Skip the Formalities, Beau Brummell

You fucking disappointment
I can’t entertain you anymore
These stupid states of mind
Punishing me all the time (why?)
But don’t cross your boundaries
And think that it’s cool, misguided
By darkness and lost on the road…


Behind this shell of all hardboiled sensibility

Lies a creature asthenic and meek as can be

Suppressing its mentality with sardonic smiles

As blood drips solemnly on monochrome tiles


Wounded soul that melts into a jaded saccade

Yet amusing them still with halfhearted tirades

A clause, a parentheses, a whispered undertone

I’m (not) okay, honestly, so (don’t) leave me alone


Tribulations on the tongue, caught in a feckless rain

Can’t survive kid, if you’re weak with extraneous pain

Its prosaic personality a palisade of a concealed war

Against shoelaces, razorblades and praying to stars


Mad cry of succour insinuated in one cheeky wink

Faux pas gaffe unraveling slow with arrogant calls

Strike three impertinence, but got no time to think

Won’t anyone catch this avalanche when it falls?


Behind this recherché, jocularity, and insouciant eccentricity

Lies an afflicted dying monster worn and torn and fear-born

Suppressing its insanity with another apathetic remark witty

For its only weapons and barrier against a cruel world is scorn.


But I’m such a sucker for the rain
Here we are crashing once again
Into the centre of your moonlit face
Our caved-in ribs, your tears…


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