Tag Archives: cry

Rebound

Too much animosity
Nobody does it better than the enemy
A hope like yours won’t help me now
You can do your worst to me
At the end of the day, that’s what you do best…

~*~

Call me only when your mind is fucked

Say “I love you” and I won’t say it back

Keep your hands to yourself, take it slow

Your orphan eyes won’t be my deathblow

.

Call me only when your eyes are red as day

Still high from crying, smoke the pain away

Knock on my door for three weeks straight

Be a sidewalk stray, love, know I won’t wait

.

Call me only when you need someone else

To be your plastic pleasure, I wish you well

Kill yourself drunk to crave yourself sober

I’ll only really be here to tell you it’s all over.

~*~

I wasn’t enough
You bled me dry, which way is up?
Oh, you’re a lie, and fake
I hope the truth is not too late
That’s what you do best!

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riparian

she is the

riverbank

that’s long

since dried up

i left her as

she gently

wept, a sullen

serenade

.

she is the

faint taste of

lavender in

my nightmares

i don’t miss it

all that much

but i still wake up

with wet eyes

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Unreachable

Maybe it’s just jealousy
Mixed up with a violent mind
A circumstance that
Doesn’t make much sense
Or maybe I’m just dumb…

~*~

Don’t dive headfirst into the raging currents

And loudly flail for help as you start to drown

Don’t dare to sit on that empty rusted throne

And get beheaded for the sake of an old crown

.

Don’t plead and weep and cry out to a missing god

And solely blame them for being bitterly cruel

Don’t vie for something you know you can’t have

And end up playing this world’s desperate fool.

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The Devil’s Vision

Must I denounce myself as a monster while you refuse to see the one growing inside you?” ~Hannibal Lecter

~*~

He drips blood from the corners of his sightless eyes

And wipes it off silently, praying no one has seen his lies

But the devil drew smiles just as he drew out red water

Devour the mind and heart, teeth a grim rorschach splatter

“What do you see?” asks he, as the clock begins unraveling

He pretends the blindfold is tight enough to obscure sin

Enemies will flee as their friends are turned upside-down

The blunt instrument glints, a masquerade of gruesome frowns

And at the edge of the madness, the verge of suspended hell again

The devil sits with discretion, adjusting his veil of human skin

As he tends to the fear, crying in vain, losing their very humanity

And the devil is hungry, oh-so hungry—“do…you…see…?”

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Desencion; Desperation.

fallen honesty

blinking back stubborn

tangents of another

monochrome lie

.

myth turned madness

barbed wires and concrete

as rain blinds curtains—

the spectators sigh

.

again. a fantasy coveted

by a horizonless mind

resenting. assenting. again;

their obsolete and arrogant cry.

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in[flu]ence

I have the fever all warmed up

For the poor sick little head

They’ll cry as they sleep, though

Still refused to get out of bed

I’ve got the fever all warmed up

For the screaming of the choir

I only caused a quiet grey smoke

But he still sets himself on fire.

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split-second thoughts in a night that never seems to end

I float there, transcend time, I wanna capture it accurately
I wanna know what the color of the blood was
Spilling out from the tarp onto the concrete
I wanna write it all down so I can always remember
If you could see it up close how could you ever forget?
How senseless death, how precious life
I wanna be there when the bullet hit…

~*~

the room seems to get colder. is it just me or am i dying?

fingers locked on empty biro, waiting for something bad to happen

“what are you so scared of?” the bones in my body scream

like i wasn’t simply bleeding, like it wasn’t just a dream

well, i’m scared that i’m useless and i’m fragile and i’m weak

and i can’t ever justify myself for everything that i feel

i’m scared that i don’t know what my brain is telling me

that i need some medication just to feel a little more sorry

and i don’t want to submerge and i don’t want to stay up

they tell me to cut it out but instead all i hear is cut

and i’ve had enough of scars and i’ve had enough of crying

but the windows are all dark and i’m still alone not trying

to change what i can conceal at the tip of my tongue

and the words that i’m struggling, still struggling to understand

and i create these bold distractions and pretend for a while

that hell isn’t a few steps over, ready to greet me with a smile

but when the truth comes crashing down, it’s all i can do not to crack

not to break myself overthinking and bend until it hurts my back

because there comes a point where enough is not enough

and the walls start closing in and the ceiling starts to laugh

so i step outside and wish for rain, but just like everything else

i ever wished for and wanted, it doesn’t come true to end this hell

and so i gaze at the stars to comfort me and simply calm me

and so i gaze at the stars to keep my mind off suicide

and remind me of the times when i didn’t have to wonder

why i look at the distant lights in those times when i remember

that the dark is nothing to be scared of except when i’m inside

waiting for the final answer that turns out to be a lie

as my coffee’s getting cold and my skin is getting tighter

i’m suffocating with each breath and each burn on the cigarette lighter

my twitches getting frantic and my pulse is a heart attack

beating to rhythms of “when will someone come to take me back?”

no, i can’t sing to save my life; i can’t even save my life

‘cause i’ve spent it all on daily lessons about wasting out the fight

and i’m still standing outside losing, when the sun overtakes the horizon

with the only force left in the world and the energy to go on

but i’ll wait for the end, even if that takes more than a million years

until i’ve turned into a monument and crumbled but the ending isn’t near

because i’ve contemplated and i’ve meditated and i’ve prayed to every god

but my eyes are a little blurrier and my palms impaled on metal rods

striking lightning, never raining, an automatic impulse sleeping in my bed

everything sounds a little too schizophrenic when they’re all talking in my head

so when i finally find the strength to step back into that empty room so cold

i found that the temperature was the same deadly dull, and i still do as i’m told

and i’m still tired of everything even if everything’s just a fictional retelling

in my head, in my sleep, as i dream, as i wake, as i live…is it just me or am i dying?

~*~

I felt the burden of murder
It shook the earth to the core
Felt like the world was collapsing
Then we heard him speak
“Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?”

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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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emergency, emergency!!

“Feeling so alone now, funny how you wish
Some way that you’ll die at the hospital…”

~*~

hospital red

violet tears crying

the lights are too bright

they say that i’m dying

.

transfusion red

violet bruises sighing

darkness overtakes me

i don’t want to keep on waking.

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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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