You do not want to miss this.
Hey girls and ghouls. lol lame
Today something happened. I don’t have the time or the energy to explain how it happened but just trust that it was rad. Today, me and a couple of my sick and twisted family members had a GOTH OFF. A ‘goth off’ is obviously a competition to see who is more goth. Please keep up, I really don’t have time to explain the basics… In today’s game, though, it was GOTH OFF: POETRY EDITION. Why else would I like, be telling you this? You’re allowed 20 minutes to see who can write the gothest poem possible. It’s not hard. If you like a challenge you can copy us (as usual) and choose an anti-goth subject and make it goth. Let’s think of some examples, together. You seem like you don’t get it. Okay so let’s say.. ‘sprinkles’? Possibly. But that topic is not really deep enough. ‘Easter’? No, that’s way too easy. Easter is the creepiest holiday there is. Jesus literally rose from the dead. Talk about goth... XD Anyway, you get the point and I’m bored. For our topic we chose ‘butterflies’.
I know you’re picturing it— them in Texas, me in New York, our beautiful, sad, sexy selves working away at our gothic butterfly poems on a Saturday evening. It’s a beautiful day outside but none of us care. Look, how many times do I have to say it? Goth girls don’t play outside. Goth girls stay indoors with our black cats and internal screaming and… u guessed it, poetry. OMG, my lightbulb just went out in my lamp. This is coming at you live from the pitch black. haha sick
So now that you know why the hell this goth/emo/scene girl poetry is showing up in your inbox, please enjoy… or don’t. We don’t give a fuck either way. 💀RAWR
I Eat Them Like Broccoli
By Some Coward Anon
butterflies, butterflies in my head
flying, sputtering around
but they’re all so dead
sad whispering wings, in my ear seems so distant, so unclear
moth man prophecy
I pick your wings off
I eat them like broccoli
moth man prophecy
not a moth but a man made prodigy
you fly up to the sky
but the wind takes you down
you land on my nose
and my tears cry you down
I dream that I’m you
and I’ll just fly away
but I pick off your wings
just to make you stay
so we can be alone and retreat together
unwind the metamorphosis and lie with one another
to dream the dream of once floating again
I’ve taken our wings and this I cannot unmend
Painted Ladies
By Me, Obviously
Painted Lady
Do your dance
Upon my bones
When I rest.
For you know death
The best
12 short months
From egg till West.
Pretty poison
On your wings
Spots and colors
Warning thee.
Protect my flesh
As you did yours
In blackened chrysalis
Amongst the thorns.
And when I wake
With wings like yours
I’ll no longer
Fly alone.
ButterCRY
By My Loser Sister Hannah
Beneath the fallen twigs and leaves
Lies a monarch with torn up wings
And I can’t help but feel like I can relate
to this once-complete beauty.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t take flight
Fragility and transparency are what I try to shake
But butterflies like us weren’t built with strength.
I cupped it in my hands
Threw it up in the air
Prayed she could fly again.
I looked up into the grey sky
Watched spots of orange and black flutter away.
Well, if y’all aren’t slitting your wrists right now I don’t know what else kind of reaction ur having. I hope these poems show you how fucked up and DISTURBED we really are. Until next time…
Also reply to this email letting me know you like mine the best. Thanks.
xXx Alexa Marie xXx
!!SPECIAL GOTH UPDATE!!
My favorite goth of all time replied to my email with her own poem under the topic of ‘butterflies’ because she wanted to show us up and guess what, she did.
Her poem is short and sweet just like her (but like in a hardcore way, duh). And she even attached a photo of her from possibly 2010(?) looking like a Victorian angel from hell. 😈
(I love how distressed the photo is. I can tell her soul is damaged. Like mine.)
I’m Gonna Call It Monarch, Is That Okay, Lexy?
