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Sometimes

prolixin — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 18:25:42 CDT

Sometimes I hear the sound of a bolt of lightening
Strike any tree, and
As I walk through the darkness of day,
I only can envision
A glimpse of hidden sunshine,
A gray cloud covering the tips of the treetops, and
A spotted green snake slithering through the grass that
Blankets the tortuous path I walk every day…
Sometimes I hear the thunder crash, as if
Some lost and troubled angel
Hovering about the black sky above me has
Expressed her inexplicable rage, or
God has angrily snapped his fingers-
Sometimes I see clouds circulating beneath my feet, or
I see hell rising above my head, and
Many times, as I walk along this wooded trail,
The whole world follows me,
Laughing at my thoughts-
An evil eye from heaven focuses on my every move, and
Sometimes I feel myself hanging with a noose about my neck,
Ironically from the most magnificent and statuesque tree
In all of the forest-
When fear overcomes and apprehension about
Tomorrow rolling over the mountains invades my baffled mind,
I try to hide behind the ominously approaching thunderclouds-
God never promised me that I would find a rainbow and
The demons that live inside my mind
Have never promised that they would stop their
Incessant vociferations-
The whole world follows me as tomorrow
Blatantly turns to today-
I stand, but never alone beneath a maple tree,
Capturing each moment as it falls encased inside a
Single raindrop that could have been a tear
Cried for yesterday’s sorrows-
Sometimes when that bolt of lightening strikes,
I quietly whistle a happy tune-
It has been said that music calms the troubled soul, and as
I hide from this frightening world
Beneath the clouds below my feet,
I pray for a touch of heaven to chase
This terrifying world away-
Though God never promised me a
Rainbow or a prayer,
Just a ray of light would be a welcome sight,
To dispel the darkness of this world
That terrorizes me –
Light, love and fear-
What truth-filled words they are…

Claudia Krizay

Delusional

prolixin — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 18:21:20 CDT

Delusional

Masked by the sun,
What do I see-?
Too many faces
Not hidden in this world,
Two, four, six-
I count every star- no agony erased,
Your smile has me weeping
Too many faces, my heart beats with fear-
Two, four and six-
Counting the stars,
The universe broadens as
I run towards the ocean and
Follow the moon-
I lost the sun yesterday, only because
This is not reality, and
Too painful to see-
That is what they told me-
I was promised flowers and
Only weeds have grown-
Too many faces-
I can no longer cope-
Masked by the sun,
But still I can see that
There are two many faces and
This world has been turned
Upside down…
No hope for the weary,
No promises for those who are
Lost in another place in time-
Too many faces,
I am counting the stars-
Looking towards the heavens
Only because
I see too many faces,
Stars before my eyes-
Crying tears of desperation,
I count every one-
One, two? -I have just lost count?
I am lost in a maze,
Too many faces and this world,
I am afraid to say has just
Disappeared…

Claudia Krizay

Guiding Light

prolixin — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 18:16:07 CDT

Guiding Light

My heart rests upon a ledge tonight
My thoughts are screaming
Loudly-
I can hear my silent tears as they
Fall upon the edge of time-
I hold a candle
Before my eyes,
Somewhere and somehow
Its flame has suddenly been snuffed out-
This candle that guides me
Through each and every day
Although,
As the day goes on
That flame has set my soul afire-
That flame has been my guiding light that
Fear and rage has rekindled-
Tonight I stand holding in my hands
This candle, unlit and
A key to a broken lock-
Light, love and trust-
A trilogy of terror-
My heart,
Rests upon a ledge tonight-
My thoughts have been misconstrued
By a world in which
I have lost all faith in-
A feather in the wind, am I or
A planet revolving around some distant star-
-Perhaps a fallen tree in the woodlands,
Invisible to passers by-
Listen; listen
Can you hear the sounds of
The illumination of my shattered dreams and
The cries of the ghosts of my nightmare-
Someone has stolen my hopes as
Quickly as the sleight of the devil’s hand and
All that is left is the mask I wear upon which
I have pasted a frozen smile-
I hide behind a mountain of fear and
My tears fall like a meteor shower –
I hold a candle that only burns
Before dawn creeps over the horizon-
In these moments my muse is silent-
Light, love and trust-
Somewhere have lost themselves along the wayside-
The candle I hold between my hands
Has seared my soul and
I stand-alone in my delusional castle
I have built for myself-
It has been said that
Some build palaces in the sky
In which to place their hopes and dreams-
I have placed my dreams in mine and have
Chosen to live in them forever-
As I revolve around that special star
In some far-off galaxy-
And although my thoughts are screaming-
Dawn has just crept over the horizon and
I have opened my heart to let the light shine through
If only for a moment
In time…

