Tag Archives: death

Ex Nihilo

Oh, but don’t you see? We’re made to destroy

Shooting arrows onto the pockmarked ceiling

Until it loses its shaky grip, and begins falling

Finding another home in the chasm of our skin

.

Creating the chaos that even god won’t decimate

The first sin and final revelation, we will recreate

Holding back the maelstrom, a cataclysm presents

With every pain and agony, the loathing we resent

.

Chasing back the darkness, like starved animals we breathe

Savages tearing apart throats to shreds to get what we’ll need

Bleeding, bruised, medicine refused, suffering keeps us awake

Or we will never stay alive under the weight of all our mistakes

.

Running away from reality, breaking in nothing as we stalled

Tortured eyes seek wandering lies, and scratching at the walls

They make signs and burn our names in the wake of destruction

That we caused with our dying hands, genocide of the generation

.

Can I just have one more, one more…can I just have one more taste?

I won’t make it, won’t make it—I won’t make it through another day

Pleading and obliterating, until all that’s left is you and I alone to die

We’re made to destroy this decomposing world of devastation tonight.

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see no evil, fear no evil

i counted seventeen vultures

circling above to rend my spoiled flesh apart

and feed me to their starving children

.

i thought i saw a raven

mocking my unfortunate fate

perched solemnly on a chiseled granite bust

weeping with plutonian pondering

.

as the foolish crows

sang me a heartless elegy

the epistles crumbled to ashes in my palms

and my fountain pen dried out

into blotted shadows

.

if only heaven were to open up

and save me from the ominous darkness

but there’s no room for another soul

to save; no vacancy to give

.

so i huddle beneath the branches

of the dying willow tree

and waited for them to take me alive.

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slipping back

please don’t make me do it

i only wish to remain untainted

until the end of the year

my scars still hurt from time to time

and i know i could never wash them away

with the strongest dose of sorry

.

please don’t make me do it

i’ve been scot-free for almost a month

i want badly to believe i can make it through

but i close my eyes and see flashes

of a gleam and spurting blood

painting my bedroom walls with delirious laughter

.

please don’t make me do it

i promised them my life that i wouldn’t

but it’s so difficult to grasp onto fragile straws

and it’s so easy to lie about these malignant stains

splotching my pleading skin with colours

chromaticity of the worst kind

.

please don’t make me do it

the voices are starting anarchy in my head

and it’s giving me a painful headache

i don’t know which one will drive me insane first

and i don’t want to go back anymore

but i’m so tempted to give in—it’s all so easy

make it stop. make it stop. make it stop…

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fever dreams

i hope that there

are times when

the silent hitch

does not break

to vernal death

.

where ultimatums

and eidetic dreams

are not distractions

from your idle ides’

varicoloured aching

.

let the fragrance of

cherry blossoms lull

us into oblique sleep

falling into aesthetic

advents of febricula

.

as i lose to twilight

fend off paltry beats

of my delicate pulse

and lay me down in

melancholy pastures.

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The Game Played Right

I keep on lying. The silent pieces remain unapologetically in my lips, melting and melding together and apart, clashing like shades of blue and gold, until my smiles are mutated and my bated tongue is in shreds. Fear is an embrace I’ve learned to take upon myself, selling myself short to it, buying away the final remaining original thoughts I’ve slaved over in myriad sleepless nights until I’m a-la carte. Change is to blame for the causeless effect, and I’m asking for more from what can’t be taken away from me, cutting corners and targeting the contrition with a bolted gun, as if that would solve my problem. Would that open the deadlocked box of hope, containing those transient reminiscences of what used to be faith, keeping my wrists from giving itself up to bladed handcuffs and abrading ropes?

No, because it’s been open all this time. I’m merely pretending that it’s fully out of grasp, stuffing the sunshine in a pocket with a hole, then feigning remorseful surprise when I grasp the cloth and fail to feel its reassuring outline. I won’t get away, just as the moon can’t break away from its cruel mistress, no matter how hard it tries. Dependence requires sustenance, never mind if one’s getting hurt, never mind if one’s just wasting time and lightyears, never mind that there’s someone who sucks on the cigarette and there’s one who gets snuffed out in the ashes of its former companions, and both are slowly dying with each harmful, addicting, nicotine drag. Perhaps it’s better to move on, burn my house down with the lighter, and stab a flag on top of a desolate mountain, letting the frigid Arctic breeze pierce my lungs, reminding me that I’m dead inside, day by day, every single night.

Yes, the truth hurts worst when you’re lying on your back in a hollowly-carved bed, watching the tick of the sagging clock draw frowns on your dripping beige ceiling, the crude notches on the bedpost your only substitute for a calendar, not even the gathering dust on your windowsill keeping track of your blunt existence, but is that really such a bad plotline to read into? After all, I’m a mere instrument of conflict, and if I do not fulfill my function, I have no point, and dull instruments are of no use to anyone but the junkyard. So, what’s the point but pointlessness? What is there to release from arrogance, from selfishness, from egocentric human needs and desires, shallowness sucking away the will to speak in freedom, constantly starving for lust and lusting for starvation and dying from either loneliness or hunger in the end?