By Lexy Haynes
Monarchs
a name of power and of the dead
14 sunrises
14 sunsets
orange, black, and thoroughbred
your days will end
when wings descend
Truly hurting after reading that. She gets it…
P.S. That tumblr pic of the ribcage with butterflies in it was her desktop background back in the day.
P.P.S. She’s currently a silversmith who makes goth jewelry. Look here.
P.P.P.S. Lexy inspired me to post photos of myself from my dark, dark past. Unfortunately, I don’t have many photos of me during my peak emo/scene days in 2006/2007 but I still have minor goth elements in 2011. Let’s take a look. Keep in mind I hard a dark green bedroom with black furniture pieces and weird vintage children’s book illustrations on the wall…
A little goth lives in all of us…
signing off
I wrote this sometime in 2015 about a year after my mom died. It’s not necessarily well-written but I wish I could tap into the past with ease like I could before. I’ve sort of learned to block it all out. This essay isn’t too much focused on the death of my mom but I do find myself wanting to go there and write about her but something always stops me. I hate that you can’t watch a tv show or movie without one of the character’s having a dead mom. It’s such a cliche at this point, I feel like the topic is off-limits. Reply to this email if you have any thoughts on the subject. Sorry for the stark contrast from Monchhichis to this lol… gonna give y’all whiplash.
I miss going to Blockbuster in a t-shirt and shorts with my long, unkempt hair, and Hannah and mom similarly dressed. Hannah and I would have spent the day being lazy and watching cable at home, and my mom would have changed into her post-work comfy clothes. Friday nights were fun for me and Hannah during the summer because even though we had every day off, Fridays meant mom would get us fast food and movies and we’d spend the night watching them until she fell asleep. Afterwards, me and Hannah might watch another movie or watch one of our taped competition shows. One summer our favorite competition show was Legally Blonde: The Musical, then it was this interior design competition show, then there was The Next Great Artist, and then The Glee Project. God, we lived for those shows. My dad used to get home really late on Friday nights and we’d still be up doing whatever. He’d let the dogs outside and then go to bed. It was comforting when all the birds were in the nest, except Paige wasn’t there- but she never really was home on Fridays. Probably out gallivanting with one of her many friends. I would hang out with friends some days but mostly I would use summer as a way to escape from my social life. That was before I could drive so I didn’t have a car and there wasn’t really anything to do besides go to friends’ houses so I didn’t really feel like I was missing anything. Our summertime lunches consisted of frozen dinners, hot pockets, egg sandwiches, leftovers and diet Coke. Our days consisted mostly of television and Myspace. Me and Hannah would do different crafts when we were bored of that. We’d make collages, calendars, or mailboxes, or we’d look for something to paint from the garage- like a birdhouse or something. We’d decoupage boxes, or attempt to start a scrapbook. Sometimes I’d have to talk Hannah into doing crafts with me but most of the time she wanted to. Some week nights when both of my parents were home, me and Hannah would make popsicles out of different juice and soda combinations and make them try all the flavors. If we were feeling fancy we’d put grapes and other fruits in them. The ones made from juice were always good, but frozen Sprite doesn’t taste much like anything. If it wasn’t too dark out, yet, Hannah and I would sit outside in the back of my dad’s truck and talk and sing songs together. My parents were super paranoid we were going to get kidnapped so we could never stay outside too late. We were always bummed when they’d come outside to get us just as it was starting to get fun. We’d come in smelling like outside with dirty feet. I remember I was only allowed to ride my bike up and down the street, but for some reason I still had fun. Although, I would never do it for too long because Hannah couldn’t ride a bike and I’d want to get back to hanging out with her. We tried rollerblading but neither of us liked that too much. We weren’t very active those summers haha but you know, that wasn’t our idea of fun. Sometimes on the weekend my mom would take us to go swimming and that was always a big production and a lot of fun. On my dad’s days off we’d go to putt-putt or bowling or to play pool. Sometimes he would take us to the mall and we’d attempt to ice skate but most of the time we would just get Starbucks and watch other people ice skate and bet on who would fall down the most. Sometimes he’d try to take us to play tennis or basketball but one of us would always end up frustrated or crying. My poor dad probably wished he had boys. Those summers felt so boring but I’d miss them as soon as they were gone. In retrospect those were some of the best times of my life. The most I ever had to worry about was my parents fighting or my mom yelling at me to clean the house. We were all together and happy and things were simple. I would kill to be able to relive those summers. I would kill to have her back.
