Tag Archives: concept

Catch Fire


ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏ ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴇᴍᴇᴛᴇʀʏ
ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ
ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ‘ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ
ɪ’ᴍ ᴀ sᴡɪᴛᴄʜʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴅʟɪɴᴇs
ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ᴀ sᴘɪᴋᴇ
ᴀ sᴘɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴇʀɴᴜᴍ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ…


bodies burn like the sunrise aftermath of the destruction

your lies caused—fractured spines ripped apart and counted

with the notches in their fingers, just a sinner’s aggravation

blindly feeding the grand delusion of pure freedom into

the prison cells rusted with blatant injustice, as you plead

for your worthless life and try to prove you’re not a stigma

you have holes under your palms and feet but you can’t

convince the world that you’re the second coming of christ

he’s fucking dead like your family, like you, like the stability

you once had before you hacked away at it with a blunt axe

from your locked toolshed—you left them all for dead, did

you leave even just one splintered breath? a single dose

of comatose or even close would have been enough for

a plea conviction, but every degree was coldly violated

you’re too violent! send the sordid sentence for electrocution

right away tonight, families will sleep a little safer and the

streets spilled with less vomit and spit, the constables

rejoice in favour of another bigger shrimp to fry—did you

even say goodbye? when the glow from their dwindling vision

flickered into the end of the tunnel that you’re chasing, how did

the liquid rose taste when you splattered the shattered mirror

trying to get it off your hands, did you really think it would stay

there forever like the devil on your shoulder? digging in deeper and

deeper, that’s why you smile so crookedly, and the steel manacles

aren’t helping with your shambling gait, either. now, look at the iron

witnesses and the tear-stained grievers and the burly man by the switch

whose teeth is a nasty shade of nicotine brown, like your last meal that

has been as bland as the bible verses of bullshit being spewed by the pastor

holy water nearly drowns you but it can’t drown out all the crying, the

blindfold’s suffocating but the disillusions inside your mind are ever

spinning, chew the rubber wedged between your mouth in agitation

don’t let them smell the fear, don’t let them know you’re here, don’t—

enough with the drama. enough is enough. enough will be the end.

and if anyone dares to ask you now, tell them just one more stunning lie,

“i don’t fucking deserve this.” famous last words, the very tail end

interrupted by one sickening jolt as the entire world lights up for your crimes

and the body of a monster finally burns away into the final sunset’s demise.


ᴄᴜʀʙ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴜʀᴇ
ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs
ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ
ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴍᴇ ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ?


Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Sweetest Intimacy

Would you let me

Place my tender hands

On your warm chest

So I could cut you open

With a blunt scalpel

And let my fingers flow

Against your insides

That slippery sensation

Of panicking blood

Against this living flesh

Crushing the oxygen

Tracing lines around your

Lungs like star signs

Of a sky trapped behind

An ivory cage—spare

Me a rib or a vein or two

As my hands shall be

Exploring you way further

Find organs to suture

Or prod you into laughter

Are you ticklish here?

On your stomach, in your

Punctured diaphragm

No need to ask if you have

Got the guts, but don’t

Be heartless, I’ll miss your

Larynx for that chuckle

All before I stain your neck

With the red of your

Slowing aorta, and set you

Free with a final gasp

And just one gentle little snap.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Elizabeth and the Zealot

His embittered smile proclaims of an innocently senile man, but his rancid breath reeks of irreparable psychological damage.

Outside, a group of children playing tag in the playground across the street, clambering across loose gravel and joyously shrieking as outstretched hands willingly grab for their shoulders, caught unaware and simply caught.

Inside his shirt, the old crucifix his long-deceased mother gave him on the brink of her deathbed, clasp half-broken and several priceless encrusted jewels missing; a toothless grin, unfaithful gaps. The tiny metal weighs heavily against his unwashed chest, the unpleasant sensation almost burning a hole through his heart. Sometimes, he mutters a memorised creed out of reflex, though no one believes in it anymore. Perhaps not even God Himself. But him?

Mindless gazes. The chipped, mouldy statue of a weeping wooden saint in one dark nook of the living room, rotting food and dusty candles its ever-resilient offering. The mirror, barely reflective, smudged with soot and cobwebs and his tuberculosis-infected saliva. The closed window beside him like a sleepy eye, tiringly wary as it occasionally betrays a resounding laugh or a glimpse of excitedly-billowing hair. He forgets so many things nowadays, but he always remembers. The children. He must watch the children.

