Tag Archives: breath

Disembodied Silhouettes

My shadow no longer walks with me—

Not because there is no light to cast upon it,

But because it’s ashamed to take the very same path

My disgraced footsteps have left an imprint on

But could I blame my shadow for running away?

All it wants is a drop of tasteless medication

And I’m a lacklustre smile away from an overdose

Sitting here, under the ghostly orange of the streetlight

Watching the outline on the asphalt recede from me,

I count how many seconds it takes for me to get home

And pray under my breath that my shadow doesn’t follow.

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boy with the bullets (smith & wesson)

It’s not fair when you say that I didn’t try
I just don’t want to hear it anymore
I swear I never meant to let it die
I just don’t care about you anymore…

~*~

you’ve been nothing but good to me

and yet i treat you with feral viciousness

spitting sharp razors down your back

and taking a .45 to your bruised throat

like you deserved any of it at all,

but you don’t. if anything, i am the one

who needs to be put down, for all the

crimes i’ve committed against you,

for every inflicted pain and malicious insult,

for every tactless word that travels from

my mouth and straight to your lungs, making

you lose your breath’s momentum again;

for everything i did to you and everything i didn’t…

you deserve to pull the fucking t r i g g e r

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multiverse

Remember me, she whispered
Heaven’s so far out of reach, and keep me close
Like a moment you’re afraid to leave
So now this is how it feels when you’re all alone
This is how it feels when your heart starts racing
You can ask but you’ll never know
The way it feels, the way it feels…

~*~

we’re not in the same universe anymore

and our tears flow in different states—

almost as that of plasma and gravity,

perhaps identical, but not at all the same.

the nostalgia creeps up like bated breaths

dead into the silence in the middle of the night

and it stays to suffocate the humid air—

and it stays to suffocate the insomniac mind.

there’s some form of sophisticated equanimity

that was achieved by neither of our farewells,

because the end was approaching at breakneck speed

and there simply wasn’t any time to be more polite

cutting out crass with guns we left in each other’s mouths

hoping the trigger doesn’t get pulled with our fingers

like issues, contorted into funny shapes that don’t make sense

breaking off has never been so easy as a lacklustre smile

but the stars never forgive, even when they forget

and the light from the horizon flickers indistinguishably

forming a supernova of your voice, faint though almost palpable

branded like indelible ink stains on the canvas of my brain.

this reverberating staccato, this thoughtless caprice, this infinite lethargy…

it never ceases to write cold epistles even when i am fast asleep.

oftentimes, i look into the other dimension of that cracked mirror

into the faceless impostor, the version of me that existed

before you killed it off, and before i killed you off in my plane,

and wish to the efflorescing quarks that you’re feeling the same way.

~*~

Lost and terrible, hollow in ways you’ll never know
If it’s all in my head, all in my head
It’s heavier now than it’s ever been, so fake a memory
Keeping me quiet underneath
And if this is the end, if this is the end
Destroy everything and make it new again…

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L.D.N.S.F.G.T.

Mothers cast tears on both sides of the aisle
Clear your throat and face the world
The verdict falls like bachelors for bad luck girls
Only breathing with the aid of denial…

~*~

Baby girl, I think that some vulgar words

Just aren’t meant for your pretty little ears

.

You can throw away all those dirty looks

Or drive yourself home drinking sweeter tears

.

Don’t threaten me with a good damn time

Like the way your skirt curls when you stand in line

.

And the way life turns pure with the touch of a finger

That middle spot is so pristine, now ain’t it better?

.

Baby girl, just don’t strain yourself thinking

When the world’s too dumb to accept your sinking

.

So don’t waste that pretty little breath on your scream

Save it for when you’ve got something realer than a dream.

~*~

Case open, case shut
But you could pay to close it like a casket
Baby boy can’t lift his headache head
Isn’t it tragic?

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The Division

Let me count the ways you kill me;

1.) You carved promises at the notches of my brittle bones, mercilessly enthralling and hypnotising me under the anaesthetic assurance that everything was fine, that I was fine, and that I wouldn’t ever have to destroy myself again; but all the while, you crushed the very foundations beneath my suspended feet and made heaven shatter all around me like an ethereal motion sickness. And as if that wasn’t enough, you set everything on fire and watched this wretched phoenix turn to listless ashes, never to rise again; a demented conflagration.

2.) You promised me for better or for worse, but as I tried to find new names for the shade of red in my lips, you forgot about the obscene sickness that’s violently heaving inside my compromised chest and without so much as a twinge of second chances or point-blank hesitation, you injected every indistinct symptom known and unknown to man, turning my shaky breaths to crystalline lilacs and my selfish ribs to impure glass. I asked for a cure, and instead I received a despicable panacea, a myriad riot of plagues that irreparably devastated my system, ripping me to irreversible shreds. “You can’t get hurt if all you feel is hurt, right?”

3.) I’ve got hands like houses, and you rejected my severed hospitality as you broke down every locked door and deceptive boundary like it was nothing; like I was nothing. I constantly find myself lost in complicated syncopes, as I’m trapped spiraling and crawling back to the same self-sustaining cycles of parabolic grief and hypertensive schizophrenia, predicting premonitions that never came true. This eternal winter freezing over my bloodline is stitched together by a million blizzards and snowstorms conspiring exquisitely at once, but this difficult tantrum of a weather is not a tribulation to you, is it? Your cold temper is intolerable, a thousand suns melding together and detonating convulsively in the empty vacuum of space, and there’s no one else around to hear me scream one last time. I wanted to burn. You took it too far.