Claudia Krizay

The Party

prolixin — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 18:14:42 CDT

The Party

Laughter filled the room;
Streamers decorated the ceiling-
My fourth birthday,
I knew I was beautiful in
My favorite party dress-
Lights dimmed as
I blew out the candles
On my cake-
Cherry frosting upon
Angel food,
My very favorite-
Inside I was
Echoing my mother’s smile-
I was a different star,
Though bright and
Beaming with happiness –
I loved myself-
A different star,
Though too young to fathom
Life’s meaning,
Too naïve to
Read the pain behind my mother’s smile-
Trees would shed illumination upon
My inner space,
Surrounding our New England mansion and
Their branches tossed about in the
Late January wind-
One day that star’s light would burn out,
That I could not then foresee-
Lying on a hard blue mattress in a seclusion room,
Only ten years later,
My life would transform to
The land of the dead-
Rain would inundate my inner space,
As my mother would lie motionless in her bed,
Covers rumpled and nobody cared-
Nobody cared that I was screaming inside, and
Cut off from reality-
Streamers adorned the ceiling in a different place-
My 15th birthday spent listening to records
On a scratched phonograph in a hospital solarium,
The foul stench of urine permeating the room as
I, lost in another time and space,
Blew out the candle on the stale Hostess cupcake as
Other patients sang “Happy birthday”
Each in their own key-
I hardly remembered
My favorite party dress, or the cherry frosting because
The anger and pain I felt
Were just to overpowering-
The late January wind
Rattled the cracked window in the seclusion room-
“Happy birthday” became the saddest song-
I was hardly beautiful in
That seersucker hospital gown,
The hatred I felt towards myself
Was becoming as overwhelming as
The rage I felt towards my mother-
For giving birth to me-
This institution was a far cry from
That New England mansion and
I was weeping inside bitter tears of despair-
The lights were dimming, and I didn’t care-
Because my world had become so dark already that
I could not distinguish reality from unreality, and
My mother’s smile was
None but a shadow, which has
Vanished in the cruel late January wind…

Claudia Krizay

Fear.

chel-c14 — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 00:15:05 CDT

There is no abstract available for this page revision.

I hate schizophrenia

prolixin — Thu, 26 Feb 2009 10:06:30 CST

I Hate Schizophrenia

I hate schizophrenia-
Spending months in a locked ward,
Pacing up and down low piled carpeted halls
Between therapy groups, and those nothing to do weekends.
Oh, how I hate schizophrenia.

I hate having schizophrenia,
Having to take at least seven medications
To get me through the day, and to take Ativan
To assure me a normal night’s sleep.
I hate having schizophrenia.

I hate this illness I have called schizophrenia.
Taking the Seroquel and Abilfy that make me ravenous so
I feel that I must spend the day vigorously exercising to
Keep my weight at a normal range, and to live on rabbit food.
How I hate this illness called schizophrenia.

I hate my terrible illness, schizophrenia.
If I don’t take multiple medications,
I hallucinate, get paranoid and delusional,
Have sleepless nights after nights, and
I have no motivation.

I have schizophrenia and how angry it makes me feel.
Nurses, so called friends and therapists half my age
Treat me as if I were a child.
I am ill so I cannot be trusted.
I have schizophrenia and how angry it makes me feel.

I hate schizophrenia.
It is an illness that has a stigma attached to it, and
It has a grip on me.
It impairs my functioning and
It mars my relationships.
I hate schizophrenia.

I despise and resent having this terrible illness.
All of my relatives are well adjusted and highly functional.
I was born the black sheep; Why am I this way?
It’s so unfair!
When I think of it tears stream down my face.
I must have removed my glasses a hundred times today to
Wipe the tears away, yet
They keep on flowing.
I despise and resent having this terrible illness.

