Native Tongues

How can they say that it’s one way
When it’s the opposite?
And how can they know the end
Of the story before I tell it?
‘Cause when I walk, your feet
They fall to the same beat
Or maybe we’re from two different worlds…


We used to be the epitome of mindless materialism

Taking apart brick and coin for a little inkling of fun

We talked away in circles, but never in infinity signs

But it didn’t last forever ‘cause we both wanted to die


For I never understood why you didn’t ever understand

Until we’re left with empty voices and mismatched hands

I translated it all wrong, you decoded nothing but misery

We spoke in undecipherable tongues, so now we’re history


Why did we waste such eloquent words on each other’s lies?

Breathing out sombre songs that never synced the beat right

Wrought desiccated eyes with apertures that flashed blindly

And we set out separate restrictions from the cold apologies


We turned back but never forward and we took a couple steps

Too far until we hit the brick walls, this was far beyond any help

How could we plead that it was one-way, intersections opposite

When the fault was a double-edged tongue talking about bullshit?


But behind this dead mess, I do admit I enjoyed all the endless chaos

Riding the hurricane with you, and making my own cyclone at a loss

I wish you the same, and let me say I hope you don’t regret and think

Don’t forget the secrets we shared when our native tongue goes extinct.


We talk to people
But they never understand
They think we’re crazy
‘Cause it sounds like noise to them
Ain’t it strange, all the things you hear
When you sit and listen?


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i’m fairly certain

of uncertainties

building parasites

in my infected brain

a little bit crank

that turns it dank

festering and yet

putting a bad strain

i’m bored and i’m

sore to my very

tired core, bleeding

out dumb opinions

the accented words

like spoiled milk curd

making way for crass

and cold sophistication

the breath of crowds

and the noises loud

don’t give me any space

to sigh and think

rippling notions

and forced emotions

like an alacrity of

an underpaid shrink

so i slowly close and

repose, and take an

insipid revival in

one inch of a breath

press nagging voices

out of my deaf ears

before i go and catch

out an earlier death

i’m sickened of the

fire they’re all boiling

under my charred

and overcooked skin

a little bit further

i can’t take it any longer

and my short temper

cuts itself loose again.

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The Callalily’s Song

You make me twist in my dreams

Diamonds fall from my eyes as I seem

Like a happy wave of melancholy

With heavy doses of sharp-taste irony


I can catch the gaze but not the embrace

I’ll hear the words but I won’t waste

Another second with such distal aches

Shivering in my spine as I break


A million emotions that jump in my blood

Are better than vessels drained of god

And my cheeks bruise again from the thought

Of dead roses in bloom and lungs in knots


What was bridged in that fateful midsummer

Shall last, interstitial, a transient forever

For perhaps the hazardous sins I’ll commit

In contusions are arrested in vignettes to omit


It’s the golden state glow of your undertow

Bringing me under and letting me go

Hidden in virulent sonatas I shall dare to chase

For a chance at hope to see your divine face


It may be the perpetual hurt that keeps me awake

And I may reach for sunshine blue but I won’t see it stay

But I won’t ever get tired, no, I’ll let my heart do all the talking

And listen to the rain for lost passion that keeps on singing.

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after the lobotomy

mind your head

can’t concentrate

i want you to go

don’t stay away

i’m being feisty

my smile is numb

you got me walking

saying “goddamn”

you’re in my line

of sight and range

but duck your head

before it’s too late

my voices are all out

i won’t say a thing

but i’ll hang around

till i get what you mean

pardon, i lost my mind

when you came around

you’re far too high for me

so let me go, let me go down.

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Seeing Red

I thought I could.

I really thought I could.

But I can’t. I can’t.

And the worst part is:

This doesn’t even

Fucking hurt me anymore.

I have nothing else to do.

I have nowhere else to be.

Guess I couldn’t.

Guess I’ll fucking never.

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the art of art

i am you

i’ll play a tune

to sing of sunny haze

and cloudy gloom


you are me

you’ll write a sonnet

to speak of fireflies

and underground moments


i am me

i’ll paint a picasso

depicting stained hearts

and abstracted souls


you are you

you’ll orate a speech

declaiming of eloquence

and casual vernacular street


we are we

and we will forever be

immoralised from art to poetry

faded all the way to infinity.

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A Momentary Lapse of Judgment

Dissonance playing rhythms in my mind

My mouth is barely touching the ground

Both my eyes cannot find their way down

Back again, I am drifting without a sound

In momentary distractions, unmemorable

Surface words leaving the barest of ripples

On the distilled clear of the glacial lakeside

With every lambent flourishing and withers

Silver lines tying and intertwining intricate

Then colourblind separation falls apart like

A shower of collapsing glasshouse, piercing

Opalescent, as shatters of astern fragile skies

Alluvial perspectivism resting itself on hearts

That have never once touched pure rainwater,

The magnitude concealing itself within caprice

And presenting in caustic dyes of oasis failures

Cacophonies dancing tarantellas in my thoughts

And my lilting lips are barely tasting the sunlight

Both of my hands can’t pull their own weight up

Back again, I’m crashing violently without a sight.

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submerge me

under crystalline depths

i’m taking on

these liquid-laden breaths

haunted by the

cold bite of the coastal air

and i’m hanging

by the sand, shorn away bare

while my body is

pulled under the stygian grave

of chasmic serenity—

returning again like a tidal wave

choking on water

and the breeze becomes critical

i’m falling away

elastic flesh numb and insensible

i will sink down

before i can move myself to swim

please let me drown

water in my lungs, death in my sins.

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Guess Everyone’s Over Feeling Fantastic

It’s not that you’re mesmerising

Just the natural shade of blue

Your eyes are rainy comforting

You’re my cloudy day in June

And I’m always counting off

Seconds over your quaint smile

And I will get to a million one

Before you can find out why

So don’t pretend to understand

I’ll stop cheating when you’ll sing

About the grey sunflowers sour

Replaying once again and again

They say I’m stupid for the doses

That dazed the growing crisis in me

Drink up and take it more serious

Like it’s the useless type of surgery

It’s not like you are everything

You’re just my natural shade of pink

I’m gloomy and my chest is stormy

But you’re the feeling I don’t have to think.

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a specific kind of hurt

hurtful twinges

filling up every

corner of my

expanding coroner’s

disease; debilitating,

destroying, until

what’s left of me

is nothing


hurtful twinges

crashing down every

space of my

suffocating mental

affliction; desperate,

decaying, until

what’s left of you

is nothing.

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