Tag Archives: count

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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W i t h o u t · A · S h a r p e r · K n i f e

Honesty sold-out at face value, the price you pay for distance

The depth of your wounds can’t be measured by the doctors in the ambulance

Complicate my rising lungs and grip my falling chestnut hair

Sleep in, I won’t keep bleeding out dreams if I know you’re always right there

This battle is yours to expiate, with every star there is to count

As multitudinous as the silver glistening in your face, an ebony ink tantamount

You’re regressing back to the rejected days of golden senescence

I wouldn’t let go of the only part of my life that makes any semblance of a sense.

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counting stars and other mayhem

“Stars awake
But we can’t see them out
So why pretend?”

~*~

come count the stars with me

for i am far too afraid to see

how much darkness there is

drinking in light on a chalice

.

reflect the moon in your eyes

like the final breath of paradise

i’ll never be able to take another

so i hold it in like i’m underwater

.

conjure another whimsical dream

where everything is more than it seems

and black is white, and grey is none

i’ll be falling west like the tenebrous sun

.

so come and count the stars with me

i wouldn’t be afraid anymore once i see

that in the consuming darkness, there is

a star glowing next to me, bathing me in universes.

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Six Feet Under, Stars Above

You’re just another set of bones to lay to rest
I guess it’s time to say goodnight
Hope you had a really good time, good time…

~*~

tonight, the sun will go down

along with a million stars into the ground

fading into silent eviction

and every speck i’ll count is but a perception

taste of blood i feel on my tongue

as heavy as the lonesome bed left unsung

muttering the wrong name on my drowsy lips

sharpening the needles of apologies

perhaps it’ll be alright, if i’m able

or perhaps i’ll end up sleeping on the kitchen table

with a Jack and a flat drunk dial tone

picking up where i left off on the disconnected telephone

but i will never forget your infinite sighs

when you whispered softly “we should die in style”

and tonight, when the sun goes down

i’ll be waiting for you, six feet under the ground.

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[00:13]

thirteen seconds

feel like infinity

when i count it

under my breath

thirteen seconds

turn into infinity

when i count it

but you still left.

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Seasons in Retrograde

Come at me with everything you’ve got
Burst into flames, s
cream in the dark
I’m gonna light up this place
And die in beautiful stars tonight…

~*~

They said it wouldn’t be easy

And being homesick is better than being alone

As the moon burst into flames

I ended up igniting under my coalescing bones

.

Throw me behind the darkness

And I’ll learn to breathe without the light

As the blade swings closer to me

Love, I’ll hold it back for you, and I’ll fight

.

I’m dizzy from wreaking all this havoc

Sober as the ashes melted in my numbing lips

Counting seconds until these stars drop

I’ll catch them like a nightmare, take and keep

.

Because everything looks even more beautiful

When I’m submerged a thousand feet deep in waters

And the undersea glow is a vicious accentuation

To those pale azure eyes that speak of blank aspiration

.

For they won’t come to take you back

And being homesick is better than being alone

As the midnight sun froze into winter

I ended up embracing the perennial cold for my own.

~*~

(What do you do when you’re out of time?)
(Where do you go when they’re right outside?)
(And how do you scream when there’s no one left around?)
I’m gonna light up this place (No one left around?)
And I will be the only light, I’ll be the only light.

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Mary’s Counting Dead Sheep Again

Mary had a little dream
Her eyes were blank and cold
And everywhere that Mary went
The beasts were sure to go…

~*~

Another night spent where there’s nothing but wasted thoughts arbitrarily presenting itself behind my star-sewn eyelids, slaughtering and slandering what little is left of the fleecy drowsiness that I stared the myriad astral bodies into. Horizons blend from honeysuckle sunsets into a velvety-rich midnight, every jaded memory and faded remembrance lying somnolent on my bed, and activated by the flick of an overused lamp switch. Nondescript chagrin is pressing softly at the back of my inundated throat; later on I’m aware that this force will grow until I begin to choke and fail to intake oxygen. For now, I exhale tiredly. The weight of the world trails behind my breath and sinks in the disturbed dust, kicking up old resentments.

I feel vexed. I shouldn’t be trusted to live up to the chimerical expectations that everyone has written down for me in indelible ink, as if it was the byzantine code that would unlock my stubborn rusted heart if they sharpened their blunt needles and tattooed it under the layers of my diaphanous flesh, into my clenched and straining muscles. It hurts, doesn’t it? The bared grins sneer unsympathetically, claws holding me down with incontestable strength, and it’s all I could do to complacently nod, cautiously wary of the glinting guillotine that’s dangling only inches away from my stiffened neck. I’m merely a plaster-cast mind, deranged and cracking under the pressure of the tattered cassock’s final judgment, and someday they will unsheathe me and mock my abstract art.

Despite the vainglorious efforts, painstaking hands filling in the voided gaps with purified liquid gold won’t fix me. It may look to be a desirable effect; yes, and perhaps it would do me good to have a little bit of luminance in the bare, simple vessel I questionably call my body. But in the end it’s nothing but a deceitful playact, an illusion of smoke and mirrors, fragrant cerise roses beneath the ravenous mucilage monster waiting for dear sweet Mary to reach out her delicate hands and get her cherry blonde locks entangled in the lethal thorns. And I do not wish to be darling strawberry-cheeked Mary, adored and oh-so glorified by everyone, yet playing the unfortunate lifeless victim in the end. I won’t be the one being grieved over, I won’t be at the receiving end of the sword; rather, I’ll be the merciless hand holding the ax and wiping the poison off her pallid blue lips.

And where does the verdict of the counseling jury lie, staring down upon me condescendingly with my indelible inked-on vices and gaping neck wounds from grazing the guillotine blade and the inevitable tempered gold patching up my shattered bones, as I hide the bloody murder weapon behind my back and cross my broken fingers, still tasting little Mary’s most saccharine sin and feeling the prickling sensations dig deep into my engraved palms? Will they immediately claim me guilty? Or is my goading charisma enough to get the edacious wolves begging for my forgiveness to save the hunt for another day? The questions hang from my pastel ceiling dreamily, yet the answer rests in my lurid nightmares, I know. I know. For now, I hold my breath and slowly close my star-sewn eyelids, counting the wasted thoughts dragging into another night spent and another soul selling out. One, two, three, four, five…

~*~

…They followed her when she woke up
She woke up, she woke up
They crept into her fragile heart
And made its beating stop.

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Stares on the Staircase

It’s more the same, a silly old shame
A dimly lit road, it will wither and go
I climb the light post, illuminate the road
For miles away, so safely on your way…

~*~

Counting all the steps on the spiraling staircase

Falling down and breaking my neck with grace

Didn’t know how much the water meant a thing

Until I quickly slipped away and lost my footing

I’ve counted all the steps on the spiraling staircase

Treads in the dark, but guess I counted it all wrong

It never meant a thing to you, it’s just a creaky place

‘Til my broken body’s lying motionless at the bottom.

~*~

Sleep and awaking to life, for a hell of a ride
Sleep and awaking to life
With your hands at your side, paralyzed…

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