a poem that isn’t necessarily going to be seen by its subject

oh damn! goddamnit baby once we could’ve had a real life; living, fucking, smoking weed at our own liberty
but everything does damage and though i tried to help by adding you to my phone plan i’m far from an exception.
it’s absolutely fine, okay, you can blame me, baby, stop crying, blame me! blame me! does that make it easy?
i’ll take all the blame, but i truly still can’t lie to you now, scorpio rising truth falls where ruins run

places in the past i can no longer go because nostalgia takes me to when and where we got weird just for fun
and i know anyone wise knows with death comes rebirth so i should just accept it and things as they are now but
first, just this time, now i’ve got your attention, why do i hurt so and why does it take so forever ever ever long
i look an awful lot like i think you once would’ve cherished but now it’s never time to be more than numb

so with these thoughts and more and less back then i tried to be a person i swear i did my best
i took the appointments and the respite and the psychiatric tests
everything i did was something like i did everything the elders told me like i let so many men do that to me too
you tell me since then i shouldn’t’ve, but where then when i didn’t know, where back then were you?

i know i’m not your problem i was for only just about one year
depending on who you ask we were together forever but you could tangerine-erase me and i’d be tarred and feathered willingly
i swear i never meant wrong but you won’t believe me saying that even as you see me caked in mostly my own fear
i sit here on your doorstep with nothing but shame, excuses, hopes for forgiveness; no idea whether to reconnect, as you can plainly see

but i do not sit at the one outside your home where you taught me how to sit through a movie without flinching
not where you spent so long smiling learning things about me as if i was some magical thing before i became wretched in your head
i’m sure you’ve forgotten them baby, i haven’t forgotten what happened or how to see
i’m in the home you made for us that i never let let go or truly set free, the one you stood outside of smoking cigarettes and talking to an australian girl or perhaps someone else about me

i never thought we weren’t together then or later, not when – i’m so sorry – i left you alone under the hot hot sun
later i didn’t think it meant anything, when you missed my july birthday party, i thought it was just a trivial covid thing that had to be,
i was hurt but it didn’t matter because i still thought then that we’d get married when we were done,
i still hought we were soulmates, now she puts that word on the internet like you’re her pet meat but that’s okay, she’ll see

you are a fighter; an aries ram! but maybe without the hate i let fester when i didn’t even know
she won’t give you reason to leave like my bloated cheating and hurting you in fears of i still don’t know how to correct the muck in the murk
she’s still, controlling, excuses you gave me way back when, don’t seem to go far don’t seem to show
you how bad things get and that there are thousands better than her, me, any shallow fuck, or any flirt,

mental health disorders do things and my brain doesn’t never really did work like it should,
oh yes chronic mental health problems fuck with anything they bring and i never lived like i could
i had potential i had regular life house pets front yard once long ago or maybe just i should
and i was gonna change every policy in my head just for you, my intention was that i genuinely would

but now i cower in the shadows of my own apartment home where you first spoke words to her,
where you called to save her (where you wouldn’t have if not for me) and as i remember that day i suppress a scream,
then i take my swollen hurting tongue and instead i linger in the flavors you’ve left here for me to savor far too much time later
i wish i tasted your sweet honeysuckle words back when they were meant for me, they were once meant only for me

i wish i knew then that honeysuckle could just be sweet, lovely honeysuckle and not poison.
it’s true, i never thought that anything normal would work and i fought and ended things and i was selfish, too
many things i regret but not one word of my truth could even work with you, i froze myself in my own prison
i let my flesh become my petrified cave, i let my hatred see me here until the end of days no matter how few

damn! damn! i’m sorry i once so wholly loved you in such close proximity with only a trick window to view me and how
i kept it all inwards it was beautiful and i thought you did the same thing, i thought you saw the same pristine views
but you showered me with affection instead, i should’ve done the same, i know it sounds odd but i see that only now,
i don’t expect anything, but the truth should be out there. i lived it now i wrote it, hoping one day that you’ll read it and know i now tell you truth

tw sa/sh but what’s the point of having a blog and never using it?

i’m back on my vhs glitch bullshit, and here we go again. i made a vlogmas trailer/intro;

but i don’t know if i’m doing vlogmas, even though i’ve been filming.

i guess i should make my glitchy witch bitch 2021 youtube intro soon.

other videos i made since then include but are not limited to:

(this one got me a kind of okay music talent scout email!)

these were (mostly) so fun to make!

i included SA/rape/domestic abuse helplines in the youtube post for the video where i cover little mix and mention that user9429450 aka my ex casey, who i loved deeply and fucked up around too, but who honestly fucked me up worse after i left another ex for being emotionally abusive and physically threatening/breaking my stuff. he was not what i needed. he sexually assaulted me, which i woke up to, while he was drunk. i’ll include resources below:
https://thehotline.org
https://ncadv.org
in the USA, you can call 1-800-799-7233
crisis text line: text SUPPORT TO 741-741

i’m listening to miley cyrus’ plastic hearts album, and telling you about it for a blog post, livejournal style. but this is not livejournal. this is wordpress. golden g string is a banger; a very good song. i feel like miley cyrus has grown hugely in the past several years.