Give me that. Give me an answer that would morph my vulgar counterfeit laughter back into a purely genuine jubilance, give me a reply that would wash away the contracting fallacies in my conflicted mind and make my craving lecherous soul finally taste the decadent truth, give me a statement to swim in and sink under as I ponder deeply upon it and spend all my cashed-in stars to figure it out until I may finally repose in peace, give me an oratorical rhetoric that would drag me out of the hands of the angels in the ambulance and shock my heart into sinus rhythm, give me something, anything at all that would set this hellish perpetual carousel in a dead jolting halt and wouldn’t throw me off the cutthroat ride, give me—give me what I want. Yet, is what I want really what I need?

Never. Because in this reality, the parallel cruelty prevents any chance of a perfect alignment or even a destined intersection between any limits, and it’s all we can do to keep walking in the thin line and keep a painful positiveness, because backtracking to the negatives would devour us whole, render us irrational, and count us as impossible. Yet, despite knowing all of those and sharing such meaningless contrivances to the eyes that refuse to perceive and the ears that refuse to listen, I still want you to lie to me. Lie to me until your lips are mutated and your bated tongue is in shreds, lie, lie, lie, until the wrong turns right, until forward becomes backwards, until the truth is the ultimate lie, and I’ll gladly do the same to you. After all, we’re just doing what we need to do. We’re just doing all we can do.

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eye. see. you.

and your eyes

are toxic

i close my own

and see

glimpses of that

wary glint

digging daggers in

my sockets

hurting me badly

the longer

i stare, the longer

you glare

shade of the pupils

snap fibres

blinding me again—

and i miss it…

i miss dying in your

violent gaze.

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Small Talk

“If I die now, you’ll be fine, wouldn’t you?” Came the morbid question, startlingly from out of nowhere, the tone rather earnest and solemn, as the rest of her contradictory body moved to pack up her bright clothes and stunning makeup in preparation for the party she was going to attend in that very evening; a glamorous night out in the city hotel for endless hours of revelry and colourful strobe lights and dancing with her inebriated friends.

“Not if I die first.” Was the equally-morbid devil-may-care reply, swift and acerbic, passed off in a jovial manner, accompanied by an amused grin and a playful hand slap, as he continued to stare jadedly at the glaring screen of his computer, thinking about the bottles of whiskey and cola that he secretly stashed away at the very back of the fridge, to be consumed later on at midnight in his bedroom with some crisps; a little party of his own.

They both smiled at each other quietly and let the conversation slide, and they went about with their business. They knew neither one was joking. And they knew they couldn’t do anything about it. So they just pretended to laugh.

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california soul

stay young

and keep your hands on the gun

don’t move along

and stay for the night

for the dark night that bleeds

in drunken colours

away from everything else

in the picasso paintings we called home

before we calmed down

and stopped severing our songs

so break me down

break down the better parts

that make us scream in the backseat

of crashing red cars

and i won’t run this time

so run me over

i’ll tally up the torques

torture me with tiring promenades

and hand grenades

and alcoholic stories that leave my cheeks numb

and when i pass the fuck out

carry me to my door

like you never promised me before

and i’ll leave you to stare

at the closed windows

throwing brick walls to play fair

just don’t bother with praying

don’t bother me

if the burning sun persists to remind you

don’t listen to the rain

listen to the suffocating hallways

give me what you can take

and if you still think you’ll be sorry

darling, your voice is keeping me awake

so what if i forget regret?

by then i wrote all these apologies

a thousand fucking times now

until i could taste the wounds on my tongue

until my hands are dragged into the ocean

until i don’t know what it means to be alive

what does it mean to breathe?

you lacerated my lungs

and monopolised my oxygen

so i guess i asked the wrong person

and i would do it again

until you love every broken bone in my body

but do you even give a fuck

that it’s cold outside

and all my mutated veins are frozen over

into dismembered accidents

of a lifeless smile?

don’t keep haunting me, darling

texas may be forever but california isn’t

and we could only wish to swim

against inferno summers and dishwater hurricanes

parched throats like a pyromaniac

before we crash on the rocks

and end up losing our bedrooms in the sky

did you fall away?

