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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Glass Slipperdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: nebnim
    ASL Info:    21 - Female - My Room
    Elite Ratio:    4.01 - 284/405/75
    Words: 334
    Class/Type: Lyrics/Depressed
    Total Views: 1085
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 2186



    Description:
       Hello. My name is Rachel, and I'm an addict. You need to read this description, otherwise my post will make little sense.
    I downloaded this song quite a while ago, but I just listened to it two days ago (I'm a lazy bastard), and now I cannot get it out of my head. I'll listen to it over and over. It's the only song that's been in my head for over 48 hours, which is odd for me.
    The lyrics, for as wonderful as they seem to me, are nothing compared to the way this woman sings them. It starts as a dirge, and she sounds so damn empty. Like she's so exhausted from being miserable that she barely has the energy to speak. It almost sounds as if she's making up the song on the spot, telling her sad story to a muttering audiance, then something will spark a memory, and she'll get furious. With a painful wail, she lets the world know just how angry and wounded she is.
    The references to dancing were what originally drew me to this song. The underlying Cinderella tone makes the story seem much sadder when you realize that her prince left her standing at the alter more times than once.
    This is mostly for Steve's benefit, for I know that my dear friend will clasp himself to this song like a newborn to it's mother.
    Anyways...I haven't been writing much lately, so I'm using someone else's inspiration to express myself. I miss you all.

    Be well, guardians of words,
    ~Rachel~


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsGlass Slipperdots
    -------------------------------------------


    No one's asking to go dancing
    It's not like that anymore.
    It's romantic, if they mean it,
    When they shut your fingers in the door.
    It's a gory sort of story
    That's been told a hundred times before.
    It gets tricky, don't be picky.
    If the slipper fits, you wear it, whore.

    How many tips can I take home tonight
    Without them getting mad?
    How many stitches do you think it takes
    To fix a cut that bad?
    How many minutes until midnight
    And you get your eyesight back?

    Not to knock it, I've been off it
    Never moving very much at once.
    It's been awkward
    I still offer it when it's that time of...
    Other girl's shower, but I give out flowers
    To curious strangers
    Who throw dollars at my feet.

    How many crimes can I try spotting dry
    Before it leaves a stain?
    How many times say that I love you
    Til it doesn't mean a thing?
    How many fittings must I sit through
    With my big feet blistering?
    How many times until it strips me,
    And my big mouth strikes again.

    I'm not asking to go dancing,
    I'm not that dumb anymore.
    It's exhausting to keep smiling
    When your toes are bleeding on the floor.
    It's a gory sort of story
    That's been told a hundred times before.
    Don't be sorry, just ignore me
    Because honestly
    I'm too sore from fitting exactly to ride into
    Setting suns
    Aching to stand on my own two feet.

    How many wishes do I still have left
    To fix the way it ends?
    How many prince's do you think it takes
    To put a girl like this back together again?
    How many instances can you point out
    When I was less than kind?
    How many happy endings do you need
    To change your fucking mind?
    And how much time do we have left
    Before it's midnight and you see
    That I was never the right size.

    ~The Dresden Dolls~




    Submitted on 2007-01-20 17:49:35     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

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    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      I like the peice. It tells a sad, but true truth, that romance is no longer romanticised as it once was. Things aren't considered romantic as they once were. Worse than that, Sex is no longer romanticised either, it's much more of a thing that you do because you say "I Love You", not because you want to do it. Something you do because it's necessary, rather than something that you want to do. It's sad, really, that we've degenerated to this point, but tht's the way things are. Like he peice. Well written, and well read.

    Wishing for more
    ~Brian
    | Posted on 2007-01-22 00:00:00 | by Imadjinn | [ Reply to This ]
      Sounds pretty cool...I may have to give it a listen.

    Thanks for sharing.
    | Posted on 2007-01-20 00:00:00 | by Raivn | [ Reply to This ]


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    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


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    January 10 07
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