Tag Archives: desire

sweet candy (clap and kneel)

get a syrupy dose

i’ll have you clapping

candy that lasts all night

sweet but not too saccharine

lust like a parched rose

desire is just another word

until my lush lips utter it

i’ll have you screaming “what a world”

a messy and clarion intimacy

let’s murder the lights if we must

my sovereign eyes will set you free

in cavorting pure we trust

but no, don’t be fooled

by my colourful lollipop taste

i’m far from innocent, my darling

and i’ll let you go to waste

and when you’re finished taking it all in

my sweet taste will slowly fade

and leave an acrid palate that will last for days

even when i’m gone, you’ll taste staid.

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Baby, You’re Dead to Me

Hip hip hooray for me, you talk to me
But would you kill me in my sleep?
Lay still like the dead from the razor to the rosary
We could lose ourselves and paint these walls in pitchfork red…

~*~

My heart is fucking crippled

And you stole my crutches

Leaving me to limp my way

Back into the house you burned

.

My soul is fucking injected

With a dose of my own medicine

Leaving me defying a lost god

As hell waits patiently for my turn

.

My body is fucking corrupted

It must be all the nails I devoured

Leaving my blood to wither

As your vampire kiss claims earn

.

My mind is fucking profane with butane

And your words intensified the taste

Leaving me revoltingly desiring for more

As you scattered the ashes in my urn.

~*~

I will avenge my ghost with every breath I take
I’m coming back from the dead
And I’ll take you home with me
I’m taking back the life you stole…

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Severing Heartstrings

I’m a ghost in your eyes
A shadow you can’t seem to recognise
I have a thought of you for every, star in the sky
But I’m scared, I’ll never cross your mind…

~*~

Lusted contrivances hold a harangued heart

The chaos of the slow moment is lost in the depart

Further regressing, counting ocean shore waves

Falling into the demesnes of a shadow I can’t save

Where the houses are burned to build a bonfire

And the dissemination is nothing but a pipe desire

What can be wrong with the things one can’t expect?

And what does this heedless vitriol bring to that next?

The sharpest tools have rusted away into desperation

Until one can no longer cut away those strings of infection

Finding museum peace over the turnstiles of amusement

This heart may be heavy but the weight can circumvent.

~*~

Will our stars ever align?
Will two hearts, beat in time?
These words you should always remember
To you, my heart I surrender…

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Jealous Butterflies and Ochre Moth Wings

We’re just two jealous souls breaking envy against the tidal waves, bleeding out elaborate cesspools fervently, and leaving soundless mouths agape for the stained porcelain butterflies to enter, hoping that the fragile incipient creatures would exit our perfidious throats undaunted and provide our dilapidated larynx with an ameliorated song to sing. Yet we only manage to choke on their flimsy polychrome wings and cough them out unceremoniously before we suffocate, the meek and hapless butterflies bent in twisted angles, traces of leaden dust leaving residues of faithful solemnity in our tinted lips, tongues whispering the painful words that no sane mentality dares to hear, destroying the only scant chances for our treasonable prayers to receive heaven.

Then, after all the nascent vituperation that ensconces our quiet bones like an impaired skylight, where would we be? Plucking burnt tawny moth wings out of wilted candle wicks in the destitute hopes that they shall acquiesce the same way those quaint looking glass butterflies did, yet never realising that there is no fraudulence nor varied substitute for that abstract tessellation, that modicum of infinity, that metamorphosed dimension that those nebulous lepidopterons accumulate and exhale. Recovery cannot be replaced, and a replacement cannot be recovered. Amid the failing maiden glow and taffy-stretched daydreams, there is only maligned reverie by maimed lightweights, attempting to endow the subtler nuances of this life a vaguer and more coruscant definition.

Against the jade-eyed desires that we fought ever so vigilantly with inured devastation and bargained discrepancies, against the covetous recidivism and the elaborate secondhand lies that come tucked along within it like opening a painted russian nesting doll, against the prehensile avarice ascending above everything and drowning us in its remorseless cyclone, our jealous souls stand resolutely falling apart. There are no more iridescent enamel butterflies to count prismatic wishes on, no more ashen moth wings to cling onto fragments of faith for, no more candid humility and hackneyed selflessness and altruistic implications, only an imminent invidia and bilateral resentment. Reality ensues, and chaos along with it. Where will our lost nightmares dream now?

