msmagnifico's Journals on Buzznet

Unhappy Ending...

msmagnifico — 2009-11-11T16:48:00Z

I'd rather be the Cinderella that was never saved,

because the day she met her prince,

was the day she gave her heart away,

To a life so cliche...

I'd rather be the Rapunzel that stayed up in her tower,

with a fire breathing dragon guarding, hour after hour,

waiting by,

the window sill,

tears in my eyes...

Because every time I'm taken away from my hell,

it seems that a new one gets made,

And every time, it seems my broken heart is mending,

I have to burn my happy-ending...

I'd rather have my heart locked away and kept safe,

Than out in the open,

getting beat-up by the rain...

I'd rather never love again and cut off all my ties,

Than live through all that was pretend,

And soak up all the lies,

The lies,

that put the tears back in my eyes...

Because ever time I'm taken away from my hell,

it seems a new one gets made,

And everytime, it seems my broken heart is mending,

I have to burn my happy-ending...

Super Crap-Poem but I wanted to post it anyways...

msmagnifico — 2009-11-11T16:44:00Z

I want to break your heart,
I want to hurt you,
I want to tear you apart,
I want to desert you.

I want to rip you to shreds,
I want to strangle you,
I want to leave you for dead.
I want to mangle you.

I want to make you cry
I want to kill you,
I want to make you die,
I want to shrill you,

I want to bring you to end,
I want to doctor you,
I want to bring you offend,
I want to slaughter you.

A Song I Wrote, to the Tune of Coldplay's Fix You

msmagnifico — 2009-11-11T16:32:00Z

The Deeper I Cut,
The More I Bleed,

The Worse I Feel,
The More I Need,

For You To Just,
Be Here With Me...

And Not Be With Her....

The More You Talk To Her,
I See,

The More You Seem,
To Ignore Me,

And That's What Makes,
The Jealousy...

Her Name I Curse...

I'll Be Fine, I Know,
It's Your Life, And It Shows,
Cause I Could Smile,
When I Was With You...

And The Scars Dig In,
And They Are Traced,

Blinding My Eyes Up,
With Thin Lace,

For The One Thing,
I Cant Bare To Face,

Your Rejection...

To Me You Just,
Can't Be Replaced,

So Don't Tell Me,
It Was A Waste,

But At Least,
I Got A Little Taste,

Of Perfection...

I'll Be Fine, I Know,
It's Your Life, And It Shows,
Cause I Could Smile,
When I Was With You...

Blood Pools,
On My Floor...
It Seems I Don't Exist Anymore,
Blood Pools,
On My Floor,
I'll Hide It...

Blood Pools,
On My Floor,
It Seems My Heart Has Broken,
Ruined, Slashed and Torn,
Blood Pools,
On My Floor,
I'll Hide It...

I'll Be Fine, I Know,
It's Your Life, And It Shows,
Cause I Could Smile,
When I Was With You...

Can you Fight the Enemy, When you have this Many >.< [Part Two]

msmagnifico — 2009-08-10T23:00:00Z

Gerard’s p.o.v.

I set my papers by the clock on the table next to my bed.

Mikey sat and turned to face me, he put his elbows on his knees, and slouched over with his head in his hands.

“It sounds like the fighting died down a bit, yeah?” Mikey was staring at the pile of papers I just collected.

He sighed, “I dunno, maybe.”

I laughed at his very delayed answer,

“What?” he asked now looking up at me.

“Dude, you took like a whole minute to answer...” I paused, “Are you really that curious to look at them?” I said smirking at him.

“Actually… yeah… I am.” He said looking over at the small pile again.

“Stop dreaming Mikes, I never let people see my stuff before it’s done… you know that… but how can I say no to those eyes,” I said smiling.

He looked up at me again, with one eyebrow raised.

“Here, I’ll make you a deal.” I said grabbing my papers carefully.

Mikey perked up, and sat up strait, I smiled at his hopefulness.

“You can see my art if …you give me your glasses.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, and slumped down again. I laughed , I knew he couldn’t see shit without them.

“Gerard , you’re such a smart ass…” he said looking down at his lap,

“I know,” I laughed at him again…

Then everything just fell silent, and we sat there breathing in sequence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Gerard..." I heard a light voice say.

"What?!" nearly yelled, and there was mom, smiling at me throught the beam of sunlight,

"Oh sorry, I guess I fell back asleep," I told her, rubbing my eyes awake.

Mikey was passed out at the other end of my bed,

"I guess we both passed out like half an hour ago," I said leaning over to shake him awake.

"Well you both you both better get up," she said pushing the hair out of my face, which was kind awkward, then I realized, something mush have happened with him.

Mikey was to stubborn to budge, "Mom, what happened with umm... him.." I would never call him Dad.. or Father, or any other pet name you're suppose to call your Mom's spouse.

