Tag Archives: count

Knight Bright

I close my eyes

And all I see is purple

Like chewed gum

Or a pouting mouth

Trying to prove its point

Unsure of what to say,

It stutters and breaks

Into a torn-up smile—

Speaking like gasoline

Falling apart like an adjective

And dreaming like I’m not

Hurt by the seasick hope

And the disgrace in my blood

Rushing all the way to my

Face; the broken blush

Playing my madness in g sharp,

Counting the seconds until

I can close my eyes again

To see that purple mouth

Twisted up into a kiss.

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Eight-Ball/Outlook

I’ve eaten bricks for breakfast

And my tongue is set on fire

All my nerves have lost their nerve

And my brain’s a walking satire

.

As the people are counted off

Like the fingers I have trembling

Attend the wake of my mild mistakes

And rude intermittent whispering

.

So I wait, and I breathe, and I sit steady

As I wait for the signal to turn ready

So I wait, and I write, and I try to find

When my heart’s made up its mind.

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anatomical dissection: brain

what hurts more,

remembering to forget

or forgetting to remember?

.

you count all the wins

and all the pyrrhic losses

that take your victories under

.

what hurts more,

the scars on your shoulders

or the scars inside your mind?

.

invisible to the naked eye

but a succumbing force that

makes you lose what you’ll find

.

what hurts more,

staying for the sake of leaving

or living for the sake of staying?

.

lock the pain up in your room

and hope this house burns down

with you still trapped inside, crying

.

what hurts more,

all the words that they said

or the words you never spoke?

.

sticks and stones don’t break bones

but splints and cement puts them back

quietly mending what you always broke

.

what hurts more,

knowing too much of everything

or drowning in your own ignorance?

.

scourge for knowledge, miss for bliss

drain the oceans and fill up the abyss

self-hatred fighting your self-defiance

.

what hurts more,

this cold logical ideology

or the lying sentimental truth?

.

it’s a constant push and pull

of devastating dreams and riled reality

inspiring like the rabbit inspires the wolf

.

what hurts more,

overthinking things again

or not thinking about it at all?

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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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Guess Everyone’s Over Feeling Fantastic

For the past couple weeks I’ve felt kind of great
But this kind of great don’t come without its share of grey
I’ve been chewing off bites from my day to day
But by night I’m left with nothing but a sour taste…

~*~

It’s not that you’re mesmerising

Just the natural shade of blue

Your eyes are rainy comforting

You’re my cloudy day in June

And I’m always counting off

Seconds over your quaint smile

And I will get to a million one

Before you can find out why

So don’t pretend to understand

I’ll stop cheating when you’ll sing

About the grey sunflowers sour

Replaying once again and again

They say I’m stupid for the doses

That dazed the growing crisis in me

Drink up and take it more serious

Like it’s the useless type of surgery

It’s not like you are everything

You’re just my natural shade of pink

I’m gloomy and my chest is stormy

But you’re the feeling I don’t have to think.

~*~

I wish I could forget you, but it’s out of hand
I’d give all kinds of something to have a plan
I could write a couple lines that’d fall into a phrase
But I’m afraid I’d go off for days and days and days and days…

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Mister Doctor Man, How Much For An Autopsy?

I’m Mr. Doctor Man who questions his hands
Lost his mind, but clinically fine
But he found a way to cope, needle in his throat
Falling down, but the world is spinning round
And round, he knows…

~*~

Your arcane consonance is another memory in my eyes

Candelabras, needles, and shale skin is what’s left of me

Sabotaging the magnitude, time is but another simple lie

I’ll be the sick boy soldier patching up your indigo eternity

.

But don’t count me out like the silver glitter in your dress

I may be a fair firmament forecast, but you’re a bad omen

Perhaps your vignettes are perverse, and I’m lost in senses

Remnants of irrational contusions, in a masquerade pretend

.

My artful catastrophe is another remembrance in colder eyes

Chandeliers, syringes, and shallow flesh was what’s left of you

Serrated mutinous, time is but another complicated way to die

You’ll be the sad girl doctor breaking down my lavender infinity.

~*~

Honestly, it’s running through my veins
You see? I don’t need their surgeries
I just wanna breathe; they’re coming after me…

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Do You Want It All?