I know you didn’t sign up for this but that’s life, honey. I suppose I could have posted this to my tumblr from 2009 but readership is way down. So here we are, make yourself comfortable, and Welcome to my new blog! I post once every 7 months! And maybe one day I’ll even post another poem.
Today I woke up with Monchhichis in my head so I thought I’d scour the internet just to weigh my options in case I ever decided to purchase one for adoption. In my search I found aplenty of beautiful Monchhichi from young (Bebichhichi) to old (grandma and grandpa Monchhichi), from vintage to brand new, from disassembled to completely in tact! I posted Bebichhichi to my Instagram story with a poll asking whether or not I should buy her for a mere $18.99. (Just know that if I’m posting a poll on social media 9 times out of 10 I’ve already decided on ‘yes’ and I’m just looking for some reenforcement.) So when a couple of ‘no’s rolled in from my boring ex-coworker (we both got laid off) and my slightly less-boring ex-coworker who decided today she was feeling “practical” and asking “aren’t you still on unemployment?”, I wasn’t thrilled by their hateration, but I wasn’t necessarily shocked. But shocked I was, when my ex-best friend’s ex-crush (wow I have SO many exes) who I don’t even follow back on Instagram (embarrassing!) decided to vote NO to buying Bebichhichi… Like okay wtf did I ever do to you? The only first-hand things I know about him, besides the fact that he went to my college and my friend used to have a crush on him, are 1) he once threw an all-denim party and 2) he once told a story about how 4 to 6? of his front teeth are fake because he knocked them out in some sort of car accident? roller blading accident? something like that. Now, make what you will of that information, I’m actually making him seem sort of like a fun guy, which is not my intention. My intention is to show you that I barely know him!!! Completely stumped as to what would compel a man to vote no on a poll of a practically random lady whomst doesn’t even follow him back on that platform, but most importantly to vote no on Bebichhichi (I just can’t wrap my head around it), I set off in search of some answers. And I’m serious when I say I was genuinely concerned for the guy! Was this a cry for help? Was he in dire need of some attention? So like any other concerned peer, I decided to judge the state of this stranger’s mental health by the wittle pics he posties on the internet :) . I went to my InstaPoll and clicked on the grim list of naysayers, and there he was, teeth and all, his smug little image glaring at me. I was lead to his private Instagram page (Boring) and, get this, his bio says, and I quote, “nah.” Just like that. All lower case and with a period. Truly how boring must you be to put “nah.” in your bio?And that’s when it hit me, this is one of those ‘no’ people! The type that gets a thrill from crushing others’ dreams, putting people down, and saying no to opportunities. Because why risk rejection when you can be sad all by yourself! Look, I’m not saying don’t ever say no. I’m not even saying not to vote ‘no’ on polls. I’m all for expressing opinions, likes and dislikes, I engage in hate as well…
But to say no to a little stuffed monkey-baby that obviously brings a great deal of joy to a 26-year-old woman you barely know on the internet, is truly beyond me. I guess all we can do is pray…
This post was inspired by the perfect header photo up there^. I found it online at this website made by Heike Andrea Grote. I hope she doesn’t mind that I borrow her image. It’s so perfect in every way. Also, check out this masterpiece from her YouTube channel.
XOXO, Alexa
The Monday morning man
Sits with his bird in a cage
In the park
To get some air and sun
A little slice of freedom
In their confinement
Oh how fine it is
To bask in the sun
If even only for a minute
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