Chizuna san's picture


Sweet sweet delusion- how beautiful a thing! It keeps the ignorant encased, the knowing protected. it is an anchor, a savior, and above all a parasite. It bites into the core and sucks dry the well of reality held inside, filling it with it's own seductive mixture of dreams and psychosis, until the well brims over and the host drowns. No matter- there is always another to take it's place.

Chizuna san's picture


it seems like all I bloody well do is bitch these days. therefore, I'm going to put up a list of things I love, things I adore, things I'm grateful for:

1. My friends, nameley Courtney: she's stuck by my insanity for damn close to four years. she's put up with me when everyone else would've told me to fuck off and grow up, or to burn in hell. Thank you.

2. The fact that I am in no way physically or mentally disabled. doesn't get much better than being able to see, hear, breathe, and think on your own.

Chizuna san's picture

what's worse...

I am afraid. I fear myself, and being uncalculated. I fear saying too little, or too much. I fear losing Courtney after high school, cause fuck knows there's no one I care about more. I fear ending up in the same place as my parents- boozed up worked out and in debt for the rest of my miserable life. I fear being alone. I fear that my choice to be blase rather then emotional makes me worse than the creeps at school. I fear that no matter what I do I'm fucked anyway. I fear that she'll never get to see my writing. I fear that I've let too many people down to ever be good again.

Chizuna san's picture


kissing crimson lips
praying for a fix
no drug gets me high
no one can tell me why
my emotions aren't extreme
I fake my hopes and dreams
I lie and lie and lie
no one can tell me why
my soul has lost it's passion
it's gone so out of fashion
I barely feel myself
I think i need some help
soon I'll be just ashes
laying in the grasses
from a fire no one lit
I think i'm done with it
I can't feel my soul

Chizuna san's picture


I watched snow falling
like leaves in the air
I heard it whisper,
calling you there
I saw your shadow
rise in the tide
I saw my life
running to hide

I'm not her anymore
the one at your door
waiting quiet,
begging for more
I'm not a puppy
tracking your heels
I'm smoke and a windscreen
and four spinning wheels
I'm liquid corrosion,
burning through time
I'm free and I'm collared:

Chizuna san's picture


pretty much the only semi-love poem I've ever written...


Walk with me my Butterfly,
Flutter past my ear
Whisper-beat words so sweet
For only me to hear

Walk with me my Butterfly
Flutter past my eyes
Your glit’ring dance doth entrance
And make me feel alive

Walk with me my Butterfly
Flutter through my mind
I can’t escape the maddened fate
Of our lives intertwined

Chizuna san's picture


Why can't I be touched? In three years, the only people who've truly touched me are guys, and those bloody three-leggers only go for the T.A.C. .When was the last time a girl touched me? Desired me?

Chizuna san's picture

Changing shirts: the transition from bi to gay

Imagine for a moment that your sexuality is a shirt. What kind of shirt? Well, if you're straight, it's a loose white cotton T-shirt- breathable, roomy, and commonly seen as regular attire. If you're bi, that shirt isn't so loose anymore. it's a good fit, not quite skintight, but nothing you could wear to the gym, either. Maybe it's black, noticeable, a little different than the norm, but still fairly common. Are you gay? Then without a doubt your shirt is skintight and brightly coloured. It's loud, out there, impossible to hide. and because it's skintight, every time you move, even breathe your silhouette is plainly visible for the world to see, regardless of how bad you want to hide it.

Chizuna san's picture

Things I learned over the weekend...

Things I learned over the past few days....

1. I'm a femme. I love feeling someone's arm around me and being called beautiful. I love heels and dressing girly and feeling even just a little princess-y. And I'm cool with that.

2. Simple things make me happy. Knew this before now, but it finally hit home how much I enjoy the small stuff.

3. I blush. a lot.

4. My dad is the reason I don't drink. I don't like booze anyway, but seeing him drunk is the ultimate deterrent.

Chizuna san's picture


Just found out this lovely girl Brandi is moving to a new city after school today. Fuck. I've wanted to ask her out to coffee all bloody year. Almost did it before Christmas, but I lost my nerve. God, she's so damn beautiful. Pretty smile, spectacular eyes, a wiry little prep/emo girl. And now I've blown it. Sweet fuck.

Chizuna san's picture


Hidden Transition

A gaze
A smile
A chance encounter in the hall

A word
A phrase
A softened “Hello” before class

A touch
A kiss
A forgotten curfew broken

Whoops there goes his fist smashing through her face
With lightning rage devoid of grace
There go his words throwing her around
There goes her soul hitting the ground

And no one can stop

Chizuna san's picture


I held you tenderly
stroked your face
and for a moment
believed we were us

forgive me, my sweet Russian ragdoll
but when I held you,
merely touched your skin
and watched you breathe
I needed you

I shouldn't.
I should let myself let go of you
but tenderness
is stronger than sex
and feircer than a fool's passion

Have you ever been attracted to/ in love with someone who looked completely androgynous?

41% (27 votes)
38% (25 votes)
yes, until i found out their true gender
2% (1 vote)
20% (13 votes)
Total votes: 66
Chizuna san's picture


Dedicated to Leah Paul of Marshall (possibly Lloydminster) Alberta, Canada: I'M NOT STALKING YOU! I swear on everything holy, blashpehemous and in between that I'm not stalking you. I swear, I gave up on you after the failed candygram attempt last December. I literally almost live in the library, and I go through re-routing most days just so you don't have to see me and STILL think I'm after you. Just for the record.

Chizuna san's picture

am i a bad daughter?

Ok, help me out here. my mother's in newfoundland right now, visitng her folks (we live in alberta). she's been gone for almost three weeks. here's the thing: i couldn't care less whether she comes back or not. i've barely givin her a thought since she left. shouldn't i give a shit whther or not she exists?

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