I don’t like being diagnosed with schizophrenia.
Even in the darkness of the night on heavy medications
Voices haunt me.
I just want people to leave me alone.
I want to run away from the world and
Escape to a world of my own.
I don’t like being diagnosed with schizophrenia.

My name is not “schizophrenia”.
It is the name of this illness I was cursed with.
I am so angry now I could scream and hit the walls.
But the staff would come and grab me and throw me in seclusion, if I did.
Yes, that empty room with a hard mattress in a corner on the floor.
I could destroy myself.
I suppose all of us who have schizophrenia feel this way sometimes.

I suppose what upsets me the most is what
People say about me:
“She is schizophrenic.”
I am not “schizophrenic.”
I am a human being, flesh and blood with an illness.
I am a person, NOT an illness.

It is a constant struggle for all of us who have schizophrenia, to
Be a label, not a person.
That is the biggest problem with people in this world.
They label us, who are ill,
They don’t see us as just people.
And people we are, inside and out, not diseases.

Claudia Krizay

CLozapine

prolixin — Wed, 25 Feb 2009 21:09:17 CST

Anonymous
Oct 1 2008, 1:11 PM EDT
I need scrapbookers and Rubber Stamper's!
Visit: http://www.jeansartdolls.com and register. Ask me for an application by PMing me or e-mail me at: victorianstamperjean@yahoo.com
You can also post 50 posts in the forum and place your artwork in the gallery and I will consider you for a place on the Jean's Art Dolls Design Team.

Thanks so very much, Jean/ Owner of Jads.

P.S. Experienced or Just starting out. Jads is the place for you!!

prolixin
1 minute ago
you can buy rubber stamps at the CVS

prolixin
1 minute ago

"I need scrapbookers and Rubber Stamper's!
Visit: http://www.jeansartdolls.com and register. Ask me for an application by PMing me or e-mail me at: victorianstamperjean@yahoo.com
You can also post 50 posts in the forum and place your artwork in the gallery and I will consider you for a place on the Jean's Art Dolls Design Team.

Thanks so very much, Jean/ Owner of Jads.

P.S. Experienced or Just starting out. Jads is the place for you!!"

i wouldn't be so stupid

Us

prolixin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 23:12:45 CST

Us

I once stood alone, then,
I followed your lead.
I slipped through your grasp, and
Fell into oblivion.
It was just you and I together,
Gazing into each other’s eyes,
Just you and I …dazzling they were, those eyes,
Piercing and lingering were our glances-
Our smiles, frozen, and
Your countenance, pallid, but
Not lacking expression-
That was the day I tried to
Pick up the pieces of our nightmare, after
Too much hail had come down.
We had both slipped and fallen, and while I rose to my feet,
You lay quietly and motionless.
I walked into the twilight sky, as
The sun was setting, and simultaneously
The full moon was mounting over the horizon…
You stood and walked slowly, following in my footsteps, as
The sky blackened-
The man- in- the- moon laughed and laughed as
You followed my lead, and in that moment
I broke into a run. You tiptoed slowly behind me, until
I looked over my shoulder and saw that
You had disappeared somewhere inside the hovering fog.
I may have picked a bouquet of wilted dandelions for you and
Handed them to you, if I were to hear you calling my name, and in turn,
You would pick for me wild violets and forget- me –knots,
Though I never would have surmised-
I can still hear your tears
Splashing, one by one onto the pond where
We used to meet.
I stand here alone, never again to follow your lead, although
I f I could I would
Give to you every flower I could pick, and together
We would walk into the starlit night,
I can now feel your pain, cry your tears and look up towards the sky, as
The man- in-the- moon would grin wryly and just
Keep on laughing and laughing…

Claudia Krizay, and then-

Encounters

Stars cascading,
Sometimes one can see God’s children circle dance around the sun.
As the moon shies away from sky lightening-
Was this the first day?
I encountered your deadpan face,
Though bitterly weeping
Before a broken, hand held looking glass,
Someone is visiting from afar,
Earth-toned, not swarthy
Is the tree, behind which you hide your elf-like countenance?
Your impish grin no longer entices,
The ocean-blue sky
Reeks with the coming of age
Gangrenous-green as mold,
Its stench, putrid, as such,
Overpowers any nuances.
I hear ancient music, as I walk to staccato rhythm
As some walk with the Lord,
As you asked, madam, I told you, I threw your letter away…
Children circle dance around the sun,
As all I can do is rest beneath the shade of the crooked old sequoia tree.
Within nature’s garden, I close my weary eyes,
Soundly resting,
Escaping in my dreams
Of that place beyond the sun,
For I am the center of the circle dance-
I do believe, that..
Stars cascade from the sky,
I do not walk with the Lord,
I control the world,
God’s children circle-dance around me…

