Tag Archives: death

INHERENT

There’s too much congestion and a lack of invention
Material eyes requiring constant attention
It’s the mystery lost in a web, in the well
As the spider awakes and decides what to sell…

~*~

Implicit implications, engraved warnings writ on sewn eyelids

Next to “never forget about them” and “fuck your pleasant tidings”

Hiding every heretic’s anthem, holding the threats above our heads

Elucidate all the progenies, surrender sickness without health

Radical remembrance, wrought past ranks of liberated contrabands

Expect the imminent expiration of another revolutionary dissonance

Neorealism strikes the uncertain death of sensationalistic inhibition

Through temporal hostility, arises the final response of failed anthropocentrism.

~*~

No handle on what comes next
Anti-passion makes an empty old din
Because a fearful eye’s pulling strings for thee
Watch on, round and round and
Round it goes, human nature!

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Fall From Grace

pure disgust is felt

on the frayed ribbons

around your chest

you call your sanctity

.

as if it’s quite derivative

of a decried angel’s cut—

the pierrot’s sole pathway

to your own humanity

.

but it’s just vapour;

smoke and hallucinogens

lies dribbling from the

sludge of your brain,

.

crawling away in a

toxic kind of temporal

streak, an indictment

of classic chloride pain

.

oh, she’s malevolent

such brutality must be

a sanitarium propaganda,

just covered in someone

.

else’s later stages of rapid

cryptic dementia—pardon me,

but you’re still a stagnant

priestess…aren’t you?

.

we have ancient shrines built

over your grave, and waxen

wings, and the fruit that bore

no harm; as if that fake religion

.

is easily digestible—but our

disgust will constrict, just as

yours ties the final knot on the

noose wrapped around your jaw—

.

this is not your vestal sanctuary.

we are not your godless paradise.

autonomy is simply the crowning eden

you shall soon gamble away to lose.

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Echopraxia

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I am not as truthful with my words

As I am with the mirror of another person

Irritating, a mimicked eloquence in my every verve

A quiet death in between the lines of reason

.

Yet I yearn to be autobiographical

To move the hills with my own sorrow

Bleed ocean waves with the sound of my voice

Crashing, cresting—swollen abyss

.

No one will touch it with a paperweight

My skin itches with healed sores, my mouth

Itches with the desire to be heard,

My mind is severed from my body; regret, culminating

.

They hear my suffering but not my thumping heart

I think it to be nonexistent—am I the truth?

No one notices me. No one comes near. No one

Prays for the crying shadow in the corner of the room.

.

So I atone with my own subtle mess. The ink stains

They praise me for my joy—my lack of it, my lack

Of self-respect, my lack of nerves within the soul—as soon as

This chapter closes, my lies become no more than another neglected tale.

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Myiasis

PicsArt_03-19-07.47.38

she pushes the blowflies—

in her mouth—at the very

back of her throat, when

she tells me she loves me

.

like a corpse of flowers on

the table centerpiece, she

drags a painted hand across

her plate to keep the maggots

away from her meal—futilely

as she is dining with their king

.

and my missing fork is lodged

between her sternum, just above

her left lung, yet she still thusly

refuses to return it to me for

the rest of the evening. all before

.

a farewell kiss; that tastes of

burnt steak and congealed blood—

i don’t know if she means it, but

all i have is bitter saltiness in

my hypoxic lips, pulled up into a

tight puppet smile, mimicked by

.

her scarlet ones. she turns and

imperceptibly coughs—once, an

escaped wing fluttering—and caresses

silver in my veins to mark her goodbye.

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Eludine

Our shelters are all living things
I feel the mortar tremble
Pressure cracks like spider webs
With you at the center reeling me in…

~*~

Tremble, tremble

Minds at the crucible

Solely unforgiving

Now giving in to milder

Disciples, and again

.

Convictions falter

Against the beaks of a

Wake of starving vultures

Salvaged without prayer

Expendable, and again

~*~

The locks on this vault
I’ve pushed inside begin to rust
And if it breaks I’m spilling out
Like the needle thread
Through empty trust…

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A Spoonful of Stagnancy (The Fix)

I woke up sideways trying to find clarity at the edge of my bed

‘Cause I thought I would meet a liar, but I met you there instead

With the knife stuck in one eye and a strange leer in the other

Before I could start to understand, you held our heads underwater

.