4.) Were you even sorry? Did you even feel a single taste of contrition when you watched my starving, pathetic soul grapple for life at the very nave of that decimated altar, asking for the silhouetted universe to fall on my back so that it wouldn’t be my fault, nor yours, that everything got screwed over? Did you see what I’ve done, just so I wouldn’t be what you’ve become? I couldn’t find my way back on the ground, so I swallowed my pride like pried coffin nails for the sake of a more poignant memory to remember; retribution heals what time cannot. Yet now I close my reckless eyes and softly coalesce in sadistic plumes of the miserable discourse you call an intravenous love, and I beg, and I beg. Were you even sorry at all?

5.) You are me, and I am you. I have no one. You are no one. When you lived, I died; and when you died, I along with you. I called it genocide. They called it desperation. For I am me, and you are you. There was no one else. They called it suicide. I call it salvation.

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gypsophila

i had a dream that

i plucked the flowers

from his chest and

his smile turned it into

a wilted bouquet.

with the stars wrapped

around the hem of

my sundress and saturn

crying for lost navy,

i was a callow-minded

breath beyond rain

and he told me i was an

endless night, but no,

i did not mind that at all.

for i was kept safe by

the space between his hands

where callas revolved

around forever; and forever,

like time, didn’t exist.

only him. and i. and a garden

full of impossibilities.

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delays

the heat is addling

the corners of my eyes

bleeding with tears

that i so madly despise

.

crowds so dense

they all suffocate

as footsteps go on

of weary and late

.

i take a breath

but i can find none

fun was all fun

but now it’s all done

.

i’m stuck and bored

i don’t know why i try

“home sweet home”

has never been such a lie.

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The Taste Of Bad Medicine

Drag my hand behind you
Like a chain behind a truck
Sparks over your carpet while
I chase you through the darkness
Somebody’s supposed to fall in love
But nobody even calls; somebody’s supposed to…

~*~

If I held the gun that made your insides feel worse

Tell me, is it still a blessing or have I become your curse?

Your marionette body makes me fall apart again

After I’ve taken my prescriptions and adjusted my skin

.

I’m too selfish to taste all these abrasive chemicals

Forming newer lies at the tip of my pale purple tongue

So won’t you take them away and shatter up these brick walls

That’s keeping my sanity in, just another emergency man

.

In the bedroom floor where our breaths feel like the new testament

My tell-tale heart is still writhing and clawing desperately at the cement

You buried me in black and white, but all I could see is an endless blue

Starving for some modesty like it’s some unheard modern-day virtue

.

So break me away, I’m responsible for this reckless self-medication

Just to sleep and dream a little longer, just to find something to hold on

Because all I hear is anguished screaming from the other side of that door

And I could only listen so much to this overdose before I could take no more

.

If I held all the pills that made your insides feel worse

Tell me, am I your blessing or do I have to call up a hearse?

Your puppeted agony makes me fall apart, and then

I’ll take two and pass out just so I could call you in the morning.

~*~

Tear this place apart
Until you find me hiding, silently I wait
You’ll be excited just to see me someday
Everything’s okay…

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Monsoon Wish

Just two days after the first of June
A pine with arms brushing off the dew
Unlike a sky copious with death
Precipitation of heart and head
Should wash the rest of her youth away…

~*~

Hey rain, ain’t you simply so sweet?

I’ve got a dollar on my heart and a nickel on my teeth

You’re unpredictable, I’m unreliable

Weave me a liquid chandelier from northern downfalls

I’ve got an amethyst dream memory

Such limitations are for not my pseudonymous reveries

And I watch them on my windowsill

Rewinding June’s finesse, as my lukewarm coffee spills

.

Hey rain, ain’t you simply so sweet?

I’ve got a song on my heart and ten albums on my teeth

Dedicated to you, an ode for evergreen

As each quavering soul begins to feel your sapphire skin

My bedroom is cold, a frostbite cinema

Forte crescendo of wooden floorboards, a classic wisteria

My breaths are cadenced, silence unsung

Hey rain, won’t you spare me a little sugar for my tongue?

~*~

Our days spent crossed out of Sunday school
July has always been shy of June
Some monsoon, monsoon, monsoon
Come heavy of a golden hue
My monsoon monsoon, monsoon…

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Rhyme and Reason

I’m a stray for blue boys and a songheart for little bo-peeps.

I wish I didn’t exist in dusty novels and forgotten storybooks the way that your obscene breath does, the way that your dreamscape wings fall off into ashes, the way that you simply do. Always in the ways that I couldn’t.

I despise myself for being a complete upside-down fool, madly limerent for this fiasco of a game that I’ve lost the moment before it even started, violently surrendered and beaten blonde and black to the point where I start doubting myself in bitter gunshots and giving my sweet bullets all up just so I could be your unsigned scarlet letter.

Do you understand me? Because I don’t.

I wish I would have written a hundred synesthetic postcards left unsent, but all I have are these hundred meretricious words to tell you what you don’t know. What you won’t know. And what you never will.

Stay lost, blue boy. Or you’ll end up like me.

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