Claudia Krizay

In This Life

prolixin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 17:23:53 CST

In This Life

In this life I could have been
Someone great or wonderful Just like everybody wants to be, although I never wanted or cared to be.
I could have climbed a tree until I reached the sky
Way up there upon the highest branch for everyone to see,
Or to be as an eagle soaring above the rest
I have been told I could have been,
Although-
Somewhere along the way I hurt myself
Not intentionally, although
This I have done before, I must confess,
Only because inside of me
Something went wrong some time ago,
Perhaps even before I came into this world.
I cannot remember the day
I began to lose myself,
It happened just so long ago, although
As far back as I remember
I was so afraid of everything.
One day when I ws fourteen or so,
I also became fearful of everyone, and it was then
The world fell out from under me
I cried and cried for hours until
Everything inside of me
Wracked with pain and misery,
It seemed that suddenly after that I
Began to hear things nobody else could hear,
And believe things that others said could never be
And it seemed that on that say,
Suddenly –
I left this world and
Stopped speaking to everyone-
Except for some far away people who lived inside of me,
Not so far away from me, however-
People only I could see,
People who only talked to me,
I never left my room until
Somehow I found myself
Locked in an unfamiliar place
With other people just like me.
This was nearly forty years ago, but in all honestly
All I can say,
I still cannot climb any tree and touch the sky,
I have been called an eagle with a broken wing
Who has tried so many times to fly and
Every time I lift my wings to fly, I fall to the ground once more.
Now I walk through the woods
Every single day and look up at the treetops,
Not even wanting to climb up there, for
I have found a different way to love these trees and
A way to enjoy a deep-blue sky-
I will never be great or wonderful,
I have no place in reality,
But have made the woods my sanctuary,
I cannot fly, but I can walk,
I may never reach the sky-
But I have found some peace of mind in simple things, yes,
Like just looking at the treetops and the sky and enjoying them- and
That is all right with me.

Claudia Krizay. (Prolixn/schizoclaud)