Or else?

Or else…

Grabbing his ragged coat from the settee, the man coughed into his fist once, twice, and absently wiped the offending knuckle onto his beige pants. He headed for the door and resolutely grabbed the tarnished doorknob with a shaky hand. The hinges squeaked. A child, perhaps the acting leader of the pack, called out for everyone’s attention as he insisted to play hide and seek.

A countdown, and the palpable air of small bodies scattering. The man decided musingly, that he would humour them and join in their little pastime. He’s always been good at hiding. Though, he sighed out in quiet lamentation, with his old age and raging rheumatism, it would not really make the job any easier for him.

But only one child would win the game that night.

No one would ever find her.

He’ll make sure of that.

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

voyeurism

conceal the past

wipe your filthy mouth

but your bridal dress

is quite sleeveless

and there’s too much

blood to staunch now—

now am i your perfect

silent witness?

.

the curtain protesting

against my hunched

body, you thought it was

just the midnight wind

billowing, but it was the

breaths i failed to hold

shallowly enraged and

almost fucking deranged

.

as the unspeakable acts are

fed to me live right before

my eyes, i want to throw up

i want to stain my melting mind

with a heavy dose of ammonia

and scream to god, and scream

to stop, let my oxygen burst into

flames from immense friction

.

disgusted beyond rationality

i can’t look away, my skin shudders

as i seem to hear yours being viciously

torn apart with a sickening rip and

a sickening crunch and a sickening

laugh—but why was it yours, shit

why the fuck was it yours?! eerie calm

ensues but i’m afraid to come out

.

from my flimsy hiding place—all before the lights

turn off and a shadow shifts in front of me…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Locked-In

Tell me, did your throat close up

When fingers wrapped around it like

Marionette strings, spindly and ready

To be pulled and consumed, or did

You get a final chance to scream?

.

Did your dear friends pick up your call

Or did your neighbours come a-knocking

When you showed up with purple bruises

On the underside of your crooked blank stare

Or your the therapist dismiss it as insomnia?

.

When the comatose finally began, and your

Rigid flesh contracted as if doused with ice

Water, as you didn’t even take a hot second

To shiver and whimper, dreaded rigor mortis

Taking over, did you try to wake yourself up?

.

Tell me, were your glassy eyes still open

When they stuffed you in that metal box

And the starving flames licked at your body

God’s merciful wrath your only sanctity, or

Were you lucky enough to blink just one last time?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

lesser of evils

sever the guidance

that takes on the dirt

transforming their silence

dismember your worth

.

crushed like full moons

finger pointed and waiting

meet your maker soon

but escape their sedating

.

remove the pure persistence

that dares test your goodwill

and if all else calls to failure

hold up your soul and kneel.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Still. Alive.

We are made of confused atoms and endless fathoms

And falling in love, in the wrong place at the wrong time

Chasing cigarettes on sixth street astride a flock of pigeons

On a sombre wedding day, runaway like the cotton-lily bride

But her wrists are coated with bright red lipstick she wiped off

After she found out that happily ever after didn’t really exist, train

Dragging along the sidewalk, scraped skateboards and wet chalk

And grinding teeth and damp laundry scattered by grumpy landlords

Perfect enemies knocking down old drywall while the rats complain

And the best friend you haven’t talked to in decades just showed up

At your doorstep dead 2 AM, mostly drunk sometimes troubled to crash

In your couch, grin that familiar grin and ask you how you’re doing

Pretend that the medication in the bathroom cabinet’s only Ambien

And quietly sneak out the morning barelaced and shamefaced so

You’re all alone again, tapping to the faded songs you never recorded

Right by the dusty windowsill as elusive spiders build their homes in

The flat you can’t quite call your home, haunted by strangers’ past bodies

And his awful-scented aftershave of coriander that seems to linger forever

And an uprising in every locked closet hiding identities and mothballs and

Childhood VHS tapes and taped-up mystery boxes containing what might

Just be forgotten yellowing letters and cheesy postcards from every state, or

The very key to unlocking the ultimate truth of the entire universe itself…

But we’re all too busy losing our phases and being torn back to ashes to ever find out.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

The Victim of the Hour

Take the empty bullet hanging from my neck, why don’t you?