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Three Wishes

Mortal wishes, the hearty desire

I wish all these doors are on fire

Spinning skull yet in moratorium

Long lines thought an auditorium

.

Mortal wishes, the greed not to die

I wish the scissors would never lie

Vertigo angle yet standing straight

Out of the theatre, over all the wait

.

Mortal wishes, of the soul sacrifice

I wish I could wish more than thrice

Djinn can be cruel, trapped in a bottle

You grant them now, you lost this battle.

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Of Detestable Desires and Despicable Devotions

This isn’t fair, no
Don’t you try to blame this on me
My love for you is bulletproof
But you’re the one who shot me…

~*~

I don’t understand any of this.

All this opposite similarity, juxtaposed like faded victorian photos in a chromolithograph pendant, an elegant display of memory destruction. Your perfect contradictions. Your earnest sarcasm. Your subtle noticeability. Your intellectual nonsense. How I fell down towards the sky for you. It’s so confusing.

You’re so confusing.

You were the aspirating medicine that poisoned me into debilitation. You were the rusty nail that pierced my discoloured skin and cured my tetanus. You were the hypodermic injection of the drug that made me so high I began to hit the ground.

You were the disease that saved my life.

You were the shadows that kept me comforted as you beckoned the monsters on. You were the darkness that provided me with light at the end of the hopeless tunnel. You were the lingering dawn that never allows me to catch the faintest glimpse of sunrise.

You were black and white, respectively.

You played the professional doctor while you tore experiments down my wrists and carved notches in my backbones. You stitched my wounds shut as you proceeded to open fresh ones. You were my ravelled bandages, and you left me to bleed out.

You were the death cure that nearly killed me.

I was invincibly bulletproof until you shot me with a guillotine. You were a modern day Midas and you turned my stone heart to gold, but you stubbornly refused to touch your own coalfield chest. You were the concentrated oxygen that asphyxiated me as I inhaled your fumes to breathe suffocation.

You were the safest dangerous thrill.

You were fire, burning empires in angry hate and providing towns incandescence in softest hope. You were water, drowning cold lungs and circulating warm blood. You were earth, burying emaciated corpses underneath with moonlight requiems as efflorescent verdancy pushes upwards to greet the ode of the sun.

You were an element that can build and destroy at the same time.

You were the ministerial soldier in a war who offered me the white flag and bayoneted me in the head as I reached for it. You were the scholarly literature that emptied my mind of all knowledge. You were the coronary-inducing suspense that never left me hanging resolutely.

You were the worst kind of poetry.

You were so singularly ironic that you could cure anaemia. I wanted to explore and extricate your simple complexities, so I can finally solve it and leave your unending mystery alone. You were killing me ever so slowly, making me crave for eternal sleep, so that when I die, I can awake to life.

You were the gravity that made me float, and I can’t pull away.

You were never a singular personality. You were murderer who cries over his victims, a mad scientist reviving the patients she killed, a lunatic lover looking for some sanity in the moon. You were a compassionate sociopath, a sinful saint, a lying candour, an innocent hatred. You were a grotesque beauty, you were eternally ephemeral, you were a cruel god.

You were an impossibility.

Most of all, you were hopelessly incomprehensible. I could research the entire world, ascend above human rationale, learn relentlessly for a thousand years, and yet I can still never begin to comprehend the very thought of you. And you are clever, yes, elegantly clever and yet so barbarously sadistic, my love. You knew I wouldn’t ever understand, I was just like the rest of them, so you walked away from me without a second thought and left me. You left me hurting emotionally and physically, you left me for good, and you left me for dead.

You are despicable beyond measure, and I can never leave you.

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The Children of the Endless

Shall Fate be surpassed by Time’s willing hand

And thus Destiny be overtaken?

The Universe fails so to understand

Human lives are Awakened, Forsaken

Pain implores high, His Desire overwhelms

Desperation arises from within

While Ecstasy is at Morpheus’s helm

Feeding minds false Indulgence and sweet Sin

Thus Delirium gives way to Destruction

And from Decimation, Death does trouble

A clang of the bells shows Dessication

Decay and Parasite feed on the souls

Children of the Endless, forces of Hate

Fathered by Darkness, your Eternal Fate.

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