Tag Archives: carry

win, win, lose

one step

forward

and two

steps back

you did

what you

can carry

and the rest

is up to me.

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mental block. (6)

***

i’ve mastered the

art of self-apathy

but somehow your

problems and burdens

become mine to carry.

***

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a muse’s musings

you gave me

a brilliant surge

of optimism—

so bright, it’s

rather painful

i was never one

to count my stars

before they appear

but now i’m hopeful

for all of the doubts

incarcerated me

and it’s always

disappointingly brutal

but now you’re here

with a sign so clear

so i’ll hold on and

carry on until i’m far.

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Reckless Imprudence

I’ll get carried away and bleed on the dirt

Slit the pressure in my ribs, and you taunt “does it hurt?”

Another taste of the botulism manifesting rabid

Who knew that gangrenous paradise was so damn sordid?

Ready to take a shot at the cheapened aphorisms

As the rules are circumvented to your selfish nihilism

Trapping your sulphurous words like roadkill on the street

So run me over once again, let it be my special treat

And if you can’t take my guts cascading red on the tarmac

Suck it up and step on me for a final dose of ipecac

As it leaves your callous throat and leaves bruises in your stomach

Carried away by the violence, and this mess you won’t fucking take back.

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All Hail The King

Your cruelty clings to my broken wings
You wrote this in your scarlet letter
You’re a whore for feelings
A touch-me junkie scraping by the skin
Of someone who’s better…

~*~

It’s the way he carries himself

As if the world should bow to him

Each step a dramatic flair

With much regard and self-esteem

.

The way he looks down on people

Like he’s such a special case

With a practiced condescending sneer

Etched on his fist-worthy face

.

The way he degrades and consumes

Getting bites big enough to chew

When he has used and spat you out

He’s completely through with you

.

The way he thinks he’s all there is

And the universe on their shoulders is his

He’s got his friends, got his enemies

He’s got his plastic talent and camaraderie

.

And it’s the way he carries himself

As if he is the king of this whole damn thing

But he’s just a power-tripping man charged with treason

Prepped and ready for his final execution.

~*~

You’ve got it wrong, weakness is the body leaving pain
You like the way it hurts, the scar, the stain
You’re in the gutter, the kind of filth that makes me shutter
What you can’t change will remain the same…

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Sleep (is but a dream)

and the words in

my head whispered

(sleep, my dear

you’ll feel better)

but i couldn’t close

my eyes (no matter how

heavy they are)

falling into tonus as

quiet and abyssal

(as the thoughts that

weigh me down)

until my pen no longer

makes sense, fading

and smudging (into an

undecipherable madman’s

meandering laments)

and i wish, and so i wish

for a taste of the stars

(i wish on the sun for some

light to carry home) and

the soft words in my head

whisper (sleep, my dear

after all, there’s nothing better.)

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Somaesthetics

Something filled up my heart with nothing
Someone told me not to cry
But now that I’m older, my heart’s colder
And I can see that it’s a lie
Children, wake up, hold your mistake up
Before they turn the summer into dust…

~*~

carry me through

what could have been

injections and evolutions

under jaded azaleas

full moon waltzing in

crests of hillside repentance

oh, how the violas sing

for the desuetude of their whim

is there a feather in flight?

or am i merely hallucinating?

answer not my inquiry

and let the mirages dream

in an adenochrome perspicacity

and cryogenic sunlight

as if the stars are a talisman

to your manic narcotics

they won’t steal a lullaby

simply so you can push back

the ocean waves with your palms

and set the branches on fire

no; if then, where will we be?

haunted by archaic conglomeration

of words whispered with your

carcinogenic nicotine lips

tasting the heroin with needles

and rusted safety pins

but lusting for the lancinating

ripples of wearied crucible

who knew addiction is so grand?

but like the allegories you

stabbed in the acheronian dark

and the promises that we’ve

sewn on our paper wrists

impediments and lassitudes

are but an oil burner in the cellar

whose arrhythmic flame

snuffs out with the damping

tempestuous breeze of your own scathed

somaesthesia and noiseless lungs.

~*~

If the children don’t grow up, our bodies get bigger
But our hearts get torn up, we’re just a million little gods
Causing rain storms, turning every good thing to rust
I guess we’ll just have to adjust…

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Death is a Butterfly in a Mason Jar

For death is something

That cannot be caught in butterfly nets

And kept trapped in glass jars

Death cannot be locked by time alone

Its shadowy wings must flutter

Like ashes through smoke

And search for a breath to steal

As it cannot create its own, only pilfer

Death suckles on nectar tears

Sweet to its palate as it is bitter to mortals

Indulge in soft, exquisite decay

Within the lost garden of perennial grief

All before its delicate withering skin

Touches upon an unfortunate fragile falling chest

And suffocates it with gossamer light

Until ceases it to rise once more

Death is beauty and darkness intertwined

Like a balloon string entangled on a white rose stem

Or blood on a stained glass window

Not all can appreciate its grotesque sensibility

As they fear for their mortality

They simply fail to view past the thin veil

To reveal a nurturing, solitary entity

For death is lone, but it must never be lonely

A heart to bring, one soul to reap

For death must always carry one life

Before it takes away its own.

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Twelve Kilometres: Epilogue

Both soles are screaming to be put out

As the fires in my feet spread, no doubt

Walking a million miles, was it worth it?

The answer hangs unsure against heat

Though the question remains unbroken

I walk on a boulevard of glass and nails

All prejudices and kvetch left unspoken

My trembling sprained legs carry the trail.

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The Beast Below

A gargantuan soul, species the very last of its kind

A body of peach and golden intention in its mind

A lonely old heart, yet with a nature quite gentle

Despite our cruelty, carried still the burden it fell

Further deep down, where its love has sustained

The dreams we keep and the world we remained

We sleep sound, and breathe easy, and we thus grow

Live on, rest calm, supported by the benevolent beast below.

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