Tag Archives: desperation

The Diary Of Jane; or Three Excerpts

i.) him; or the rest of the infinite lie

Try to find out what makes you tick
As I lie down, sore and sick
Do you like that, do you like that?
There’s a fine line between love and hate
And I don’t mind, just let me say
That I like that, I like that…

revenge is colder than the dark ocean

that you carelessly left me to drown in

fill the chasm with the rest of my blood

and take warmth in my spiteless jealousy

as you want to make me bow down to you

but i’m carried away by your fading current

the horizon bends but never breaks the weight

is there another way to hold on to the sky again?

~*~

ii.) her; or the story no one wanted to tell

Desperate, I will crawl
Waiting for so long
No love, there is no love
Die for anyone
What have I become?

she’s sore and sick from all the fine red lines

her penned diaries have been burned to ashes

and no one tells her how it should be—or why

desperation ascending from her spine and body

“why don’t you die?” the windows were fogged

when she took her own life in that late autumn night

but no one wanted to cry tears for a corpse in a closet

so they buried her the best they could to keep her quiet…

~*~

iii.) them; or the guilt that burned a house

Something’s getting in the way
Something’s just about to break
I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane
As I burn another page, as I look the other way
I still try to find my place in the diary of Jane
So tell me how it should be…

the front porch is swollen with pink lightning bugs

the coffee’s cold, but i stopped drinking it long ago

i don’t want morning light to catch up with my sins

i have things in my head that they cannot ever know

so i write a final letter to dear agony, forget to sign it

but it’s never enough to keep my head from screaming

the gunshots should have disturbed their sleeping sister

but she’s not here anymore. i’m sorry. let’s just get this over

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Losing Oxygen

Every famous blunt excuse

That left scuffs on the soles of your shoes

A three-dimensional dementia

Escaping with a bloodied insignia

The air feels solid; just another futile reach

Of what is unhinged and rusted away

Nuanced flares, serendipitous glimpses

Desperation worth what you needed to say

Push and pull at the faulty gravity

As the swelling throats, unable to scream,

Still sing until dehydration and reverie

Now transcending into an angel’s bad dream.

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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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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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lights, camera, action!

i am a candid facade—

i am no longer the crashing wreck

portrayed in movies and books

bleeding out question marks and

bad decisions to the open ocean

.

i am the jaunt in your sunday steps

and the gaily tip of your hats

and a million dollar movie star

with the confident mouth and purple hair

.

i am a candid facade—

i am not me. i am not me. i am not…

i am dissociated from all my

failures and collapses, from my

depression and desperation,

.

from me, from myself, from i;

i am not me. i am not me. i am not…

.

until i am not becomes i am me.

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Of Despair and Last Resorts

So on to the ocean and into the sea
So balanced and calm now, that’s where I will be
So on to the ocean and into the sea
Wash away all my problems, wash away memories
Back then, always through the shattered glass
I stared at my life, and oh, I wished I would die…

~*~

Desperation, desperation, desperation.

A mother so desperate to pay back the unwanted debts she’s accumulated under a harrowing time pressure of “sooner than later”, that she’s tearfully begging her long-deceased husband’s portrait for help and verbally contemplating suicide in front of her children, splashed with witty acerbic remarks to conceal her true intentions.

“If I don’t go home tomorrow, just watch the news and you know what you’ll see.”

A woman so desperate to make amends with her best friend that she personally owes, not just money, but also so much of herself for, and attempting to save face from any further unnecessary embarrassment, that she takes out her unbridled anger on everyone else, including her family, herself, and even her very own infant son.

“You’re all fucking useless. Why don’t you just die if you can’t do anything to help?”

A person desperate for redemption, desperate for change, so fucking desperate to take away any further troubles and problems that they might cause to their family; so much so that they’re prepared to do anything to achieve such a goal, even if it means abandoning their education and their future ambitions just to find an easier route to support them. Or perhaps—a darker and easier solution that’s earnestly contemplated—just to completely remove themselves out of the equation.

“There’s less money to be spent and wasted if I’m not here, right?”