Photos by Prolixin

prolixin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 17:02:51 CST

Shattered Dream

prolixin — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 16:55:50 CST

Shattered Dream

I can grasp your pain and helplessness as I
Gaze into your eyes,
Round as globes, though always tear-filled,
Masking the green,
Turning hazel in the sunlight’s shadows…
Hidden behind mountains of despair,
That façade you often don –
Friendly and with that smile,
Broad and beautiful as a river, meandering –
Often a lead-hued cloud would pass between our glances-
I have often tried with my hand, outstretched
To touch your spirit, lithe and vulnerable as it can be-
Your strength that comes from your love and faith in God, although
Fragile as the dance of a yearling it may be-
I had never known love until the day that you
Pulled the blinds open– though slightly, to
Let me touch your heart.
Light has always scintillated within your pupils as
Mine- blackened with fear and suspicion of the rest of the world – although-
You I never feared.
I was none but a young fawn alive in the wild
Leaping away from a world that still terrifies me-
I lived alone in a world I had erected for myself and had
Built out of my fondest reverie as
I had long ago lost my flagging grasp on reality.
This planet was spinning too quickly for us-
We opened windows and doors to allow love to enter, and
With trepidation, we would close them again.
Your kiss was mesmerizing as your petal-soft lips would
Brush against mine in such a cherished and non-threatening way-
I recall, though sadly, the night that cloud darkened and
Thunder had clapped between us.
You chained the door behind you and left me standing, terrified.
I can still hear the screaming of your tears echoing throughout the room-
I kept my stance as a stone never weathered, as
I held within glaciers of tears, never cried.
I recall the sight of your coffee-colored tresses
Falling around your naiad- like countenance –
So lovely and feminine in all of your ways-
You are still the passing comet that enlightens my universe- as confined as it may be-
I had tried and tried to push stones aside to make a home for us.
I held in my cupped hands petals of a carnation,
Red as the rage that tears me apart inside, always present in my own pllight-
You are more than a carnation to me, but a peace-rose,
Swaying gracefully in a spring zephyr…
I shall never open my gateway to let amity enter again.
Falling hailstones are keeping me safe inside my own phantasmal world where
I can converse with the voices inhabiting my mind.
Disillusioned, I gaze outside my window as I watch snowflakes
Falling and melting before they touch the ground and
The very thought of your presence shall always make my
Tormented heart keep on beating though in a bittersweet and remorseful way.
Solitude has never felt so safe since I have locked myself in
My own small world forever, as it spins madly about my eternal star.
I hope that when I die I shall leave behind me all of the
Nightmarish memories of my delusive world-
You are still my star, though from some different galaxy.
Face to face we met and hand in hand we were joined and it felt so right but became so wrong, and often I have wondered how love and pain so miserably clashing
Never moved me to tears until this day…
I hold agony, wrath and guilt pent up inside my breaking heart-
How these feelings have wronged us?
My nightingale, my beautiful wild rose,
A part of me shall always cherish you, my brightly blazing comet always present –
Somewhere in the back of my mind sheds a little light upon my inner space.
I have taken each and every moment in time to turn back the clock and to
Collect the fallen foundation we once stood upon, though unstable,
Our eyes were blinded by fate and hope for a future we both desired.
My soul shall remain padlocked inside my mind where the only life I can envision is to
Live in my own small world as it rapidly spins revolutions around my own bright star-
Light as dim as a votive candle with the hope that I may continue my solitary walk
Through the darkness after that flame burns out, and that
Dreams, memories and hope for both of us shall always persevere-
Our worlds, so complicated and so very different as they may be-
Light, love and prayer- Oh, such beautiful and promising words, they are…

Claudia Krizay

Psychosis

prolixin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:58:38 CST

Psychosis

Falling from the heavens I can only envision
My hemorrhaging heart and my thinking
Are running overtime… I try as always and
None but consecutively to reach for t he sky
Blood is cascading, I cannot arrest-
My eyes are kaleidoscopic and spiraling
Downward then upward
My lips blacken as my tongue forks outward hot as grease, spattering…
Serpentine, as is chartreuse as its mottled skin,
Tighter than a drum, gently tapping,
Sound accelerates then pounding erratically
Louder the decibels heightening
Eyes are spinning in a vicious circle around and around
Where they stop, nobody could even begin to imagine?
It hardly matters because even if my arm could
Reach out from the top of my head,
Grasping at eyes, those eyes-
Bloodshot as the irises, magenta as their pupils
Spinning with out stopping, arrested in space, spinthariscopic-
Whirling dervishes, I cannot reach, as mesmerizing as the day I perished inside, as Electrons spliced in time, abbreviated: less than a nanosecond-perhaps-
A bleeding heart and a brain
Sizzling out of control,
Rainbows have disintegrated, no hope for the weary,
I am less than surviving upon a very slow joyride,
Drowning and sinking, hissing and smoldering, and
Nothing matters any more because after all-
Aren’t we all just drifters and
Going no place, merely existing in
This theatrical sea of life,
Never ending, never abating?
Louder, louder, louder, louder -I can no longer persevere…

