Tag Archives: bleed

Ex Nihilo

Oh, but don’t you see? We’re made to destroy

Shooting arrows onto the pockmarked ceiling

Until it loses its shaky grip, and begins falling

Finding another home in the chasm of our skin

.

Creating the chaos that even god won’t decimate

The first sin and final revelation, we will recreate

Holding back the maelstrom, a cataclysm presents

With every pain and agony, the loathing we resent

.

Chasing back the darkness, like starved animals we breathe

Savages tearing apart throats to shreds to get what we’ll need

Bleeding, bruised, medicine refused, suffering keeps us awake

Or we will never stay alive under the weight of all our mistakes

.

Running away from reality, breaking in nothing as we stalled

Tortured eyes seek wandering lies, and scratching at the walls

They make signs and burn our names in the wake of destruction

That we caused with our dying hands, genocide of the generation

.

Can I just have one more, one more…can I just have one more taste?

I won’t make it, won’t make it—I won’t make it through another day

Pleading and obliterating, until all that’s left is you and I alone to die

We’re made to destroy this decomposing world of devastation tonight.

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Stars In Flight

The hope that you spilled onto my tongue

Still has no discernible taste

And all the second chances, times infinity

Felt like such a complete waste

I want to defy the serpents hissing profane

And light up these lips in butane

I want to believe that yesterday don’t exist

And cross it out of my checklist

But I relapse into hospital wedding gowns

In voices that don’t make a sound

Choking on gold ribbons, feeling the same

As I get tired of writing my name

Spinning in cycles of silver clouds and pose

Faith as banal as a lacerating rose

Telling heaven what I want again ‘til it hurts

Injured by hell, losing to my curse

Will I ever replace restless flames that ignite

As pretence returns to take the fight?

Will I close my eyes against the terror austere

Can I say I’ll still be here in a year?

But I hear you singing in the wind and echoing

Past empty hallways, ever listening

Sabotaging rusted knives deigning to be selfish

With a stellar colliding for the finish

You will never know you’re my angel, will you?

You’ll never know how many times

You saved me from falling out into dark oblivion

As desperation’s bile starts to arise

When you swore you won’t chase in circles south

And whispered as I held my mouth

I did yearn to die, but you make me want to fake it

Sleeping in carparks, I might make it

And the floral pain nearly tears my skin into shreds

But you drink away the poisoned lead

I’m screaming thoughts which you turned into wine

I couldn’t rest until I’m startled into fine

I never deserved all of this, though it might be sparse

You swore it’ll disappear, promise to stars

I’ll be alright, love, I can bleed away all my phantoms

Someday I’ll fly to you, away from rock bottom.

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Senbazuru

Complexities feel like japanese origami cranes

Floating solemnly past silhouetted windowsills

Crumpled papyrus beaks inching their way into

.

The fragile throats that dared not utter a scream

And again I find myself folding a hundred cranes

Wishing for a thousand to bleed into my dreams.

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Cutless

It feels like a decade

Since these tears last bled

And the moon in my sober eyes

Were thoroughly wasted

When the sentient papercuts

Barely felt a modest sting

And the headlights overhead

Were blindingly glaring

When nights were spent praying

But the car crash never arrived

Acid sensation uncontrollable

But no one ever died

It feels like a decade since

The reaper knocked on my wrists

I swept my sins but I still don’t know

What it’s like to be completely free.

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Thirteen Minutes Of Scattered Reflection

1.

Insipid thoughts

None of them so much

As to be considered

Noteworthy—

I’m going to write

It down anyway.

2.

Dawn falling in fragments

Chasing the nightmares

Back into my drowsy head.

3.

Classic novellas that

End with a kiss

Rather silly, when

The whole point

Of the story

Is missed.

4.

Am I still your delight?

The pinnacle that throws

Blossoms under your sheets

And makes you smile with

Atrocious gesticulations?

Am I still your late nights,

Or has insomnia coquetted you?