And let contrition flood my nostrils, let your heartbeat send the tides

Where old treasure chests and pirate bones can only dream to hide

My veins phosphorescent, a sickly glow, the predators won’t let me go

Sand in your lips like a velvet bliss, send me beyond cyclones and snow

.

A traitor in my midst, our ribcages interlocked beyond befallen stars

Fine silver melts at the very whim of your ire, spin a mysterious nebular

For where the mind shall go and where you let it roam is an open road

And you dragged me by the skin and teeth, jammed inside the folds

.

Beyond lost libraries and cathedral halls and the closets of your home

Our somewhere that we both could share just to leave ourselves alone

When your iris takes on some colour and the rusty blade begins to recede

Far away from angels and enemies and god, farther away from you and me

.

As I woke up sideways trying to find an elegy at the edge of my unmade bed

I just wanted to meet another dying sinner, but you left me one instead

With the knife out of my spine and your bloodstain roschach on my shoulders

Before we could start to understand, we were ending before it was all over.

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Sixthborn of the Sixthborne

Rise from the grave

The spider threads around your neck

Hold you up for the night

They won’t notice that you’re a wreck

.

Feet dragged on the sand

The windy desert air so unforgiving

Carry the lambs to slaughter

With the heavy hearts you’re leading

.

But don’t let the bandages

Unravel from their sightless minds

They won’t like what they’ll see

And you don’t know what you’ll find

.

When you reach the beyond

The place where Death goes to die

And any life in the threshold

Is reduced to a disambiguated sigh

.

Dare you trespass the end?

Let the truth crush every passing breath?

Dare you be the willing Judas

For the ones whose salvations are spent?

.

So return from where you belong

Beneath the ancient dunes that hide no man

Whilst the souls you damned shriek

To sate your starvation, till next kingdom come.

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Winner, Winner, Quite The Sinner

I’ll take it all

I’ve got the wiles

Epoxy skin and

Devil-may-care style

.

That stalks the weak

Devours the young

The bones of old

Are left unsung

.

I’ll take it all

It takes a while

Cemented shoes and

A crook’s bladed smile

.

That draws the veins

Close to their end

And leaves the bones

Out for the mend.

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closer to closure

Consider this, consider this
The hint of the century
Consider this the slip
That brought me to my knees, failed
What if all these fantasies come
Flailing around, now I’ve said too much…

~*~

fucking upset.

why is that so?

is it thinking about

the deliberate act

of running steel beyond

your muscle enough

to hit bone, or is it

the happy thought that your

friends won’t give a

fuck about you anymore?

self-pitying act, you

find yourself repulsive

and reel back more as you

find yourself glorifying

the tasteless apathy

.

won’t be missed.

a face like wiped fog

on the windowpane

awkward jokes that never

hit humour quite right

undecoded personality

no one will want to

put up with anymore

won’t be missed?

tears might fall at a

funeral, but it will quickly

wash off, along with you

and the way you laugh

and your paper body

won’t. be. missed.

.

and still, no one.

but why do you even

pretend to be surprised?

the curiosity of their

imminent reactions

burns a giant hole

in your dysfunctional

brain and makes you

grimace, deceptive smile

a burning impulse to

get it over with and find out

are you fucking upset

that you know no one will

give a fuck, or because

you already saw it coming?

~*~

That’s me in the corner
That’s me in the spotlight
Losing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don’t know if I can do it
Oh no, I’ve said too much
I haven’t said enough…

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defence mechanism

“be forewarned”

your whispered chagrin

stains my mouth

with perplexed nicotine

.

a spiteful stare

the gaps in my rationality

stolen spare parts

i’m rendered in cataplexy

.

graze my nape

our vascular constriction

but it turned out

to be just a bold distinction

.

to find the switch

and fumble with our sorrows

i’m a clockwork elegy

but i’ll still be here tomorrow.

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