Tag Archives: blood

Lie to the Truth

When I started out writing you this song
I was heels over head in love, but you had your doubts
‘Cause it took too long to finally see what I
What I’d been doing wrong…

~*~

My brain no longer contracts

Or twists in circles at the thought

My blood no longer circulates

And my heart fails to leap a beat

.

Oh, this tragedy of fugacious whims

Beating down the numb with too much sense

Compromising to entangle red strings

Hoping that two souls would starve the same

,

But three’s a crowd, and the painful hunger persists

It’s time to throw one or the other to the tides

The way of happy reality is just a sorrowful mystery

As double half-truths last longer than the truth

.

I attempt to convince myself of the erroneous fact

As if that would save the submerging illusion

Pretend I’m not drowning under as I take on water

And hold the hands of the heavyweight elation

.

Feelings disappearing before orion storms wash away

Agitated pulse screaming of kerosene fires and laudanum

Pulling my drifting self behind in a cage of indecision

Before all that I have is confiscated from my faltering eyes.

~*~

We tried to be true but you still loved him so
I’ll keep my distance and lie to the truth
I lie to the truth, I lie to the truth’
Cause you lied to it too…

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Blood Will Have Blood

The reverent situation embellished in derelict plinths

A monolithic monument for the glorious and the bold

Calm deceit that shackled itself by the crumbling base

Of the cavalier and honourables, now but history aged

Voices of the casualties pilfered from pernicious graves

What must be forgotten is an imprint of those who saved

The damned beaten down into the ground from which they lay

Sacrificing blood so clockwork eyes may live to see another war-bent day.

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Causal Events

I will be the vein you’d love to sever

From A to Z and from now to never

Akin to quiet postorgasmic drowsy

So sleep it out and don’t feel sorry

.

I’m not supposed to be the violence

Inside your bones, filled with silence

But the blood still leaves out my eyes

Like an enemy camp abandoning allies

.

I would be this crude cantankerous laugh

Forced out of nowhere, both half and half

They said that fools will never say a thing

But it seems, that’s all that they are doing

.

I could not admit to subaltern abandonment

Venom despising in a twisted-green serpent

Burn the bridges that were never even there

Get rid of the people that are caught unaware

.

I am the derelict heart with no utile functions

In frauds and lies and martyr insubordination

Like a quick temper tantrum, a five dollar sea

Swim inside me so you won’t have to be sorry.

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Cutting It Out

When I look in the mirror 
I know not who I see 
It’s hopeless, I’m hopeless 
But I’m not sorry for what that I’ve done
They had it coming, we all die someday
I do what the voices tell me to do…

~*~

I want to cut myself open

And come back inside

The recesses of my bones

Broken and pathetic tonight

I want to slit my smile

From my ear to my throat

And I’ll choke myself to sleep

Drunk on blood and bloat

I want to scar myself absurd

Hanging on to every word

That I wrote all over my hands

I don’t even understand

I want to be bruised or bitten

Torn apart and be smitten

By the throes that keep me up

They never want me to stop

I want to cut myself to shreds

Crawl back inside my cesspool head

I don’t want a body that betrays me

In a life that doesn’t even want to take me.

~*~

It’s always easier to kill 
When you’re already dead inside
Lock me up ’cause I’ve lost my fucking mind
Rock back and forth, it kills me, it thrills me
Rock back and forth, to see you dead…

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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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Janus and the Beast

There’s nothing like a trail of blood
To find your way back home
And nothing feels as cold inside as heaven down below
I’ve been lost and never found, afraid
To speak my truth out loud
With empty hands I came into this world
And I’ll leave just the same…

~*~

Blood smeared on the walls

Like the smiles on your two faces

Taunting a mechanical reaction

Of storms and clever rhetorics

That died of natural causes

.

But the truth is far from you

This miserable incineration

Of my outer demons breaking

Leaving the scar issues making

News all over my gossipy skin

.

And my migraine’s headlining

Medications inventing versions

Of the story no one wants to tell

Stigmata leaving sensible stigmas

Bitter bidding angels wish you hell

.

Blood smeared all over the walls

Like the frowns on your two faces

Making a cruel definition agreed

Of cyclones and asinine comebacks

That revived the primal nature in me.

~*~

Death, you cannot take me, you’ve tried and failed before
With everything so deafening, each breath worth fighting for
I refuse to be your casualty ’cause pain has its reward
No longer trapped in agony, you cannot take me, I survive the storm…

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just a little more for overdose

My mind is wide asleep, my conscience deep awake 
The promises I keep are not the ones I make 
I count the caustic causes, I lost count of regrets 
A surplus of good intentions, don’t provide me with content 
All I want is just a little content…

~*~

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

and i want to find it

and drink it all

to keep myself from

impulsively banging my

migraine-shot head

into the wall

and possibly haemorrhage

because she doesn’t believe me

that i am in pain

i’m in pain.

and it’s not just physical

but if it doesn’t show

in thermometers and bruises

that must mean

i’m faking it

to get out of class

because what sane person

wouldn’t want to feign

being suicidal for such petty reasons?

i’m breathing heavily,

ragged cries echoing hollowly

on the bathroom tiles, and

my feet are shivering

from stepping on the wet floor

for too long, but i can’t run away.

i try to make up my mind,

waiting for the spots of blood

to catch in my ivory soap

but instead the tears beat them to it.

it hurts it hurts IT HURTS

i want to scream

but my younger sister is still eating her

breakfast obliviously outside,

most likely wondering

why the hell

i have been silent

for more than 30 minutes now

i hope she thinks i’m dead.

i hope i wish i’m dead.

i’m waiting for her to leave already

so i could tiptoe out

of the bathroom

and get a new pair of metal smiles

goddamnit, she better hurry up.

meanwhile, my mother is ready to shove

the wall clock down my throat

and shriek at me that

i’m already running late

i know she wants me dead.

