Tag Archives: cure

malencolie

whenever i am

struck with

melancholy,

i seem to find

that you are

both the cause

and the cure.

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colic

you are like

a bloom of cancer

in the pits of my

empty stomach

wide awake and half

meant for graves

and ingratitude

scarlet vindication

a twist of white lies

telling me everything is

alright, when i’ve got

one foot in your mouth

another decapitated

by the knife down

my back, nonetheless

but i’m coughing out

my veins anyway,

you reason—sad to

say that i see your point

and pray to it like it’s

my fucking gospel

like i’ll truly be saved by

your invisible god

because that’s all you

ever want me to do

you make me love feeling

like i’m far too weak

so i hope you’ll do me

one last favour and pull the

plug on me, just before

they find the miracle cure.

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Next Time, It’s Not Just Going To Be A Graze Wound

If you could just step back and try to listen
You would have this all figured out
But your temptations start taking over
Bite and chew the hand that feeds you and I
I am the wretched wolf, feed my disguise
Learning while they cry lines of regret and despair…

~*~

And they’ll call you when you’re still sober, with twisted mouths bleeding smoke

From sucking on the saccharine pressure of trying to get high on smuggled hope

Is it still enough to endure? To find the side of you that’s not desperately aphotic?

Try to play it nice with the drunken sycophants and end up feeling nearly psychotic

.

Find another damn to waste and throw away the restricting boundaries within

It doesn’t count if it’s just a misdirected shot that all the cowards dragged you in

Changing your identity at the bottom of a broken bottle to save yourself some hours

It doesn’t feel so good to lie when your bloody stomach’s spitting out decaying sour

.

But it’s still fine…isn’t it? It’s what everyone does to get by and get away nowadays

Just to be dragged out by their brittle hairs into a world that’s devoid of paper-thin pain

Writing stories fit for prideful cuckolds while your inkstained hands are shaking with guilt

With your lover burning on the stake for the sins you’ve done, all’s fair in love and war and filth

.

And they’ll call you when you’re a total failure, with twisted smirks saying “I told you so”

Pretending to be your closest best friend but only arriving just in time for the final show

Have you found your perfect cure yet? The healthy overdose that’s bound to knock you out?

Try to be half the man you could never be, you know you’re gonna fucking get it now.

~*~

Yet there is no sincerity in the voice projected towards me
Taking the turn of a life and proceed to recycle
The smut into a powerful statue to show
Which way is home and which way leads to my mouth
Drowning all our fears in a euphoric stream of acid…

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The Division

Let me count the ways you kill me;

1.) You carved promises at the notches of my brittle bones, mercilessly enthralling and hypnotising me under the anaesthetic assurance that everything was fine, that I was fine, and that I wouldn’t ever have to destroy myself again; but all the while, you crushed the very foundations beneath my suspended feet and made heaven shatter all around me like an ethereal motion sickness. And as if that wasn’t enough, you set everything on fire and watched this wretched phoenix turn to listless ashes, never to rise again; a demented conflagration.

2.) You promised me for better or for worse, but as I tried to find new names for the shade of red in my lips, you forgot about the obscene sickness that’s violently heaving inside my compromised chest and without so much as a twinge of second chances or point-blank hesitation, you injected every indistinct symptom known and unknown to man, turning my shaky breaths to crystalline lilacs and my selfish ribs to impure glass. I asked for a cure, and instead I received a despicable panacea, a myriad riot of plagues that irreparably devastated my system, ripping me to irreversible shreds. “You can’t get hurt if all you feel is hurt, right?”

3.) I’ve got hands like houses, and you rejected my severed hospitality as you broke down every locked door and deceptive boundary like it was nothing; like I was nothing. I constantly find myself lost in complicated syncopes, as I’m trapped spiraling and crawling back to the same self-sustaining cycles of parabolic grief and hypertensive schizophrenia, predicting premonitions that never came true. This eternal winter freezing over my bloodline is stitched together by a million blizzards and snowstorms conspiring exquisitely at once, but this difficult tantrum of a weather is not a tribulation to you, is it? Your cold temper is intolerable, a thousand suns melding together and detonating convulsively in the empty vacuum of space, and there’s no one else around to hear me scream one last time. I wanted to burn. You took it too far.

4.) Were you even sorry? Did you even feel a single taste of contrition when you watched my starving, pathetic soul grapple for life at the very nave of that decimated altar, asking for the silhouetted universe to fall on my back so that it wouldn’t be my fault, nor yours, that everything got screwed over? Did you see what I’ve done, just so I wouldn’t be what you’ve become? I couldn’t find my way back on the ground, so I swallowed my pride like pried coffin nails for the sake of a more poignant memory to remember; retribution heals what time cannot. Yet now I close my reckless eyes and softly coalesce in sadistic plumes of the miserable discourse you call an intravenous love, and I beg, and I beg. Were you even sorry at all?

5.) You are me, and I am you. I have no one. You are no one. When you lived, I died; and when you died, I along with you. I called it genocide. They called it desperation. For I am me, and you are you. There was no one else. They called it suicide. I call it salvation.

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The End of an Era

Here he is, he saves a grin
He wants to be the one who doesn’t have to sink a level
Indiscrete, in his retreat
All he needs is just a taste of the bitter pride
He held in her name…

~*~

Limits have their breaking pointss

And can fall in utter disrepair

What used to be bound with ropes

Now dangles by a precarious strand of hair

.

Mirrors have their cracking webs

And when they spread, it can shatter

No matter how hard you try to fix it

It’s won’t show the same reflection ever

.

Bodies have their wounds and sickness

And we’ll always try to slowly heal

But someday no medicine could cure

And we will then be rapidly killed

.