5.

The silver snow stirred

In an autumn pantomime

My patio steps are slippery

A blackbird hums distant.

6.

I promised I shan’t admit such a thing, but…

The songs they sing feel like home.

8.

The irretrievable memories

Of you laughing drunkenly

Under sodium streetlights

As I kept the secret of time

Away so we wouldn’t have

To depart so suddenly now.

9.

Realm infected shadows slip under cedar oak limb

And they painted solemn lips a disorienting black

Vagabond lilies predicating the spirits of escapism

And again the sober hostages soused away the rest

With thrushes, silhouettes and asphodel disembark.

10.

The magnet polaroids

Stuck to the refrigerator door

Showing a false smile under layers of

Clown-vicious makeup

In a bad party for the ageless

…How disgusting.

11.

The pedestrians of Ridgemont High

Are caught in fast times

And the brake halt threw their heads

Out of the car window.

12.

My pulse is dancing in colourful circles

Won’t you try to catch its flightless beat?

13.

Calla-lilies serenade the moon

Icicles piercing icteric sunshine

Stars made for butterfly cocoon

Frog grass stepping, undefined

A diary written in brushstrokes

Of one artless individual’s chest

My ink is bleeding out and soak

I’ll tear out the pages of the rest.

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Glass Shards Taste Sweeter Than Revenge

Cut off my wings and come lock me up
Just pull the plug yeah, I’ve had enough
Tear me to pieces, sell me for parts
You’re all vampires so here
You can have my heart…

~*~

you’re not worth

swallowing eggshells for

i wish i knew before i

digested all your bullshit

not everyone can spill

sunshine when they speak

and i’d rather die by my

own hand than your radiation

so take a fucking razor

and cut your palms open

just bleed the hell out

and drown all the demons

and pull yourself so far under

isn’t that what you always want?

don’t let the roses stop you

burn me out as you did

to those innocent paper towns

because i’m waterlogged anyway

you’ve no use for my pages

and yet you persist to write the

profanities and revilement

just to wipe condescension in

like your own twisted diary

i hope you’re happy now

from slashing my ankles simply

‘cause you got tired of this

if you can’t chase, no one can

honestly i’m glad you cut me off

though i may be crippled, at

least my conscience isn’t paralysed

my shame isn’t metastasised

i guess so long, goodnight, and

good goddamned riddance

hope you have fun stepping on

the glass shards i spit out for you.

~*~

So come rain on my parade, ’cause I wanna feel it
Come shove me over the edge ’cause my head is in overdrive
I’m sorry, but it’s too late and it’s not worth saving
So come rain on my parade, I think we’re doomed
I think we’re doomed, and now there is no way back…

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Jealous Butterflies and Ochre Moth Wings

We’re just two jealous souls breaking envy against the tidal waves, bleeding out elaborate cesspools fervently, and leaving soundless mouths agape for the stained porcelain butterflies to enter, hoping that the fragile incipient creatures would exit our perfidious throats undaunted and provide our dilapidated larynx with an ameliorated song to sing. Yet we only manage to choke on their flimsy polychrome wings and cough them out unceremoniously before we suffocate, the meek and hapless butterflies bent in twisted angles, traces of leaden dust leaving residues of faithful solemnity in our tinted lips, tongues whispering the painful words that no sane mentality dares to hear, destroying the only scant chances for our treasonable prayers to receive heaven.

Then, after all the nascent vituperation that ensconces our quiet bones like an impaired skylight, where would we be? Plucking burnt tawny moth wings out of wilted candle wicks in the destitute hopes that they shall acquiesce the same way those quaint looking glass butterflies did, yet never realising that there is no fraudulence nor varied substitute for that abstract tessellation, that modicum of infinity, that metamorphosed dimension that those nebulous lepidopterons accumulate and exhale. Recovery cannot be replaced, and a replacement cannot be recovered. Amid the failing maiden glow and taffy-stretched daydreams, there is only maligned reverie by maimed lightweights, attempting to endow the subtler nuances of this life a vaguer and more coruscant definition.

