Table of Contents
- Home
- Introduction
- Where Goths Come From - Neef
- The Watcher - Hobbes
- The Resurrection Shuffle - Barbarella
- Cassandra - Cosey Mo
- Drunken Old Bastard - Sandro
- Alcohol - Trayce
- Shadows - Entrippy
- Entropy - Kage-Ryu
- Is There A Point - Trajik
- Whispers - Kitsune
- Confessional - Sandro
- Garden - Entrippy
- Radio - Cam
- Cold Spell - Nikolai
- Slices - Neef
- A Bottle of Something Strong - Jraff
- The Light Fades - Tim
- Rain - Tim
- Self Help - Gothic Gallae
- Cato - Trajik
- Addiction/Fragment - Trayce
- Heal Thyself - Nikolai
- Shattered - Hobbes
- Travelling Song - Solitaire
- Distance - Stranger
- Legacy - Stranger
Trayce lets her obsessions show way too much in her writing. Not that she is obsessed with any of the things listed in the following piece. Oh no siree.
ADDICTION/FRAGMENT
Tracy Forbes
"Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage"
Smashing Pumpkins
Manic Depression
Daniel is hitting the walls again, hitting the walls with fists too fragile for brick. I'll be hours bleaching off the blood. Daniel, Danny, Dan Daniel is bleaching his body with drink and his brains with Lithium; he stalks the hallways at night, the guard of the Hell-Cells. And I am the one he protects from evil, I am the rabbit, locked in a cage. The shadows smear across the walls, and I rage for nothing.
Daniel doesn't know which life he's in today. He was a soldier in the last war, but there were no protests or marches, no governments making plans and signing agreements. Only me, me the mediator, the governmental cover-up. We're at peace, aren't we Danny? Daniel lies on the floor and shakes his agreement in the grip of catatonia.
Slamdancing
I couldn't slam hard enough to beat the anger out of me. The soles of my feet connect with the floor, hard, harder; I am stamping, I thrash my body beyond sensation. They call it dancing I call it catharsis, punishment. Even if I broke bones I would keep going. The music is only a part of the whole, a background to the tangible energy. It frames the movements with a solid vibration that thumps in the ribcage. You all surge and sweat and whip me with your hair, and your maleness presses against me in a young angry pall. I want to swallow it whole, I want your stone hard bones against me, all of you, crush me into the floor and out of the sky and beyond my body. Fill me with your sweat and hair and youth. I will eat you. I am in love and I am in control. You will crush me, for it is what I must have.
Boys
Who are you? Where are you? Which one of you for me? I am making my perfect one with the pieces I need. I am a mix and match queen. Eyes, hair, lips, chest, hands, legs. Your sex shouts and cajoles me with wicked grins and casual gestures. You protect me with your hair and soothe me with your mouth. I change who you are to suit my changes; I am never the same. I want your skin around me tight, a wrapping. Drink with me, tease with me, feel your edges dissolve and your words blur and your mind going. Eat my fingers and drink my eyes. I will take advantage of your keenness, of your naiveté, of your charm and your cheek. Before you know it, I will be snacking on your bones and asking for seconds.