Tag Archives: belief

if there’s a god, he doesn’t have time for my bullshit

Take the pain
Make it billboard big and swallow it for me
Time capsule for the future
Trust me, that’s what I will be
Oh, the things that you do in the name
Of what you love

You are doomed but just enough…

~*~

i’m just so sick of faith

being forced down my throat

like it’s a mandatory responsibility

i may as well be tasting tax bills

but even then, at least i know

that the former is concrete, instead

of blindly fumbling for my hands as

i clasp the scapular and mumble

memorised prayers that i grew tired of

in another dead lifetime ago

because if i have to starve for days

and cut myself open just to enter heaven,

then why do they tell me it’s the devil’s fault?

isn’t that what i’m doing, anyway?

and what’s the fucking point of paradise?

Yes, the norms and dictations were all fun and

amusing when i was a wide-eyed child

so malleable, curious, and foolish enough to believe in

santa claus and the tooth fairy and tall tales

and believing whatever people told me was true

because i couldn’t construct my own reality back then

but now i’m older (one may contradict that

i’m not *that* old, but if my family says i’m old

enough to have to go through this bullshit, then that’s

adequately old enough for me, thanks very much)

and i’m wornout and jaded and tired and have

gone through not a lot, but just enough to lose the beliefs

that have done nothing good or beneficial for me

because all the saints and the promises of salvation

couldn’t make my eyes fall shut every night

and keep them wide open every morning,

day in and day out, over and over and over again.

i may as well be wishing quiet little whims every 11:11

or plucking lucky four-leaf clovers from grass

for whatever faith that’s worth anchoring myself onto.

Now, i know to keep my mouth shut and respect their faiths

but just don’t fucking cram all of it down my throat

like it’s my responsibility to be a good child,

to feel sorry for my sins and stay away from hell…

because if i live in a world like this, just how bad can that be?

~*~

And it’s getting hard to know what’s real
And if death is the last appointment
Then we’re all just sitting in the waiting room
I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom…

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The Blessed and the Blasphemy

The world’s not fucking built of saints

Only gilded tongues and corrupted eyes

The infected castigating the fellow taint

And floral-laden verses dripping of lies

.

Persecution is just another word for purge

Heaven’s open, but first we have to grovel

If I wanted sanctimony, I would go to church

Instead of listening to this tormenting drivel

.

If they listen to prayer, then I pray that you’ll stop

Holy shit, this pious virtuousness makes me laugh

I don’t mean to be crass, but these words mean bullshit

We don’t have time for compelling, get damn used to it

.

I’m not an atheist, but I just don’t believe in playing god

And if they’re here to preach some more, then hell can take me back

I don’t condemn beliefs, just don’t force it down my throat

Because I won’t enjoy the taste—I will just bring it back up and choke.

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Deca[y]dence

Like memories in cold decay
Transmissions echoing away
Far from the world of you and I
Where oceans bleed into the sky…

~*~

Desiccated spaces where a heart used to be

Arrogant sneers, spilling away immortality

Stepping on the detritus of a calamitous lie

Polygraphs seizing and intervening us nigh

.

Your distress signal under a burning bridge

Narcotic teeth fall out, in a pulmonary hitch

Wretched iridescence transposed into matte

Insurgent eugenic narrated our contingency

.

Beliefs bleeding out down a bathroom drain

Transmitting onto veins a rapacious disdain

Don’t save the accident for a dull reparation

Hospitals aren’t amused by a prestidigitation

.

The perpetrators backfiring, victims rupture

A mistake that won’t be held back by sutures

In the oil, propane, and faulty brakes, I’ll see

Decomposed vacuum where a soul used to be.

~*~

And when I close my eyes tonight
To symphonies of blinding light
God bless us everyone, we’re a
Broken people living under loaded gun…

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Credence Revival

I gots a lot to learn
But I learn a lot, I’m not concerned
You’ve got a lot of burns
From all this pessimism you said
Miscommunication…

~*~

Regrets adamant, remorseful shame sternly pressing at the back of my throat

If I’ve held on to my beliefs tighter, would that make it harder for faith to let go?

I’m attempting to beat down the monstrous odds with a bantam plastic sword

And disregarding the tongues they have cut away so that I can get the last word

.

I took their plans, drawn and carefully-laid out, and I spilled my blood all over

Until my moral compass and the road to vices are practically indistinguishable

This is a cosmic sitcom, not blatant sanctity that can be written on plain paper

I’m fucked for simply thinking I have a motivation that is never extinguishable

.

Hope for the best and prepare for the worst, ask for blessings but receive a curse

Desperate for a reckoning, delirious over second chances, drinking against thirst

In the atrocity of life’s reliquary, I’m only wishing to find any smidgen of cohesion

But all the platitudes of confidence and trust were nothing but blank superstitions.

~*~

Fake apologies (Fake apologies)
Can I just call it quits, I can’t take all of this
Fighting all of me (Fighting all of me)
I want a second chance, but I’m so broken…

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break the fall

sorry to break

it to you now,

but you’re not

special, love

you’re barely

worthy for a

clap, let alone

a white dove

sorry to break

your beliefs,

dear, but you’re

just not worth

any of my time

if i’m coldblooded

in your sad eyes

then be a friend

and fucking pay

for your crime.

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A Mad Boy’s Love Letter

(Written as a reciprocal to Sylvia Plath’s Mad Girl’s Love Song. A poor reciprocation notwithstanding, but nevertheless, carry on.)

~*~

Charm that allures in whim

A grandiose wicked scheme

Deluding myself in dalliance

Chemical love, not romance

T’was my best man, insanity

Blackness simpers arbitrary

I dream a castigated fantasy

Pray judge such not harshly

.

If both lips existed out there

Then heaven, it must be rare

If you mayn’t one so tangible

Then hell, it may be beautiful

The stars, t’were yours alone

Though you needn’t bemoan

We shall carry our revelry on

To hanging gardens Babylon

.

I promised I will return warm

And collapse in abstract arms

Yet tragedy, it reared its face

My name was already erased

I mightn’t be the thunderbird

Roaring to my springtime girl

Rather a demigod, a faded blue

Making the world drop for you

.

For nay was I a corporeal creation

I lacked in belief to conjure it long

Without you love, I would be dead

(Or was it simply all inside my head?)

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