boy)

(he's) got my heart tied in a knot

and my stomach in a whirl

and whats worse i can't stop calling (him)

(he's) all i want and more

i mean

damn

whats not to adore?

that cellular

will be the death of us i swear

i swear

and oh

i'm runnin my mouth just like i got (him)

but i surely dont

cause (he's) so

rock and roll

and out of my league

but i hope not.

sleepy kitty

yawn,
and stretch,
and snuggle back down.
warm, cozy,
i'm sick of drawing cats.
yawn.
sleep.
something i haven't had.
sleep,
yawn.
and eyes close.

valentine?

the problem...

the problem with being well rounded, is the concept of being stretched thin enough to cover all such areas.

if i was the type to get nose bleeds, this would be when.

ribbons

my contortionist ways
not of body
but mind
weave like ribbons
in the basket
of masterpiece.
twisting
reaching
controlling
the woven threads
holding me
together
and apart.
one reaches
from the back of my throat
to the squish
of my gut.
one tangles
between my mess of caging
engaging
raging
ribs.
both cross
perpendicular
to the other
one of a different thread
to the other.

what does a girl like me wear to prom?

something extravagant.

dearest alexander,

rest quietly. sleep softly.

you will be missed, more than you could ever imagine.

she'll do what she wants

and the more you tell her not to

the more she will.

the more you tell her not to

likelier

she will.

dear hypocracy, i never liked you anyways.

where is my boy tonight?

little bird

little bird listens
and sings to the wind
his voice overheard
by the leaves and the limbs
of tree tops
green
with everlasting life
sprinkled with droplets
of dew from the sky.

guess who...

finally figured out how to make a stencil on photoshop!

i shall include this in my self portrait. i believe it will be the finishing touch.

self portrait

meticulous

pensive

quixotic

whimsical

thats me.

we are the purple

he's a woven tapestry
in which
i am a thread
tangled endless
pull me
unravel.

you're the music
in my lungs
the taps in my toes
the whisper
in my ear
soft
ever so soft.

sick of spinning
tired of twirling
dizzy
fall back into my skull
a bone shelter.

meanwhile,
he's a bicycle
upside down
missing a wheel
circling spokes
around
and around.
stuck.

we are the purple
he is the red
i am the blue
but you've made me green.