“Not much, Gerard…but I think he’ll be out of the house for a week or two”

I knew that wasn’t the whole truth, because he’s always out of the house for a fucking “week or two.”

“Good…” I looked up at her, and she kissed my forehead.

“Start getting ready, honey…and wake up your brother,” she smiled as she walked past my bed and closed the door behind her.

She always seemed happier when he was gone, he’s such a bastard… Mikey doesn’t know what mom had to put up with before he was born, so he just thinks they’re both bad, but I know she cares, and I know she’s trying to take care of us… I’m glad she got that fucking restraining order before Mikey was born… he didn’t have to go through all the abuse, and anger that I did, and I hope he never does…

Frankie’s p.o.v.

“Somebody fucking shoot me please,” I whispered to myself as I pulled my backpack onto my lap, and wrapped my arms around it.

“What?” my mother said, I knew she didn’t really care, she was to focused on getting me, there on time. My words couldn’t possibly impact her that much.

“Nothing,” I responded. I couldn’t help but glare at the dull, dirt colored building, in all its glory.

The Jocks, Preps, and Scene-kids, waiting to beat me to a bloody pulp, The councilors, that never really council you, they just tell you to “keep your grades up” or “you need to focus on your future.” Right, like they actually care about our futures, not that I have one, The ignorant students, that can’t except anyone who isn’t just like them, The teachers, who are either bipolar, or just don’t give a shit, but honestly I can’t say I blame them.

This Place is My Hell.

And the routine begins, the cycle of being forced to attend a place where you are hated every. single. day.

I unbuckled my seat belt, and pulled my hood down to my eyes. My mother slowly stopped at the sidewalk as I looked away from the school and out the window to my right, I pulled the handle on the door and opened it to the cringe-worthy sound of Omg’s, girls texting, and other annoying high school conversation.

I sighed at what I was about to do, what I knew I had to do. I forced my torn and tattered converse the hit the concrete below me.

I grabbed my backpack, and turned to face my mother, “bye mom,” said with close to no emotion,

“Bye honey, have a good Monday,” she told me while putting on her mascara, as I took hold of the door.

“fer sure,” I said, pushing the door closed, it was a sarcastic statement in my head but, I didn’t say it that way.

I watched her drive off, in that white mini van, with the pearl finish… it almost felt like being abandoned, not in the sense of me missing her, but just feeling left… but, the unfortunate return of parental supervision would be in just a few hours.

I tugged my headphones out of my pocket, pulled my hood down to my eyes again, and viewed the new freshman, I could just picture the torture they would be receiving in a matter of hours, especially the halfway goth girl in the back, she hid her face under her hood, but no guy would wear their hair that long on the first day of school. At first glance she was nothing special, but maybe someone who’s not a jackass might be attending this school.

I walked from one end of the street to the other, music blaring, and watched the number 36 buss pull up,

“Clarissa…” I whispered to myself as I glared hatefully as the bus…

Can you Fight the Enemy, When you have this Many >.< [Part One]

msmagnifico — 2009-07-30T22:47:00Z

[ Kay so, this is my first attempt at a fanfic, obviously, I choose my most favorite band eva My Chemical Romance so here goes...]

Mikey's p.o.v.

I woke up to the sound of them screaming again, their fight's drive me insane I swear.

I rolled over to my side and reached over to my glasses on my night stand, I slid them onto my face, I couldn't see shit without them. I blinked a few times and turned my digital alarm clock towards me. "Fuck..." I muttered, "6 o'clock really? They couldn't of waited till' seven at least? So much for god dammed courtesy." I threw my pillow to the wood floor, I was frustrated, some parents they are.

I sat up, and stepped off my bed at is creaked from the weight lifting off of it. I wiped my mouth, and headed towards the hallway, I prepared myself for the yelling to get louder, even with these walls thin as paper they managed to block out some sound. I dragged my baggy, plaid pants, and my oversized tee-shirt, in the direction of my brother's room. I passed the living room, and cringed at the sound of them yelling, it didn't hurt so much anymore, just pissed me off, and they always had that fucking T.V. on. They didn't think that would actually drown out the sound did they? I watched them for a few minutes. The hallway was dark enough for me not to be seen, not that they would notice me much anyway. It wasn't that entertaining; I moved on and slipped my hands into my pockets.

I stood about 3 feet away from My brother's door, I walked up as the floor creaked below my feet, And knocked on his door... No Answer. I opened it up enough to poke my head through, and there was Gerard, asleep, pencil in hand, sitting up against his backboard, charcoal sketched papers sprawled all over his bed, and various ones all over the floor. I opened up the door, slipped through, and shut it quickly, I noticed his room was far more sound resistant than mine, way more than mine.