heaven is yours to plot my demise

when we’re stumbling over west coast clubs

and deadlocked in socal lies

i make the best mistakes to choose

when you’re wearing my lipstick and i’m in your shoes

crying until the lemon groves grow

and turn our memories of encino holidays sour

desecrating sacrilegious in santa cruz

saint anna has nothing left to lose

and los angeles is chanting ooh, la la la

the walk of fame is tipsy

the stars don’t remember their fame

hollywood is getting far too busy

and we’re covered in blood in san francisco

standing by the earthquake’s fault line

trying desperately to find out

which of us pushed the other one

but i’ll remember all the disasters forever

like how we convulsed with laughter

dissecting, exploring our decaying anatomies

relapsing into recovery

dancing circles around the hospital

and never even asking what’s happening to us

as we’re dragged under hispanic dust

dizzying in spin the bottles and betting hack money

ferris wheels and carousels and vomit

confusion reassuring with promises full of shit

the happiest place on earth feels sorry

disneyland’s just a ride away

watching movies at anaheim driveways

falling asleep at the rolling credits

diving into high tide currents of long beach

until one of us drowns deep

and we hid away in sulphur kisses

poignant in mission bay high

crushing red cups in san diego backyards

digging crowns and graves in clairemont for the day we die

so hold your mouth, we’ll be fine

i’ll tell you you’ll be okay, but i would be lying

for romance, for a chance

to entrance the devils pumping blood

for a nonexistent god

for you, for me, for loveless mercy

for love and everything that’s bad in this world

you whisper “baby, i’d kill for you”

oh honey, don’t you see? i’d fucking kill you

i’d count the sugar on your lips

i’d count the stars that collide all over your skin

i’d count all the chemicals that saturate me

when you count the sand on the shore like sweeter sins

soaking me in

breaking me down

until i’m wasted on your voice

until the wine tastes cheap

and until we’re entangled

like grey cobwebs and red tapes

and starving friends preaching eloquence

like our elusive selfish escapes

so please shatter your mirrored soul for me

and i’ll paint them over in stained glass

for the hollow cathedral

we’ll murder our lusted vows in

we both knew this moment would never last

cause i loved your shameless destruction

and that was a fucking mistake

i should’ve loved everything else in your dying eyes, darling

because that was all it would ever take.

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There’s Such a Word as Damnation, and I’ll be Your Role Model

Well you can hide a lot about yourself
But honey, what’re you gonna do?
And you can sleep in a coffin
But the past ain’t through with you
‘Cause we are all a bunch of liars
Tell me, baby, who do you wanna be?
And we are all about to sell it
‘Cause it’s tragic with a capital T…

~*~

We both promised, we both promised that we’ll be dead together

And watch the showering fireworks kill the sky at the end of November

We swallowed bullets in turn, hoping to spit them into diamonds

But we laughed too hard, spilled cheap champagne, choked on garrotes

.

We didn’t want, we didn’t want to hold hands all the way to suicide

We just wanted more than an automatic answering machine before we died

I disputed the grave, lights in nave, one more nightmare for you to save

But I walked away from the mausoleum doors, leaving all that I gave

.

So would you, so would you consider therapy even for a moment

For neurotics and martyrs and vagrants thinking they’re fucking heaven-sent

And dead Mary, quite contrary, I’ll be your lifeless little boy blue

Herding my sheep towards starved wolves, as if innocence was something new

.

And you’ll chant, and I chant, na na na now’s the time for all the killjoys

To wash the blood off their broken noses and scream until they break their voice

Collecting melancholy in notes of g and eyeliner verses of the apocalypse

Bruises and lipsticks melting together into a dangerous warpaint on their cheeks

.

One more time, one more time, let me listen to the prayers of the damned

I’m just another corpse decaying on the pew, preaching for predicament demand

And you’re the pastor that opened the stained chapel windows to let me in

We’re friends of hell, and I wish you well, thank you for welcoming all of my sins.

~*~

‘Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends
And we all get together when we bury our friends
It’s been eight bitter years since I’ve been seeing your face
And you’re walking away, and I will die in this place…

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Synthetic Love

I want to hurt you, I don’t deserve you
Unlace your body, I want total control
Like maggots from the host, you drain, I decompose
Swallow your faith, submit and fuck until we overdose…

~*~

And it’s the kind of love

That makes me slit my wrists

Just so I can prove to you

What you might dare to miss

And if the sunlight dares touch

Your skin, I’ll burn it all out

Darling, you’re simply too much

To satisfy my hunger and doubts

Anyone who speaks your name

Will find themselves maimed

And I’ll burn down all the towns

Of the bastards that left you to drown

Let me taste your writhing agony

Let me hear you scream for me

Let me chase for you with a gun

but I won’t ever hurt you, it’s all for fun

And I’ll slowly pluck off my fingers

To count the days we spent together

Whether you love me or you love me not

We’ll both still be stuck here forever

But it’s the kind of love that makes me

Bleed my heart and slit my wrists

Because I know the reality of you and I

Dear, it will never fucking exist.

~*~

We said this was “the last time” over and over again
(Blind eyes) The closer I get is the further I feel
(Hands tied) And I’m losing my grip on remembering what’s real
‘Cause our synthetic love is all that we know
My head is a mess, and it’s going to explode…

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