Against the jade-eyed desires that we fought ever so vigilantly with inured devastation and bargained discrepancies, against the covetous recidivism and the elaborate secondhand lies that come tucked along within it like opening a painted russian nesting doll, against the prehensile avarice ascending above everything and drowning us in its remorseless cyclone, our jealous souls stand resolutely falling apart. There are no more iridescent enamel butterflies to count prismatic wishes on, no more ashen moth wings to cling onto fragments of faith for, no more candid humility and hackneyed selflessness and altruistic implications, only an imminent invidia and bilateral resentment. Reality ensues, and chaos along with it. Where will our lost nightmares dream now?

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Dominance

And you’ll see your closest ones go first
Who needs enemies you’ve got friends
I’m a gentleman and you’re a liar
I expect the best of you but it’s so hard…

~*~

Oh, that never-ending thrum of her lifeblood. Splashing under vein and skin perceptibly, the splattered stains of her rogue lip-gloss submerging the hazy mascara-smudged gazes that she immediately crashed to the linoleum floor with a rejected dismay. What a mess—she looks drop-dead gorgeous tonight.

I approach her cautiously, casual and debonair, as to discourage unnecessary alarm. I admit, I was never one for such contrivances, writing unromantic lyrics at the back of my hand just so I can hold hers, irony unkindly spitting in my face with a sneer. Yet should she fancy a cosmopolitan to tear away the shreds of her enmities, I’ll be holding out a martini glass and nodding sympathetically, twisting the grim words as if it were Romeo’s dagger deeply shoved in her caved-in chest. Don’t bleed out yet, dear fragile porcelain girl, my obsequious platitudes and sycophantic adulation are yours to hoard and accrue. I’ll acquiesce in this chemical compliance to adorn your melancholy with rude festivities, I swear upon my heart.

Listen closer…do you hear her shattering tears inciting instantaneous panic on the dancefloor, digging holes deep enough for graves and hawking out salacious vultures to claw their way for the poor damsel in distress? Listen. Don’t be distracted by the jubilant electronic music whose undertones screamed of a mechanical cadaver behind the microphone, and hear the sound of a thousand starving beats ready to rend her apart. There they are now, the prurient salivating bastards, screeching and cawing shrilly, swooping closer and closer, razor beaks ready for the kill. It was up to me to stave the ravenous scavengers off tooth and nail, and never should it be said that such a task was not without tribulation.

I left that place beaten and badly wounded. But I do not mind the pain, for these fresh battle scars are an instrument of deceit; it shall only drag her in further into the elaborate delusion I set up for her to indulge herself in. She’s smitten by woe, deluded by pity, confused by liquor, a triumvirate of a perfect malleable soul. In her bloodshot eyes, I’m the bleeding fragile porcelain boy now, and it’s her adamant responsibility to pick up the pieces of my flesh that the scavengers left behind, it’s her self-blame and guilty contrition that will bandage them back together and fix my bruises to the best of her abilities. Deja vu, it seems. Yet, observe how the tables have turned. But no matter. She has my heart, if I had any at all. She is solely mine now. She is mine.

Listen…listen again. Listen closer, and hear the faint orchestral symphonies of her gossamer abstract body keeping me awake all day and singing me to sleep all night. Oh, that never-ending thrum of her lifeblood. How it tastes so fucking sweet between my sullied palms. How it thrums no longer now.

~*~

Let’s start over
When we reach the top, we’ll watch you bury yourself
This wasn’t easy, it wasn’t easy
I watched the weight of your world cave in to crush you.

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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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[c]harmed

i simply feel like screaming

‘til both my lungs detonate

and every bone in my body

breaks with the sheer force

of such fucking vocal strain

i just feel like bleeding out

until i can no longer sense

such phenomenon and the

consequences of my action

even then i’ll still be in pain.

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