I walked over to his bed, trying my best not to step on his artwork, and poked him, I knew I could wake him easy, he was a light sleeper, when it came to touch anyway.He turned his head away from me and towards his clock. "Nice, um... drawings Gerard," I said looking down at the sketchpad in his lap, they were quite disturbing, but... beautiful. There was one, of a skeleton of a butterfly

"Don't look at them, they're not done yet, Mikes" he said, eyes still closed.

I pushed my glasses up to my eyes. Gerard yawned, and opened his eyes, "Six Mikes? Really?"

He said rubbing his eyes awake.

"Sorry, I just... Mom and Da-"

"Don't call him that, he is definably NOT a "Dad"" he interrupted, quickly turning his head toward me, with wide eyes.

"well... They woke me up, and I figured we could hang out until seven or something."

Gerard turned away from me again, and groaned, "Aw, Mikey..."

"Oh, shut up Gee, I'm bored as fuck... pwease?"

"Fine." Gerard scooted back, so he could sit up strait, and grabbed the papers, keeping them aligned so they wouldn't smear.

Built of Lies...

msmagnifico — 2009-07-25T19:03:00Z

Another week, creativity is gone,
another hour, all hope is lost.
The finished, are unfinished,

Wishing chores would go away,
Praying,
that things might go and change.

Another minute, eyes glare my way,
another second, and I've left.
The unworked, are overworked.

I'm tired from nothing,
I'm tried of everything.

Puking isn't pleasant but it makes me pretty.
Cutting isn't fun, but it's an easy escape.

Taking credit,
Making creed,
Faking, let it,
Undo deeds.
Because its all the same to me.....
Because its what the world is made of.

I'm made of this,
I'm made of them,

I'm made of dirt, and lies,
I'm made of scaring skies,
I'll never accept our ties,
but I can't help but know it's there.

It exists.....
Its real............... real full of shit.

I'm just another
drastic, spastic,
superficial, plastic clone.

I'm alone,
On My Own.

But I chose this.
I made me, this way,
construction, from the finest scum.

Lies.

I'm made of nothing more,
Lies,
Let my head hit the floor,
Lies,
with rags, are over-worn
Lies.
and friendship's I have torn.

its all Copyright.
yet I still copy, right?

Yes.

Unoriginal,
with the help of fake friends,
with the kind touch of a hand.
with the breaking of a band.
I cry, and know I cant.

Living in fear of other's minds,
Wondering what could be hidden inside.
I shouldn't know, and that's why it hides.

I'm revoked.
I'm provoked,
I'm easily choked.
By the lies I hate most.

End. End it.
I beg you, to finish me.
I ask you to just leave.
so I can't lie.
I won't be so torn inside.
I could gouge out my sorry eyes.
and burn all that is mine.

I'll End The World...Cause I know you're not going to.

msmagnifico — 2009-07-12T01:23:00Z

I wish I could tare this city down,
Watch them all f*cking drown,
then I could listen to the sound,
Of them screaming, the death of their town.

I swear, I would slit all their throats,
Set them a blaze, then they'd take note,
of all the pain they caused me so,
My smile then, could finally show..

I really want, to watch them bleed,
to kill them off, would be the key.
I'll Let them taste MY reality,
Let's see them begging on their knees.

The taste of lead in all their mouths,
The scene of their guts spilling out,
They'll have to time to even shout,
On this wall, their heads I will mount.

Oh, and they'll look so pretty,
this is equal to what they did to me,
this is fair, it was meant to be,
and I hate them entirely.

The bloodbath I left of this town,
just corpses left, lying on the ground,
I killed them all, no one's around.
finally, Silence, yes, there's no more sound.

But me, they're bones under my boots,
a few hanging from windows, by my noose.
This was the ending they chose to choose,
So I just did what I must do.

I'll walk to the next place like this,
with Equal value.... None of it.
I'll raid until, its all shattered bits,
Because no body cared, when I was a kid.

-------------------------------------------------

This is about no one wanting me as a child, and no one caring that about my opinions, and ideas....

Helpful things ^_^

msmagnifico — 2009-07-11T10:48:00Z

Helpful thing's I've learnt in my time here:
My wishes are in vain, and unreal.
Love is a lie.
No one can love you completely.
Everyone judges others, wheather its consious or sub-consious.
American's might be legally free, but most have caged minds.
The Rich will always stay richer, and the poor will alway's stay poorer.
You will suffer always, regardless of your situation.
Happiness is temporary, and fades quickly.
Most Christian's are just blind Athiests. [that I've met]
Most Catholics are Satanists with masks. [that I've ment]
Men are disgusing, Women are annoying.
Women are emotional, romantic, and controling.
Men are perverse, uncordinated, and stupid.
Races is always a factor, no matter how hard you try to take it away.
Companies are always in it for the money, not the customer.
People are Wasteful.
People don't care about the enviroment.
Most of the world is poor.
People are not good People.
People are awful creatures.
Lying is the most common form of speech.
People are violent.
Observation is the most efficient way of learning.
Learning is NOT a product of being taught.
Being alone is the best form of "down time."
Magic is unreal.
Friendship is temporary, there is no BFF.
Forever has an ending.
Clouds are not solid.
a fear of heights is an irrational fear.
a fear of darkness is an irrational fear.
Black shows mourning.
The Sun is not a good creation.

