mama,
i just
don’t
want
to live
anymore.
That first summer we spent’s
One we’ll never forget
Looking for any kind of reason
To escape all the mess that
We thought was what made us…
~*~
Sometimes I laugh at the thought
Of me writhing, as I vainly fought
Against a spell you held me under
You broke the walls, I ran for cover
.
But instead of playing me the victim
You merely stared and started singing
And I revealed out from my sanctuary
No longer afraid of what I can ever see
.
As tenor rose to the star-canopied skies
Hearts cadenced, synchronised lullabies
I locked the doors, left the windows open
Closed my eyes as you smiled and went in.
~*~
Ain’t it funny now? We can see
We’re who we’re meant to be
You still have all of my
You still have all of my
You still have all my heart…
Filed under Poetry
this house
is a horde of
gnashing
pack rats all
fucking eating
me alive
and i wish
that they would
choke on my
flesh after i
lace it with
cyanide.
Filed under Poetry
let me decide
what’s right
and what’s wrong
you do it so easily
but i won’t take long.
Filed under Poetry
i’m only
borrowing
inspiration
from poets
that i loathe
because all
their words
make sense
while mine
has no worth.
Filed under Poetry
We are the walking dead
Swallow the lies we’re fed
Uncover your eyes, uncover your eyes
Uncover the truth and you’ll realize
We’re hanging by a thread
We are the walking dead…
~*~
I was convinced of myself, at first.
Before mercy turned to failure and hell begged over to madness, everything seemed to be quite rational. Perfectly-planned. Dare I even say, elegantly beautiful. The conceived scenario played out in my head like an unraveling film spiel, woven into a viscid, intricate web and ensnaring naive hearts, and the sharp, unexpected twist and blunted violent stab of that final ending made the jagged suspense, the heart-wrenching thrill, the never-ending mystery and uncertainty, every slighted emotion thrown out and ravaged by the starving sharks, all of it…made everything worth it.
But now all I have is murder in my tongue, lies over my eyes, and your blood on my hands.
How did it all come to this?
Everything looks so red, even after I thoroughly scrubbed myself clean of the transgression. I made sure to meticulously tidy everything up. White walls, white floor, white bleached palms, white light pouring over the windows, a whiteness so pure and bright it’s fucking blinding, but the red obstinately stays. And it stains. On the white walls, on the white floor, on my chafed shaky hands, all over the room’s white-blanched windows like a sinner’s stained glass art, that redness so dark and demented that I can’t even clearly discern anymore where the colour ends and the shadows begin.
I have no excuse. I have no absolution from the crime I’ve committed. I cannot be pardoned, cannot be forgiven, and I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done. I know I deserve a punishment of nothing less than death. But I didn’t know it would come to this. I didn’t know what I was doing.
But I’m not sorry. And if I had to do it again, I would. Without any hesitations. Without thinking twice.
Without thinking about it all.
God forgive me.
~*~
Can anything bring us back to life?
Will anything make us right?
Can anything bring us back to life?
I’m willing to make us right?
‘Cause the further that we’re falling apart
The more that it breaks my heart…
Filed under Poetry
i gave a gift
to sadness
and he threw
it all away
.
the only emotion
i have left to give—
.
and it doesn’t want me to stay.
Filed under Poetry