i have a new boyfriend, and gel nails he paid for (the nail tech was tipped generously and i politely complied when they asked to take my temperature)…everything should be okay. depression and mental illness still has me in its raw-thistle-hands rough-bleeding-wounds-skin choke-hold-kill situation… but i did also switch to a new antidepressant, well, restart an old one; wellbutrin. it has helped me in the past. it works on dopamine, not your serotonin. it does lower your seizure threshold and increase that risk.

i changed my twitter and instagram urls. at first they were private, even ig, but i have uin-privated my mains. so, if you check those, check that out. i updated the links here. i’m sure my stalkers and harassers will be thrilled.

i want to write more. i want to read more. goals for 2020 – or tomorrow?

you can join my discord server, where i spend a lot of my time, automatically if you have discord & have it linked with patreon, and you pledge $1 or more to me/month. this is the link. the url is just zelie, like so many other things.

i love you all. as i vape thc, i wonder about future plans tattooing myself and learning to use a machine and power supply, and shader needles… not something i’d recommend to most… but i am allergic to metal so piercings are difficult (i learned this after piercing my tongue and nipples, oh no!) and besides, my favorite therapist i’ve ever had, who was good at therapy, told me that tattooing myself is an acceptable alternative to cutting myself. so. i win (i always win.)

anyways, mostly i just wanted to update you all! remind me to post more. love u.

xoxo

a short update today

i wrote another poem. this one is in video form – i spoke it aloud to my microphone and i set footage i’d shot to my voice speaking about death, rot, suicide, decay, life.

tw suicide, but here it is:

i might actually be proud of this one.

xxoo
zélie thorn

trying, writing, breathing

I am trying and writing and trying and writing. I am breathing and breathing and bored.
I am dissatisfied with almost everything, from the downright insufferable
To those who are in pain, maybe the worst they’ve known, as it gnawed
At their bones and their joints and their blood cells, plasma running full

Bleeding and getting back up and being full of life, but perhaps too much so
Trying and trying and trying. Am I still writing? I’m not sure.
Running as fast as I can from a past that I miss and I go and I go
Repeating words like it makes me some kind of linguistics connoisseur

Writing and breathing and slowing my heart rate, no longer a wild horse
Hooves on the dry mud and grass as it races alongside its kind
Passion hurts, so we avoid it. We get bored faster and faster of course
Your phone is smart but you won’t be if you never pick up a book, feel its spine

Read the words inside. Kiss the ground and thank it for your pain.
Stop numbing yourself just because it feels better that way
Take small measures to improve your life, every day, work hard to stay sane
Avoid the hospital but avoid harming yourself too, find a method to being okay

I am writing and I am trying and I am writing and I am breathing. I am breathing and I am safe.
The bones of my body are covered in layers of flesh that decays slower than I could ever breathe
Oxygen keeps me alive and it ruins me, my love, my life, not my reason but something to chafe
Did you know there is no point? Yet there is so much to do, so much to see!

Find the good and the bad, one cannot exist without the other. If you can only see one,
Well then hopefully it’s not the bad (hopefully you aren’t teenaged me),
(early-twenties me, current me, me’s in between, oh such fun!)
They delivered the paper parcels and I lied, again, you see.

sucker clown

the joke is on you; the joker’s on you? he’s a canonical rapist, so maybe. maybe i look just enough like harley quinn that i’ll suffer through another rape or several in my lifetime. i think about that, statistically. i think about anorexia mortality statistics, and bpd mortality ones.

the joke is definitely on me. i am a harlequin, and i am but a statistic, yet i sit here, recently diagnosed at the gi specialist with anorexia nervosa.

when i was young, my cousin oa was anorexic. i love her very much to this day. it didn’t scare me then because i didn’t realize how sick she was or how miserable she was or the hell she was putting her fragile body through. i now know these things. i kind of wish i didn’t.

oh, to think about rape! what hate fills my mind; what anger i start to know; what bitterness is forced upon me like a net around a fish being caught! too much trauma – i become the bitter borderline bitch (bbb)… i get flashbacks, but not nearly like i get ptsd from my suicide attempts. or intrusive thoughts of suicide related to attempts i’ve made and attempts i haven’t made (yet? hopefully never i make them?) that is definitely, most definitely related to my ocd. i have obsessive thoughts about suicide & death, i know this now.

funny how the passage of time changes things so. you realize this more and more as you get older. hopefully it stops at 27 or 28, because i can’t take too much more.

listening to charli xcx, again to mention it as if i were on livejournal. again. still my theme does not reflect this, or my last.fm, not that that would be a thing! it of course is not even scrobbling my plays – do i know this? – no, i assume this. – okay, i’ll check. – – – yes, i was right, at least the ones i am mostly playing, on my amazon music player. i signed up for a 90 day trial, and now i am listening to charli xcx sing “i got my friends by my side and that’s all that matters to me” […] “aWOOO”

those capital letters were a typo, but i cannot do anything but love them and keep them there, in what feels like their rightful place within this blog post.

my harley quinn bleach bleach bleached blonde bleachy baby hair is of course, bleached, though not recently. soon i will tone my extensions! for now, here is a deceitfully lit and filtered picture that appears to show my extensions matching my hair, though they are far more yellow:

i’m known to be quite vexing

lol.

okay, that’s plenty for now. i’m filming everything anyways. are you following me on youtube yet?

youtube dot neoncherry dot pink

that above url goes to my youtube page! so. there. enjoy?

xoxo

PS i’m having an involuntary clown moment. leave me alone re: this!!! and that.