Claudia Krizay

Cat

prolixin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:44:15 CST

Life in the Land of the Dead

prolixin — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 00:33:31 CST

Life in the Land of the Dead

I live in the land of the dead.
Upon this path I have taken my walk alone.
My feet would hit the ground with hard and steady steps.
I hear cymbals crashing and the tuneful rhythm of the beating of drums.
I have lost myself along the way.
A lost and crying soul I am,
Living in a sea of shattered tranquility,
Only a shadow, I have silently slipped away through
An open crack in the back door of this place,
This place where the carpet is chartreuse and urine stained,
The stench of perspiration reeks here in this room, and
Tiled walls are sallow and filthy-
I sit upon this chair, its upholstery sadly torn,
Foam rubber poking out of every hole-
Old men, zombie like, overmedicated pace up and down the room and
A pasty –faced young woman, wrists bandaged-both of them…
I can hear the piano playing out of tune in the solarium.
My ears are crying out for some peace and some silence-
“Listen, listen,” I whisper hoarsely – a cry for help-
I am a captive in my own world, as I
Climb cumulus clouds in my worm-infested brain,
Cotton filled meninges…
The Italian woman screams and bellows,
Locked in seclusion -
They took me into that room last night,
Kicking and screaming- it is her turn now to suffer.
The bitter taste of liquid Thorazine lingers upon my tongue –
Masked by the saccharine-sweet taste of the glaze on the
Doughnut I was fed for breakfast-
Cow troughs of them, a young girl bitterly weeping,
A middle-aged African woman, dazed, crochets
A pair of green slippers- so it appears-
This is the land of the dead,
I am living in the land of the dead.
I do not eat. I wish to harm myself.
Playing cards and broken chessmen strewn all over the floor.
Scratched records screeching on the phonograph-
I can hear them now.
I hear voices, non-gendered, they want me to die.
No one else hears them- so I am locked in this place.
This is the land of t he dead.
I am living in the land of the dead. Crap-chewing monsters,
Everywhere I look, but at the clock-
It is only one PM-
Bells keep chiming, as that decrepit ping-pong ball rallies on-
I stuff torn sheets of notebook paper hopelessly in my ears,
Trying to muffle the sound, so I can sleep?
I cannot sleep. not in this place-
The land of the dead,
This is the place they brought me to.
No one goes to heaven anymore.
This place is lower than the hell beneath my feet.
Beat the drums slowly, very slowly.
My time has come.
Everybody dies.
My sprit once young and alive has perished in this place-
Dead, dead, dead, a concept so bittersweet,
I keep walking my solitary walk,
Up and down then up again-and
Down the yellowed linoleum floors,
Thud, thud, and beat the drums slowly-
The gates to hell have opened to let me in.
I sink into the land of eternal fire,
Urine stained and dark as the fear that has wrought my
Dissolving soul,
Doomed to be trapped her forever, I am…
It is five after one, and the time bomb keeps ticking.
I ride upon a suicidal roller coaster, day in and day out-
No one goes to heaven anymore.
I have traveled to the eternal land of the dying,
In this place no one shall ever see the light of day again-
A glimpse of the sun would be a taste of heaven-
I still can only taste the bitterness of liquid Thorazine
Tickling my tongue-god has forsaken me and
Locked me in this place.
I have never seen heaven before and it is only ten past one
My cry for help has been silenced.
I do not speak and only angels sing.
I cannot see beyond these dingy, yellowed walls.
This place is my graveyard, and
Hell has succumbed and taken over me.
There is no room for levity in this dungeon-
I am none but a ghost and only angels sing in heaven-
I hear their voices – the closest I can get to heaven-
And those voices they say aren’t even real, so-
I continue my solitary walk up and down these halls-
Here in the land of the evil dead,
I belong, Sadly, I belong…

Claudia Krizay

2

chel-c14 — Wed, 14 Jan 2009 07:46:36 CST

Pain... is what i should be feeling
yet numb is what i am.
I sit and watch the bleeding,
i won't stop it, even if i can.

I take the razor yet again
and push it to my skin.
The scars i'll have to explain,
but i just can't let them win.

The blade like a flame on my pale limbs,
i smile and take in the heat.
I do it out of hatred for him,
loving every minute because i know he feels defeat.

He screams and shakes in rage,
yet i can see the terror in his cold dark eyes.
I stand my ground, i tell myself i am brave.
I can't let him see my mask, let him see my lies.

I tell him i'll kill myself,
put myself six feet under.
Maybe he's right maybe i do need help,
i mean, one can't help but wonder.

I lay in bed tears streaming down,
clutching to my covers for comfort.
I can't stand having him around,
please someone stop this hurting.

The mistakes he punishes me for, are not my own.
They are not ones made by me!
But the fight is now full blown.
I cannot go back to therapy.

What have i done to earn this torture?
What crime could be harsh enough to earn me this hate?
How can i take this one day more?
I need out, for my sake.