Cause I’m tired and I’m restless
And I’m pretty sure I met my match
And I lie here defenceless
I’m the Sunday hunters weekend war
I’ve been here, I’ve been here before…

~*~

My whole throat is wrapped all around the bedroom

And they’re singing “you’re gonna get what’s coming to you”

But I dance along to the beat of summer’s monsoons

Spinning hurricanes like weekends behind your eyes so blue

Come see me in the days that you always counted down

Starving the thoughts in your head without a simpler warning

To taste the pillows like it’s mint chocolates in a hotel bed

So when you drink your coffee, it will sting like a sour morning

But you won’t haunt me all the way into the suffocating dirt

Wash those stains off your collar and lead the colours to the earth

Take a long walk in sunset park, and I will make you believe

You will get what’s coming to you, and it’s more than what you need.

~*~

This is a warning, never gonna get
Never gonna get me out this town
Let’s start the mourning, never gonna see
Never gonna see another day…

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Emergency Call

I saw you move from across the room
I knew who you were
You act like you are afraid of who you are
I’m afraid for you…

~*~

I don’t want to be here

Constantly begging to be saved

By the hearts that don’t care

If my tongue is set on fire

.

Unsettled and reduced to hiding

Counting every line obscured

In the hopes that maybe this time,

I don’t have to hurt anymore

.

I don’t want to look inside

I don’t want to see myself again

And see nothing else but nothing

I don’t believe in anything else

.

I don’t want to ask stupidly again

And receive stares for an answer

It’s not like me to be fully aware

I’m better off lost, staying quiet

.

I don’t want to be here

Constantly saving to be begged

By the hearts that never cared

If my hands are set on fire

.

Unnerved and reduced to nooks

Creating every line unveiled

In the hopes that maybe this time,

It would hurt just a little more.

~*~

I can save you
If you ask me, just ask me to
There’s hope for you tonight
I can save you
If you ask me, just ask me to
I can save your life…

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luna cielo

for there never was

and never will be

a finer vagrant soul

to poetically allude me

than the billows of notes

that fall from your shade

and the stars in your lips

to sing a thousand serenades

dear, if only i could compose

about all my woeful throes

in lights enchanting as yours

no word a wasted recourse

and the aesthete that lies

beneath restless amber eyes

will dream up a promise

for fallen eternity’s premise

where the universe spins

as relentless time should be

and no whispers of parallels

between the lines of you and me

i’m quite dizzy from the sun again

but i’ll close my hands, count to ten

and wait against such fragile hope

that you’re the sunrise to decode

so why do i weep, ever still?

in the midst of my bedroom floor

only bare remnants remain, until

a voice paints a distant nevermore

of faithless keep, an endless rue

tomorrow’s heart, nor i nor you

southern nights, quaint afterglow

the days pass on as we’ll quietly go

i may be weary, yet do not think

i’ll give up when i’m on the brink

let’s chase the wind, and we’ll ascend

to an everlasting paradise we can spend

for there never was and never will be

a finer valiant soul to poetically allure me

than the muse of the moon and billowing notes

that fall from your shade and the stars that you wrote.

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Broadcasting Live From The Seatbelt

Come one, come all, you’re just in time
To witness my first breakdown
‘Cause there’s a mile gone
For every minute passed
When I’m stuck in this town…

~*~

For every minute I count at the tip of my jaded palm

Makes me believe that I can actually give a damn

Third time’s the charm, but the thirtieth’s just tiring

I’ll save my breath for the holidays I won’t be taking

.

Change the radio station when nothing good’s ever on

Witness as I crash my car high on the beat of a breakdown

Just to make the news, just ‘cause I’m fucking bored

At least something exciting happened in this deadbeat town

.

But I don’t need a doctor, and I don’t need more pills

I’m not crazy, just feeling sorry that I don’t know what to feel

Passed out from the traffic fumes, stuck in my head for hours

Wishing I had better hair, wishing I had superpowers

.

And I’m not coming clean, what else is the reason now?

Dreams don’t come for free, especially not in this late hour

My stereo’s playing the greatest hits, I’m so sick of hearing it

I’d drink beer and smoke a drag, but I don’t know when to quit

.

For every second and mile that I waste, wasted off these foolish promises

Like my ragged backseat holster and stained carpet, my existence is a mess

And this just in, the latest breaking news is that I’m already fucking breaking

But I’ll step on the brakes until it stops, until I don’t know which road I’m taking.

~*~

So go on and lock me up, you better throw away that key
Before I find out where you broadcast from
Because your playlist is killing me
I’ll change that station, light it up like the 4th of July
It’s me, I’m caller fifteen, time to play my last request…

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