Last time..Suicide

msmagnifico — 2009-07-11T10:45:00Z

and though, its a short fall.
it's a long ride,
it looks like this will be
the last time I see you again,
at least for a while...
it takes moments to kick in,
this poison.

I now, you not gonna return.
so it looks like this will be
the last time I see you again.
Might as well walk another mile,
pasted the rest stop hours ago.
Because this pain is just moving to slow...

And, I know you'd never know.
Just what your words ment to me,
I resent, what I spent.
taking time to waste it later.
Could you see, this mirrior, torchures me,
I honestly hate Her.

I'd wish to waste away alone.
because it looks like this will be,
the last time I see you again.
oh it looks like this will be,
the last time you see my face...
are you proud,
that you built me up, to tear me down.
I couldn't ever stand the sound..
of your suttle voice telling me lies.

I love you, could never be true,
for I love nothing, only you,
only you, would waste your time,
picking me up and telling me lies.
Though its a long ride.

Might be the first day of my life,
but the last time I see you again,
Again, you try,
to lie,
say "you're mine"
The last cry,
and I died...

--------------------------------

This is about me commiting suicide, and seeing the world for the last time...

A Waste.

msmagnifico — 2009-07-11T10:09:00Z

Didn't write all of this myself, I had help, but its all relevant to my life at this point...

I have a friend, he is mostly made of pain.
And he wakes up, drives to work,
and then straight back home again.

He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper.
I thought it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover.

And I tried to tell him he had a sense
of color and composition so magnificent.
And he said:

"Thank you, please
but your flattery
is truly not
becoming me.

Your eyes are poor.
You're blind.
You see,
no beauty could have come from me.

I'm a waste
of breath,
of space,
of time."

I knew a Girl, she was dignified and true.
And her love for her Boyfriend was one of her many virtues.

Until one day, she found out that he had lied
and she decided the rest of her life from that point on would be to die.

But she was grateful for everything that had happened.
And she was anxious for all that would come next.

But then she wept.
What did you expect?
In that big, old house
with the photos she kept.
"And such is life," she often said.
With one day leading
to the next,
you get a little closer to your death,
which was fine with her.
She never got upset
and with all the days she may have left,
she would never clean
another mess
or fold his shirts
or look her best.
She was free
to waste
away.....
alone.

Last night, my brother he got drunk and drove.
And this cop he pulled him off to the side of the road.
And he said, "Officer! Officer! You got the wrong man.
No, no, I'm a student of medicine, a son of a banker, you don't understand!"

The cop said, "No one got hurt, you should be thankful.
And your carelessness, it is something awful.

And no, I can't just let you go.
And though your father's name is known,
your decisions now are yours alone.
You are nothing but a stepping stone
on a path
to debt,
to loss,
to shame."

The last few months I have been living along side, this couple.
You know, the kind who buy everything in doubles.
They fit together, like a puzzle.
And I love their love and I am thankful

That someone actually receives the prize that was promised
by all those fairy tales that drugged us.

And they still do me.
I'm sick, lonely,
no laurel tree,
just green envy.
Will my number come up eventually?
Like Love's some kind of lottery,
where you scratch and see
what's underneath.
It's "Sorry",
"Nice Attempt",
or "Play Again."
Get lucky.

So I've been hanging out down by the train's depot.
No, I don't ride.
I just sit and watch the people.
And they remind me of wind up cars in motion.
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.

And I want to scream out that it all is nonsense.
All your life's one track,
can't they see it's pointless?

But just then, my knees
give under me.
My head feels weak
and suddenly
it's clear to see
it's not them but me,
who has lost my self-identity.
As I hide behind
these books I read,
while scribbling
my poetry,
like art could save a wretch like me,
with some ideal ideology
that no one could hope to achieve.
And I am never real;
it is just a sketch in me.
And everything I made is trite
and cheap
and a waste
of paint,
of tape,
of time.

So now I'm walking down by the cathedral,
where the floodlights always point up at the steeples.
Choir practice was filling up with people.
I hear the sound escaping as an echo.
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle.
When the voices blend they sound like angels.
I hope there’s some room still in the middle.
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them.
The range is too high,
way up in heaven.

So I hold my tongue,
forget the song,
tie my shoes
start walking off.
And try to just keep moving on,
with my broken heart
and my absent God
and I have no faith
but it's all I want,
Is made of love,
and thats not fun,
cause love burns us,
Its all Become.
A Waste.