Tag Archives: abuse

Callosamia Promethea

Has the moth in your flame

Finally begun to complain?

Weathered nerves, testimonies

Burns—felony—in third degree

.

When the pressure caved your ribs

And catgut spun from the ceiling

Drenched with red but never bleeds

Gums clenched from dissenting

.

But when the moth in your flame

Brings the fire back into your skin

Their sanctity becomes your agony

Pain—murder—in second degree

.

But ashes shall beget winter ashes

As dust conceals carrion under pasts

Maybe you deserved all their abuse

And maybe the flies deserve to watch.

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In Excelsis

He proclaims to ravage your sanctity with the act of a knighted defender

Find another way to twist the tales, for he’s the tactless paladin, oh-so clever

And he’s far too proud to suck the hollow fibs right off of his glowing teeth

But when it goes around, it comes around, so just strike a match for his greed

Because he’s most obviously the higher man in such a simpleminded charade

Crashes his temples against the ground three times so you would hear his pity parade

He’s better off, he’s better now, he’s still stuck grovelling in his plagiarised sanctimony

All hail to the king and his fucking sharp things, his blood’s thicker with every abusive elegy.

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first punch

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let’s find out

how much damage

i can cause—

or better yet, find out

how much

damage i can take.

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cheval verre

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chew the shards of glass

between your overcast teeth

and promise me this time—

.

promise me you wouldn’t lie.

.

doesn’t feel too good with

blood overflowing in your

mouth, does it? did it turn

the ashes into putrid mud,

as well, and pour out from

every orifice in a thick, dull

sludge, confessing the crimes

.

tucked quietly behind those

calculating, glimmerless eyes…

.

does the crunching of glass

sound like the bones i broke

trying to convince myself that

your gaping lips are meant for

more than blatant fabrications—

.

does the crunching of glass

sound like sweet music to you,

.

the way it does to me right now?

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Transmogrify

They spit me out right through the teeth
I can’t pretend, ash in the wind
Won’t blow again, it was a breeze for you
These hurricanes inside of my brain
Let it rain, made it look easy
Can’t look away, you love the pain…

~*~

I’m sick of feeling happy like this.

Like a hollow happy, all fractured sticks and carved limestone facades and a mimicked genuine smile that does absolutely nothing to quell the bitter, devoid, pathetically-quivering feeling viscously building up in my throat. The desperate, acidic kind, the awful one I just want to violently throw back up but can’t. Fake-real happy.

Fuck that, why couldn’t I just be normal happy?

This dangerous selfishness, it’s like a howling werewolf without a full moon, and I’ll always fall immeasurably short of what I truly feel. I only provoke the worst kind of boiling rage frothing against my curled lips, a bloodstained rabid displeasure—but nothing more—at the fact that I’m happy for you, but not really happy to be so. Empty fucking threats. Instantly dying out short and flat. The synthetic skyline glimmers back to me in a derisive snarl; taunting,

What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?

I want it to tear apart my flimsy skin and reveal the perverse goddamned feral beast hibernating inside, I want my soggy eyes to glint a jaundiced yellow and my grotesquely-disfigured mind to lower its inhibitions and reset to a primal scream, my rewired guts are churning corrosively as they crash away at my torso and starve for some more guts, and my grin at this point only resembles a sinister bared sneer, all vicious teeth and reckless abuse.

If I can’t have it, then everyone else will.

I just finally want to shed off that repugnant, powerless, shaky lie I call my own farcical humanity and then completely let go. Of you. Of everything else. Of everyone else. Including myself. Especially myself.

Maybe then, I’ll truly be happy. Please. God, please.

~*~

I paid the cost, yeah, it’s all my fault
That I ain’t giving up my soul
It’s all my fault, watching me bleed
You cut me down on my knees
No matter what you believe
I think we both can agree
That you can’t blame it on me…

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Baptism By Fire

Blink if you hear our signal
Our hands drip red with blood from clapping
When you hear the command
The sparrow ate our bread trails
Go east along this shadowed mountainside
If you wanna stay alive…

~*~

You stuck to the guns that grew behind your open back

I let you confuse me for a while, until you beat me black

But I still left all the pain between the spaces in my teeth

Picking barbed wire from my knuckles, I can’t even bleed

.

So now the party favour’s over, the running joke is getting old

I couldn’t even laugh at myself, you thought you had me so sold

But contempt is double-sided, their crude fence has collapsed

You’re nothing more than a brackish lie, a fast-forward relapse

.

But you stuck to the blunt razors you forged under your callused skin

When the devil beckoned you back, confident that you would finally win

But when I left my lacerations in the places you and the crowd could see

That was only for show and tell and the next one up in line is you, not me.

~*~

Well, you had pinched my arm to find light
And know that if this is real
I know how the emotion
Now I can’t sense when or if I get out
And I’m still wayside with myself…

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Sucker Punch

hey, sucker punch love

burn the roof of my mouth

and make my tongue curdle

like sucker punch blood

.

let me smile for your fist

knock a couple chipped teeth

cheek pressed to the floor

wild crowd screaming for more

.

hey, sucker punch love

play me now like you play god

might be from infatuation

or from the hairline concussion

.

make that puckered-up face

as i stumble into third place

swing the bat and let me have it

oh, you know you love the damage.

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The Victim of the Hour

Take the empty bullet hanging from my neck, why don’t you?

Why don’t you? Just take and lodge the last remaining pieces

Of the picture on the wall (where you used to pound your fists)

Into the judged severity of my severed jugular, maybe that

Will mend it medicine man, maybe you will find me again

(Barely breathing) Barely breathing just after that horrid sound rang

Through the night? Yes, through the night! The neighbours’ screams

Were not much louder than mine—pity—but it isn’t an awful contest

Just injustice in motion (you see) and you killed the only person

That was trying to set you free. Free the trigger, why don’t you?

Why don’t you? Are you scared they’ll come after you, after me?

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Domestic Park

Desk drawers

Fractured tibia

Stopwatch red

Dream febricula

Medicated blues

Hangover sober

Ready-set overdose

Insides uncovered

Busted-up mouth

Bloodied ceiling

Cracked linoleum

Window unhinging

Screaming children

Playground purple

Tempest tantrums

Drainage overfull

Halted arguments

Gossipy neigbours

“Do-not-cross” tape

Handcuffed endeavour

Guilt-ridden laughter

Covered up with tears

Madness manifesting

“I didn’t do it, dear.”

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sulk

influences

on the red of

her lips, and

her cornflower

hair glowing,

an autumn moon

sulking by a

riverside bank

as pastel waves

kissed out the

drought of spring

and i remembered

how to forget…

bruised knuckles,

twisted hallways

filled with ghosts

that no one can chase

but her all alone,

and a room which

held my dark fears

but never let them out.

and left nothing but

silent discontent,

wrong phone calls,

her umber eyes under

the influence of tears

until they turned red

and drifted off into

a sleepless dream.

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