Why don’t you? Just take and lodge the last remaining pieces

Of the picture on the wall (where you used to pound your fists)

Into the judged severity of my severed jugular, maybe that

Will mend it medicine man, maybe you will find me again

(Barely breathing) Barely breathing just after that horrid sound rang

Through the night? Yes, through the night! The neighbours’ screams

Were not much louder than mine—pity—but it isn’t an awful contest

Just injustice in motion (you see) and you killed the only person

That was trying to set you free. Free the trigger, why don’t you?

Why don’t you? Are you scared they’ll come after you, after me?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Quantum Immorality

find caution, cascading in

myriad throes of guns and

faded starlight, held back

only by the darkness, stark—

bleeding. animosity presents

in the manner of a wornout

theatre pantomime, painted

faces, lacklustre marionettes

scarlet eye and lithium inhale

redolences and sedated mire

platitudes forsaken by saints

cathedrals of human blasphemy

and in absentia, soulful requiem

chanted towards their heavens

crescendo. swelling lamentation

a bitter reluctance held forth by

admonition of sins baptised for

vile manipulation, underwater

torture, clergies in brothels and

a tempest in allegro—a visceral

cacophony revolted and created

polarised transgressions feeding

on facsimiles, cautious, nebulous

sleep now and forever hold your peace.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Shades of You

Grey, that’s all there is now.

I used to be the brightest iteration of alizarin crimson, and I wore my lustrous colours proudly on my chest to disguise the bloody cancer secretly tearing irreparable holes inside my slowly-withering system. So bold and reckless I was, that soon I found myself losing full control and suddenly careening headfirst onto your blue brick wall, and well…the collision was more violent, more radiant, more spectacular than you and I and anyone else could ever begin to imagine. No freshest shade of unhealing bruise nor deepest sour of aged wine could ever compare to the stunning explosion of blinding indigo we left on the scene of the accident, that day. The perfect way your incandescent glows and mine contrasted together and exquisitely showered the atmosphere, it was rather exhilarating.

But like everything that’s been left out under the sun just a little too long, the vibrant hues we initially adored and reverently shared started to quietly fade; akin to a rampant disease viciously working its way past our frail bodies, fingertips first. We could do naught but weep dull stardust as we held ourselves together in the tightest embrace, in the desperate yet ultimately futile hopes that we could still preserve our deteriorating youth—that if we hid away well enough, we could keep even just a sliver, even just a sleepless teardrop, of the resplendent spectrum we once thought we would carry along with the siren songs of this universe forever.

But in the end, it was all for nothing.

Soon enough, you had strangely turned into a serpentine shade of lucid green, and my hazy eyes began to see nothing else but charcoal wastelands and bleeding ash. Oh, how we’ve both drastically changed. And maybe not quite for the better. Still, I don’t wish to stain your newfound emerald gleam with my obscene tenebrescence, so as much as it caused a solemn ache to my soulful bones, I decided to completely detach myself and stay away from you for the time being. Instead, I’ll simply attempt to completely capture your eternal likeness onto pure cotton canvas—resolutely translating all of those clashing galaxies and kaleidoscopic tones into softer stencils and lifeless monochrome.

Perhaps someday, if I blink the awaiting future away and press on my eyelids hard enough, it might conjure back even a stray phantom of the forgotten iridescence that your dull, graphite-sketched countenance used to boast; gentle pastels warmly seeping in and bringing back the dusky ochre in your hair, the cloudless afternoon horizons back in your irises, perhaps even reviving the blushing cosmos of your clever lips, boyish and lazily smug as it twists into an elegant sunflower smile. The worst kind. The kind I somehow find myself missing the most these days.

But for now, grey is the only undertone I unfortunately possess. And it’s the only way I could captivate your ephemeral memory to return home within my gossamer dreams night after night after night, until my tiring lungs finally let go of my last saved breath and I inevitably coalesce into a sepulchral heaven—a bleak, distorted paradise where I’ll be doomed to roam with fellow spirits of black and white, for deathless infinities to come.

And after then, after then…who will be left to remember your name?

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose