Tag Archives: confession

Back To The Red Tapes

You are a handful of roses
Thorns and a cheap bouquet
True, I’m a walking disaster
They told you to stay away
Seems like I’m making
A deal with the devil…

~*~

I remember when we loathed each other

And what we wouldn’t do to one up and over

Subtle poison in each vindictive word and verse

Poised to hit the most vital organs and curse

.

We smeared the walls with our cold fresh blood

Leaving basilisk messages for another pitying god

And undertones of candy-coated punches in stitch

In plates of ‘hope you die, you conniving little bitch’

.

But sometimes the relapse was felt in compassion

A confusion of collisions, casting the condensation

I didn’t know if it was coincidence, or I was insane

But the universe parked parallel, changed the game

.

Passing the halls with the same songs in our mouths

Composing about the same things that gave us doubt

Secretly racing the other one for covert little challenges

And trying to push at each other’s buttons and nuisances

.

It was a mess, and the bleak battleground ain’t so pretty

But the smoke cleared up and the aftermath forgot me

Where the sun was aglow and my coffee tasted less bitter

And tears only came in the form of erupted endeavours

.

Now I read the past stories and I want to laugh out loud

Enough to disturb the anxiety that’s keeping my head out

The snide smirks, the loose lies, the entertaining electricity

Who knows what’s meant for you and what’s meant for me

.

After the sheer mayhem that came after each round of drinks

After every conversation held and confessions begging not to think

After all the chaos caused and the devastation left in its wake

It’s a lot easier to admit I’ll miss it—I’d listen again for a rewinded take.

~*~

‘Cause I feel like a bad joke
Walk the tight rope to hold onto you
Was it real? Or a love scene
From a bad dream? I don’t think
I can forget about it…

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The Last Victim

We are the walking dead
Swallow the lies we’re fed
Uncover your eyes, uncover your eyes
Uncover the truth and you’ll realize
We’re hanging by a thread
We are the walking dead…

~*~

I was convinced of myself, at first.

Before mercy turned to failure and hell begged over to madness, everything seemed to be quite rational. Perfectly-planned. Dare I even say, elegantly beautiful. The conceived scenario played out in my head like an unraveling film spiel, woven into a viscid, intricate web and ensnaring naive hearts, and the sharp, unexpected twist and blunted violent stab of that final ending made the jagged suspense, the heart-wrenching thrill, the never-ending mystery and uncertainty, every slighted emotion thrown out and ravaged by the starving sharks, all of it…made everything worth it.

But now all I have is murder in my tongue, lies over my eyes, and your blood on my hands.

How did it all come to this?

Everything looks so red, even after I thoroughly scrubbed myself clean of the transgression. I made sure to meticulously tidy everything up. White walls, white floor, white bleached palms, white light pouring over the windows, a whiteness so pure and bright it’s fucking blinding, but the red obstinately stays. And it stains. On the white walls, on the white floor, on my chafed shaky hands, all over the room’s white-blanched windows like a sinner’s stained glass art, that redness so dark and demented that I can’t even clearly discern anymore where the colour ends and the shadows begin.

I have no excuse. I have no absolution from the crime I’ve committed. I cannot be pardoned, cannot be forgiven, and I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done. I know I deserve a punishment of nothing less than death. But I didn’t know it would come to this. I didn’t know what I was doing.

But I’m not sorry. And if I had to do it again, I would. Without any hesitations. Without thinking twice.

Without thinking about it all.

God forgive me.

~*~

Can anything bring us back to life?
Will anything make us right?
Can anything bring us back to life?
I’m willing to make us right?
‘Cause the further that we’re falling apart
The more that it breaks my heart…

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left in stitches

my father sat beside me

and his eyes were in stitches.

i fidgeted, and touched the linoleum floor

with my cold bare feet;

my father didn’t say a word.

he merely stared at me with needle looks

threading unspoken thoughts over and

under my skin in tight crisscrosses.

i flinched, once again, and my feet instinctively

twitched to graze the floor, but i only

felt frigid air and a million miles of

nothingness beneath my cold bare feet.

i was starting to bleed profusely

and my numb fingers were convulsing

from the relentless tingling that was

overtaking every inch of my

breaking-down body

and still, i didn’t have a clue on

what was happening to me.

i tried to call out for help

but, it seemed that my crying mouth

was already sewn shut, and

my father was embroidering his

guilt and blame on my face,

cast fault and lost sins forming eternal

patterns of this knitted contrition,

writing down personal confessions

that were not even mine to begin with

and will never be mine to keep.

my eyes were slowly shutting now.

and with the last strength that i could

muster up within me, i pleaded silently with

my father, screaming “what have i done to you?”

but my father, with his eyes in stitches

and his love for me trapped in a needlepoint,

he finally looked away and murmured

“what have you done to yourself?”

i think i may have shed a tear (or lint?)

before the last of my vision was tied off

and i was nothing but endless unraveling threads—

i woke up quietly crying and suffocated

by my blanket, feeling soft prickles on the

numb arm i accidentally slept on.

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From Cathedral Confessionals To Vacant Motel Rooms

Give us this day our daily dose
Of faux affliction, forgive our sins
Forged at the pulpit with forked tongues
Selling faux sermons, cause I am a new wave
Gospel sharp, and you’ll be thy witness
So gentlemen, if you’re gonna preach
For God’s sake, preach with conviction!

~*~

Prayers at the pulpit, wasted sunlight stalked in grey

Cunning trick and guileful guilt trip theatrics at play

Cavalier coronary effusion, witnesses plead the fifth

The parish resident contradicts, as all the crosses lift

.

Glory conceived in savage strokes of bloodied wines

My conviction is an eviction, tell a jury lies this time

Plagued with gunslingers, spinsters, character shady

Debonair diner apparels, wrinkled trousers, humility

.

The constabulary and congregation condemned revolt

My empirical altruism’s the new cancer, neglect faults

Burlesque shame accentuating formaldehyde intimacy

Asbestos lips, flimsy camisole fumbled simultaneously

.

Tenant engaged medical malpractice, his landlord buys

Epileptic gloating and impertinence, furlough play nice

Sartorial sarcasm and wills held against the desperation

Divorcees eavesdrop on prudent prudes, commiseration

.

Perfumes and newspaper advertisements crying of weddings

Massacring a breathalyser, scotch in prefaced elevator scenes

A paperback syndication concealing secret wretched incident

The allegations made by schizophrenics held to be significant.

~*~

Strike up the band! Whoa-oh, the conductor is beckoning
Come congregation, let’s sing it like you mean it
No, don’t you get it, don’t you get it? Now don’t you move
Just stay where I can see you, douse the lights!

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lungs burned in liquor

Like a rush shot through you
Everyone is watching you…
Told you why I see no need for the sun
(I’ve found a reason to say)
A love you light is a love soon gone…

~*~

a rush of blood

under falling skin

serenade confessions

kissing chlorine

gift shop grenades

vertigo weaving clarity

mirror wounds

bleed out my vanity

so tell me again

my heartless lover

lips of rose and needles

an ornamented endeavour

feathers stir past the sea

cloudy sulphur halos

candle-lit reveries

drowned in pools shallow

perhaps this world is

better off without

a trace of vertical stripes

incarcerating doubts

flags of pure surrender

scarlet against satin

i’m dissecting dead stars

a lost name set in latin

my platinum eyes

scratched the vinyl record

sentimental titanium

wrapped in unravelled cords

a rush of oxygen

under decaying lungs

a promenade desperation

touching gasoline.

~*~

If this is it
Don’t bother ’cause this love is a lie
I’m a chemical kid
You’re a mechanical bride…

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enigma

i’ve told you

everything

there is to know

about me

so now why don’t

you be a dear

and spare me a

little bit of mystery?

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letters to s.d.: final fragment #8 {postscript}

Sent: June 28, 2017
Received: August 19, 2017

.

[REDACTED]c, p[REDACTED]re fucking for[REDACTED]le m[REDACTED]e.

.

i failed you.

i thought i could win

but i just let override me

i let it bite my skin

i let it numb and desensitise me

i can’t look you in the eye

as you tell me i’m at my best

but i look at your scars

and it feels like a stab in the chest

if you can, then i can too

but fuck, guess we’re both wrong

despite all my attempts

despite all your painless songs

save the time, as i’m falling

so goddamn stop me

but you can’t help anymore

it’s not like the way it used to be

this was…all for you

all for you alone, all this time

and aren’t i so selfless

to pay you with my crimes?

i remember that you always say

“darlin’, you’ll okay”

and i want so badly to believe

but i have a short breaking point

and this is all i can give

the choice is mine for the taking

what’s another funeral wake?

i’ve gone in far too deep in

and  i’m left with vanished stars

so i can only pick the best

and if i die, i can finally awaken

i’m a coward, i know

but you don’t have to be

struck with contrition for a

guileless naïve stranger

hell, i’m never strong enough

to overpower my own foolish self

that much, at least, is true

no, i’m just not fucking strong enough

f     o     r        y     o     u.

i’m so sorry, s.d.

.

but before i say goodbye permanently, i would like to confess that you’r[CONTENT MISSING]

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letters to s.d.: fragment #7 {heights}

i loa[REDACTED] [REDACTED]out [REDACTED]tor, alw[REDACTED] remember.

.

please don’t…

i can’t bear the thought

of this pen moving

and throwing up useless

bullshit yet again…

why do i try? why do i try?

i want to reach for you.

you’re only five feet six inches

short, but when i stand on

your shoulders, i see the whole

universe tearing itself up

apart in neon explosions and

consternated constellations,

and i’m the maestro conductor,

tapping away and waving

the concatenations, every beat

of discord, and the astral

symphony of an entropy.

save me with your caramel arms

don’t let me get sucked in

by the impending black hole

that nullifies every cell, every

song, every damn belief

in my body and system, until

i am reduced to cosmic echoes

of a voided wavelength,

fraudulent e.m.p.t.i.n.e.s.s.

and somehow i would rather

let this planet eat me away.

but don’t let my god go

away for me, love every comet

and asteroid as if it were

my heartbeat and soul,

manipulate the disaster of

my negative existence,

and kiss me goodnight on

this somnolent moontide.

i stopped these knives for you

i’ll make you proud again.

this time, i won’t let the demons

steal my comets and win.

my dearest s.d., you were

always a giant standing among

toy soldiers, so commandeer

the garrison of the angels straight

to heal my stretched humanity

and make my universe spin

once again. i’ll wish for your

comforting star each lonely night,

s.d., so please watch over me

and hope i don’t fall away this time.

love, wishes, and goodbye; signed,

your bleeding little blue moon.

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letters to s.d.: fragment #6 {promise}

darling, you[REDACTED] be [REDACTED]ay

.

i’m sorry.

i didn’t mean to.

what have i done.

i won’t think about it.

i won’t do it again.

for you, i’ll try.

not to die.

.

fuck fuck fuck fuck i’m d[REDACTED].

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letters to s.d.: fragment #5 {irony}

i ate sh[REDACTED] and vom[REDACTED]ed razor blades.

.

i’m sorry

i’m not strong

enough

to listen to

your words

i know you

did this before

and it fucking

H U R T

so you stopped

for your sake

but i’m not you

i only wish i

was with you

you’re the only

person who

believes in me,

and you never

met me in your

whole life

isn’t that funny?

i can’t stop.

after all,

it only hurts

when i laugh.

.

smile until the pa[REDACTED] turns to [REDACTED] and ashes.

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