Poems by Chel-C Bland

chel-c14 — Tue, 06 Jan 2009 15:41:09 CST

The breaking of my heart no one's fault but my own,
I let my head fall in sorrow.
I always knew I'dd die alone,
and that I'll wake up lonely tomorrow

All this time, we were living a lie
we just couldn't make it work
i never wanted to say goodbye
but you did it easily, and with a smirk

How could you do this to me?
Just rip my heart in two!
The tears in my eyes easy to see.
the tears i cry for you

I gave up my best friend for this,
and my girlfriend as well.
i guess the ignorance was bliss
but now I'm going through hell

The fights too much to handle.
the tears too hot to fight.
the relationship was a gamble.
one that took all my might.

they look at me carefully,
eyes full of sympathy and pity.
we entered this hastily,
and should have gotten out quickly.

Don't you see my pain?
Understand the hurting?
Really what did you gain
by causing me this suffering?

I guess this is the end
of a love so great and romantic.
Goodbye my only friend
and hello to a world so tragic...

Malanaks

Malanaks — Tue, 14 Oct 2008 07:28:21 CDT

umm...

Hi, I'm Malanaks.
I'm probably a terrible artist compared to most here but I'll try my best.
I've made some site banners like the one below which i tried very hard to keep simple for his site.
I work with paint (the program, not the sploshy painty stuff).
I've drawn a few sketches I've been very happy with but they were all in my school books because that's where i do most (if not all) of my drawing.
..... Should i even be here? Is this site only for pros?
Anyway, I just made this for my friend's wiki (It's a good wiki have a look) you be the judge.

Some of my Digital Artwork

schizoclaud — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 21:37:47 CDT

There is no abstract available for this page revision.

Denial

schizoclaud — Thu, 21 Aug 2008 21:37:13 CDT

Denial

Along the cobblestone path I walked
Somewhere along the way
I lost myself.
It hardly mattered,
I climbed a tree or two,
And there were wildflowers growing everywhere,

In the springtime the sun would glance at me
From behind the cirrus clouds
Perhaps only to greet me
Upon this path I walked every morning
I walked alone, and in the summertime,
I became a patron saint.

Enamored of the deer, I was, and
I adored the blue jays,
I sang with the mockingbirds.
I danced with the evergreens that
Swayed in the cool autumn breeze,

In my solitude
I would walk along this path in the wintertime,
Through the falling snow I could envision
Miles ahead of me
Branches and branches of barren trees encased in ice,
I would wonder if this is what heaven others spoke of-
Too spectacular to be deemed reality-
I whispered back to the voices that spoke to me
Only I could hear.

Somewhere along the way I had lost myself.
It hardly mattered
I was a child of the wilderness
The deer, the evergreens and the barren maple trees
And the voices inside my head,
Together, we became a family.

It is late summer, and
The air is sultry.
The woods are a place that I find peace and harmony
I hear the locusts screaming,
The chanting of the crickets, and the song of the nightingale, as the
Evening would set in.

I have been called a wounded spirit, a lost soul.
I hear voices whispering above the locusts’ screaming,
I feel my tears falling with the rain which
Has just begun to fall from the approaching storm.

A storm is raging inside of me.
Somewhere along the way
I lost myself.
It hardly matters though, as
Wildflowers are growing everywhere,
Canadian wild geese are flying home in V formation.
I have fallen in love with the splendor of the woodlands.
I talk back to the voices that speak to me gently and unobtrusively.

Somewhere along the way,
Somebody found me and snatched me from my home space,
Took me away to a cinderblock building, and closed the door behind.

Now I find myself walking up and down a long hall-
The floors are tiled, and the walls are white and endless,
Everything is antiseptic- clean, and
Strange people, dazed and sleepy-eyed are pacing up and down the halls,

Somewhere along the way,
I became lost, and then found.
I miss the evergreens, the sun and the song of the whippoorwills, and even the
Screaming of the locusts.
But the voices inside my head and I –
We are still a family…

Claudia Krizay

Vomiting Purple Snakes

schizoclaud — Tue, 05 Aug 2008 09:12:22 CDT

Vomiting Purple Snakes

Eating too many purple snakes was as
Taking an overdose of Depakote, or
Sucking blood from an auricle of my heart.

The sodium and potassium in
My axons went wild, and
Those dendrites synapse like mice in a can!

Reflux disease cannot handle those snakes, and
Alas, my suicide attempt had failed, because
I regurgitated those vile purple snakes!

Claudia Krizay (schizoclaud)