Words have an end to their capacity

Someday you might run out of meaning

We talk and take things for granted

And in the end are left silently staring

.

People have their gentle push

But sometimes it comes to a shove

And no amount of closing apologies

Can ever return the former love.

~*~

He’s in love with an isolation from emotion
Here he is awaiting sentence
A fool to think that anyone can escape guilt and anguish
A subtlety that can’t be learned, a subtlety that can’t be taught
He is caught in the lure of second thoughts
He might still care, as he settles down well aware…

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Cause Of Death

Have you ever had enough of it?
Straight over it, sick of it, can’t get a hold of it?
Like a drug I need another fix
I’m a moth to a flame and I’ll burn for the hell of it
Battle scar ’cause I lost the fight
Every time I take a breath it’s like I’m losing my life
Fuck it, why am I so dysfunctional?
So irrational? I don’t know what to do…

~*~

The medicine you said you only injected under pressure

Crashing the fluids in your spine, worse than acupuncture

Don’t expect me to stay for another panache dosage round

I’ll down another shot of NyQuil to sleep safe and sound

.

Madness is the disease you declared was the supreme cure

Sane is just an inadequate substitute for the epiphanies pure

But if that’s the case, then why did you have to lock me up

In the asylum you once revered, and my system left to rot?

.

Will they forget the failed experiment that is my botched heart?

When your scientific curiosity deigned for its imminent restart

But the shocking electric currents seemed to pass the wrong way

Now my body’s shaking uncontrollably, and you pushed me away

.

But despite playing the doctor, you killed more than you healed

With each accident you’ve revived, more saline fluid was spilled

It’s okay, I know my nameless wounds would bleed out like death

And I’ll let you mark it in the coroner’s report, outline by the bullet

.

You conducted my autopsy, hoping to find and satisfy the missing answer

I would’ve told you myself, darling, if only you had asked me a little nicer

But when you finally satiate your desire to create and mitigate destruction

I’ll be there standing at the wreckage, all primed to pull the loaded weapon.

~*~

So I push you away until you beg me to stay
Just for the thrill of the chase, you got me intoxicated
Fucked in the head from all the things that we did
But I will never forget I need you, my medication…

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Chasing Zebras, Circling the Drain

When I sew you up, don’t let me—stop bleeding!
Tiny stitches that you placed into my skin
Won’t let me go (oh no, oh no!)
And they’re ruining the mood
So I’ll toast every beat of my heart like a miracle…

~*~

I’m just a madman in a gurney

You’re just a liar with a rope

These palpitations don’t concern me

If you cry now, you won’t cope

.

And the nurses are dancing wrong

For the lesions that marked your skin

And the doctors are singing along

Burning like injections and liquid sin

.

Intubate me, I can’t breathe alone

The lozenge you prescribed lodged in my throat

These syndromes are but mere anomalies

But I’m a curious mystery, solve my cataplexy

.

Diagnose me again and over again

Abscesses in my heart, lymphoma in my brain

Give me some lorazepam or another placebo

Is there a hospital gown I can borrow?

.

A convulsion and a single stroke

Say the words and I’ll say that I’m sick

And the experimental apparatus didn’t work

As the vaccines failed the antibiotics

.

Immunocompromise me, make me weak

In a pathological war of an epidemic

I’m in remission, you gave pulmonary edema

I can’t speak now, I’m down with aphasia

.

Another dose of Vicodin to cover

The pain feeling like electric shocks

Your chest heaves under the defibrillator

Your oxygen tank ticks like the clock

.

Count the beats on the monitor

I won’t close my eyes if you listen slow

My blood is clotting from pressure

But don’t worry dear, you won’t see me go

.

I’ll perfuse the circuit, keep you alive

I’ll call a crash cart to make sure you died

Teach you how to use a morphine drip

And sedate you from Occam razor’s sharper slip

.

Accidents happen, they occur the worst

Trust me, this is just a blessed curse

Your heart is removed, your skin feels cold

Just don’t end up crying in the morgue

.

Don’t seize now, don’t crash in a hurry

Hold on, I’m trying to save the date

You went into tachycardia at the sight of me

Your scheduled surgery is running late

.

So call off the operation, call off the operation

If your valium teeth are still smiling

Call off the operation, the operation again

If the IV drips blood, we win, we win, and I win

.

‘Cause I’m just a patient dying in sepsis and crazy

You’re just another white-coat liar with a stethoscope

And all the tools and scalpels are already rusted over

But doctor, is it still too much to ask for some hope?

~*~

And I don’t think you’ll ever want to love me
You’d better listen to your doctor
Doctors lie (lie!), lie (lie!), lie
If the dollar is right, oh, my sweet little girl
Hold your mouth and you’ll be all right!

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Misdiagnosis

Stop targeting

My central nervous

System, you’re

Tearing apart my gut

I need a dose

Of your own medicine

An injection, stat

You’re the raged disease

That’s infecting me

Terminally, I’m quite sure

But is it harmless

To assume that you’ll also

Be the only cure?

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I don’t care…

I’m so fucking sick

And you’re contagious

Just how perfect can we both be?

But another patient

Has already cured you

Shit, why couldn’t it have been me?

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Blue Illusion

this friday night

i threw out control and

i drank myself away

until my lips were as blue

as the alcohol i craved

cerulean illusions

faded like fireworks

dancing past my hazy eyes

as i exhaled out slurs

and my breaths collided

with the dim sodium lights

though it isn’t enough

to get me inebriated

and drunk on the colours

but i sure felt hitched

to a temporary heaven

and i sure as hell ain’t sober

razor blades didn’t cut it

so here’s another cure

i’ll prescribe to keep me sane

and i hope these smiling

little breath mints will

help me hide the reek of pain.

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Filed under Poetry