I know i want to be dead.

and of course, she blames me

for staying up to do

the only thing i can do

to try to just fucking stay alive

better to be dying inside

than to waste my cold future

and skip a day of class

(as if i have a future at that point)

i don’t have to be a liability

to her, to any of them, right now

and this sickness was

my own undoing,

i was clearly asking for it.

i’m guilty

of what i know

but not of what i did

to myself or them

but for what i did even though

i have what i need alone

…i’m fucking weak,

i know already.

and to think that i actually

cared for these bastards

once or even twice

in my life—how disgusting.

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

that she’s probably

knocking down

all at once to keep from

impulsively slamming

my migraine-shot head into

the pristine white walls

because she thinks that i’m a liar

and since i guess i am…i fucking believe her

just as much as she believes

that i am in pain.

i’m in pain.

~*~

I choose the beaten path, I’ve been to where it leads 
Why I keep coming back, a mystery to me 
I found what I’ve been seeking, it’s too late for me to care 
My aspiration’s leaking from a hole I can’t repair 
Maybe I just don’t want it repaired.

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In The Presence of Perdition

“And it is from this world of darkness
Which come the evil, destructive forces of man’s nature.”

~*~

Come one, come all, to the audience of the deceased

Have a taste of the pleasure that your rotting tongue missed

Sit before the actors regurgitating lines in vaudeville sarcasm

And your skin is stitched directly to the burning emblem

So curse all the horrors and scream at the fainthearted

A minor threat, a copycat’s tragic death, bloodshot gazes averted

Give out the two-faced masks that conceal the grotesque

For that flimsy veil of deception that only ire savages protect

So hold your breath and shut your lungs, there’s no other place for the living

Break your grasp and lose control on the mausoleum graves we’re dancing

I’m built for blame and bland on sins, severed eyes won’t see the true vision of hell

And I can’t be saved by devotees and war-bent crimes they preach on the chapel

But don’t worry, I’ll still clap along to the act until my blistered hands catch on fire

Dante’s inferno is just a burlesque caricature compared to this hellish life that even the devil desires.

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Primal Fear

I can’t escape myself
So many times I’ve lied
But there’s still rage inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can’t control myself…

~*~

I can’t last, can’t escape

My bloodshot eyes can’t tell

I can’t love, but can hate

Cage the animal in eternal hell

.

I tried to let go of the knife

In the past, when it was dark

But the nightmare in my life

Can’t be tamed with a mark

.

I can’t last, can’t escape

My bloody hands hang limp

I can sleep but can’t wake

Burn the beast when it sinks

.

I have tried to shake off

All the voices in my brain

But the screams and scoffs

Causes an eternal migraine

.

I can’t last, can’t escape

All the blood has exited my body

I can’t fake, I can’t take

Bury the creature in the cemetery.

~*~

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one would ever change this animal I have become
And we believe it’s not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal I have become
And we believe it’s not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal…

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in which love is just another imagined story by a hopeless writer who has dysgraphia

“and though to my arms you are forever lost,
you are a prisoner in my fantasy.”

~Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

~*~

you are my sweetest fiction,

conjured, derived from the very ends of

the lacklustre impediment

that is my algid imagination.

light calla lips flushed pleasantly

(though, i may only be imagining it so)

elusive soul a taunting fugitive

(from which i could never hope to catch

with bare hands and bare feet)

cerise smile melting upon liquid gaze

before i then realise—the blood was my own.

missing birthdays, unsent letters

piling into sealed dictionaries upon my oaken desk

and again, i weep the night sky

in the grievous absence of your starlight.

falling, falling; lilies, lilies,

plucked like shimmering innocence

from the skin of my gritted teeth, sighing

irreplaceable—!

though, your divine body is not mine

to ruin and revere relentlessly

under eternal storybooks and lost volumes of

anthologies, the empty pages

all at once interjecting: “impossible?!”

but, is it always so? must my fluttering shyness

be short-lived like your tyranny?

surely we must not always adore the

blinking butterflies, cascading iridescence

billowing solemnly into my reverie—

accidental interruption.

aralias, aralias; painful, painful;

i am to dirty fly as you are to decadent fruit

dragged down rather cruelly into

the ad infinitum of your fiery veneration

and i am unable to twist my words into cathartic

crashing, collapsing, holding it in…

but, i do not mind at all; for i lost mine

the moment you slipped from enthrallment into

the ache of my charismatic sternum,

submerging me in pacific oceans of desire—

enchantingly alluring me into the cozen, shackling confines

of the prison you call your heart.

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