Desperation, it clings to the bruised necks of the needless like curved brier thorns, entangling itself inside fragile throats and lodging itself deeper and deeper with the softest cough, choking the sparest breath out of hope until all that’s left is a heartless fear—a fear of everything and nothing all at once, a fear for everyone else and yourself, a fear of the future, the present, and the past—until all that’s left is irrationality and logical foolishness; until all that’s left is reckless death wish.

Yet, even then, desperation still feeds ravenously. And it never starves.

~*~

Take a deep breath now
Pass the shallows

Stay steady and hold on
Through the darkness we all know…

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A Melancholy Walk Down The District

Where do I go to find myself in this downtown dream?

Skyscrapers high-rise, everything is more than it seems

A mile in a million, caught in viscid lacklustre emotions

Upon seeing impressionable lights under glacial decisions

.

Horizon pale grey, though the night grows dark and deeper

Tuscan stars and effervescent skylines that glimmer and glower

Timeless destinations, that appeal for gloomy eyes to forget

But the macabre thoughts disturb again like a brimstone parapet

.

Where do I go to lose myself in this downtown desecration?

Skyscrapers down-low, shallow lipstick and coat-check desperation

A mile in a minute, caught in viscous webs of endless nowhere

That no fading light can ever permeate, only vague deliria is left spare.

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long nights

Oh, how its raining
Oh, how the water falls
Into the safe things
We tried to set in stone
I can’t replace you
I can’t escape you now…

~*~

it’s gonna be a long night

without your stars to count

this time i wonder if the planet

breathes without a pause of doubt

i wish the ocean was as blue

as your feather words and halo eyes

i close away my mind just to think

there’s no sugar without a hint of spice

but under the bed where flowers bloom

the sour notes never leave your arms

and the nightlight illuminates my dreams

where loving you does me no harm

but i lie to myself as i lie awake

wondering if giving up control was my mistake

ivory piano and sheep lulling desperation

as i await the end of an endless oblivion

i can only wish i didn’t feel this much

as i lay down my thoughts without a sound

and without your skin to be my respite

i know it’s gonna be another long night.

~*~

But I remember the nights when you’d lie with me
Where we’d talk and we’d touch and we’d fall asleep
I wake up in your arms and I’d feel at ease
But now its just me and I lie awake
And I toss and I turn and I see your face
When I wake from a dream it won’t go away…

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despair

i might know

a thing or two

about bad sides

and semantics

but your volatile

desperation and

petty attachment

reeks of pathetic.

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Inconceivable

What haven’t I done? What have I done?
What haven’t I done to deserve a cold war
On all sides? It’s so bleak all the time
“Stay with me. You’re alone in the center of hell. Just be.”
The longest winter I have ever seen
From hospital to hospital, repeat…

~*~

Her eyes won’t open up anymore

As the flower in her womb began to wilt tonight

Petals sifting into her nervous system

And she looks so good in bandaged white

.

Won’t you stay with me, please?!

The traffic lights won’t amount to the hell

That I’m driving myself straight into

Hoping to find her broken body at the end of the well

.

For a while, she was beginning to blossom

Delicate heliotrope blots dotting her pallid cheeks

But the intruding scarlet painted her open lips

She looks so beautiful, please let this be a trick…

.

Hold on, please hold on, I’ll be there with you

If only you’d take a breath if I held mine as long as I do

I could kill god for all the wrongs I’ve committed

But that doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you

.

Her pulsating shallow beat is slowly going thud thud thud

Like my fist on the hospital doors, I arrived in time for the flatline

As the thorns rage around her heart, the flower begins to decay

If she loses, then I’ve lost, I wouldn’t have it any other way

.

I can’t…I can’t believe this…why did you—why did you leave me?

My foot won’t ease on the pedal, and the carbon monoxide is choking

‘Cause there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, and I can see her face

Calling out to me, the headlights blind me as I fall into her embrace…

.

C R A S H.

~*~

First I need to save the life of god
So that god can come and save me from myself
If I have to walk alone I’m giving up
I can’t stay here knowing love is not enough…

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