Tag Archives: exist

wake-up call

it’s 6 a.m.

i’m nursing

a three-day

migraine as

i clutch onto

my half-empty

coffee mug

afraid that i may

completely slip

out of sanity,

lest i keep hold;

on the messy

unfinished sketch

of the face i’ll

never get to

hold close to

mine, except for

these subtler

moments of

mourning—

when my

creased-up

forehead

lightly touches

against the

paper, beneath

the shaky table;

catatonically tired

from carrying

along the weight

of the world

that wasn’t mine

to ever exist in.

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Just Exist

N̵̖̻͙̓i̴̧̢͐̿͜g̷͚͙̜̓͝h̴͉͈͌t̸̟̱̾s̵̗̯͋ ̸̠͍̈́̕l̴̢̀͊i̸̛̖̳̰̾k̵̜͎̐e̷̡̦̯̔̈́ ̴̖̇̒̅t̵͎̙̞̑̄͘h̴̨̯͙̉̈́̇ě̴̢͇s̵̻̲͜͠ē̸͚,̸̛͚̜ ̵͓̞̳̇̇w̴̹͂̓̍h̶̨̪͂é̶͕͚̖̓̚r̷͇̖̉ͅe̴͈̋̌͋ ̴̨̛̳̇̾Ỉ̶̪̚͘ ̷̱̩̅͜f̴̖̾̂͆e̸͉̻͒ě̵̪̰͂͜ľ̵͖̟͖̋̏ ̸̬̽r̷̭͖̼̈́̋e̴͕̥̍a̵͈͂͆̅l̷͈̗̽̓͌.̶͓͉̽͋̀͜.̵̧̣͈͑͝.̷̻̟̏ͅ

For a moment, the catatonic world seemed like a transparent illusion to him; nothing but faceless ghosts and vague outlines of ruined buildings and veiled horizons that barely existed beyond the twilight skylines. Gossamer, that’s the pretty word for it. Everything was so exquisitely gossamer.

“Kyle…Kyle?”

From beside him, he could hear Dylan softly calling out his name, beckoning him out of his efflorescent daydream. But Kyle merely closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back and letting the warm sand slip and sift between his delicate fingers. Dylan knew better than to persist and disturb his reveries further, thankfully.

Everything seemed like miles away from Kyle; the aegan ocean, his bickering friends, the salty breeze in his lungs, all of it seemed to be gradually wandering away from him, in search of a better reality.

Tranquil tidal waves solemnly lapped against the coastline, cool and fragile, barely reaching his toes. From behind him, a warped laugh from Zach, an indignant cry of protest from Jordan, Dylan’s poor exasperated attempts at mollifying the situation—a polaroid snapshot of a fleeting argument, a fleeting memory, in a fleeting lifetime.

In a while, Kyle’s spine began to feel quite sore from sitting upright, so he shifted a bit further to shake off the discomfort and rest against Dylan’s shoulder.

But, in leaning back, he found in surprise that his friend seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

In fact, all of them had.

Kyle panicked as he flailed in an attempt to retain his balance, but it was all too late. He quickly toppled backwards and felt himself crashing fast onto…the ground?

Not this time, still.

There was nothing but empty air beneath him.

Kyle could do nothing but let the volatile wind carry him away, as the horizon tilted from his vision and blurred into a sfumatic landscape—of violent fugacious colours and relapsing imbricated patterns.

From beyond that psychedelic film reel, he swore he could faintly hear Zach’s echoing voice counting down, so dangerously close yet so far away from him. But…to what end?

Five, four, three, two, one…

Kyle finally landed on something with a soft thump. He wasn’t quite expecting a gentle landing, but he was really grateful for it.

For about five seconds.

Until he shifted his gaze to see a messy tangle of translucent plastic wires connected to his chest and snaking past his limbs, a thousand needles painfully embedded in his veins and all over his arms, and all of these damned things tapering off to poisonous IV lines and contraptions stretching far beyond the gurney’s reach.

Creeping panic descended on Kyle and quickly set in once more. His heart began to beat fast, faster, somehow even overtaking the metronomic beeps that were supposed to be in sync with it. The discordant sound raged and roared in his ears, but he couldn’t block it out. He couldn’t scream for help. He couldn’t do anything at all.

Rendered completely powerless, Kyle could only watch in silent horror as metal medicine men disguised with stained scrubs and face masks milled frantically around him, attempting to suppress his rapid tachycardia and to no avail. The anthropomorphic beings wielded sharp scalpels that drew scarlet lines across his flesh and reviving paddles that numbly jolted him, but seemed to be useless in the fight to keep his failing heart still functioning.

Right behind them, Zach stood morosely, shifting from one foot to the other unsurely as he overlooked the grotesque scene. He was wearing a tattered funeral suit and holding a wreath of shriveled black dahlias in one hand, his miserable stare full of pleading remorse.

“Stay with us now!”

That final scream wasn’t a strange android’s monotonous voice. It was familiar, pained—an aching, desperate plea. Whose voice was it?

Kyle, it seemed, didn’t have time to find out.

He felt the life drain out of him as his frail body went limp, his stuttering breaths became elusive, and his vision slowly faded out into darkness. A bored voice announced his time of death as if they were reading it off a newspaper obituary.

A droning flatline. A blinding white light. Another dreadful sensation of recklessly falling away…

“Kyle!”

He suddenly awoke to find himself floating in the middle of the ocean, frigid waves angrily cresting and swelling around him. He was still wearing his hospital gown, which was heavily soaked but did not weigh him down much, thankfully. His mouth also tasted rather salty from—was it from the ocean water or blood?

Kyle tried to take a deep breath, but his throat immediately constricted and he swallowed back a mouthful of the unknown liquid; lungs burning, coughs overtaking, still struggling to keep himself afloat despite the inevitable void that was pulling him in once again.

Or was it something else?

He felt a steady hand grasp him by the arm and carefully drag him out back onto the shore. Heaving and spluttering, Kyle weakly crawled away from the waters and peered up into the looming face of his saviour.

“Jordan, is that you?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” His companion simply replied. “Are you okay?”

“No, no I’m fucking not!” Kyle snapped in frustration, his eyes welling up with tears and blurring his vision. Looking up once more, Jordan’s face appeared less of a human being to him and more of an abstract portrait. Spiralling, he was still spiralling…

“I don’t know why I’m being put through this and which one of these memories is reality anymore and just—I don’t wanna live in a world like this!” Kyle continued to seethe as he punched the ground until his knuckles bruised, hoping that the pain would keep him from completely losing grasp again. “Are you even real? Are any of you?! Or is this just another fake fiction? And what about me? Am I also just make-believe? I don’t know and I can’t fucking trust my head anymore. What the hell is going on here?”

Jordan, however, appeared to be mostly unfazed by his furious diatribe. “To tell you the truth, we don’t know either.” He said with an indifferent shrug.

“I figured as much.” Kyle buried his head in his hands in sullen resignation, still shuddering from the hypothermic cold overtaking his skin. “But, I swear, just tell me one thing, please…” He pled, voice barely above a whisper.

“When will this end?”

“You can’t ask too many questions here. Likewise, we can’t reveal too much. Trust me when I say that in this situation, ignorance is bliss.” Jordan’s tone unexpectedly shifted from callous to pitying, which made Kyle’s stomach turn even more in sheer dread.

“I really wish I could help you, Kyle. But I can’t. I just can’t.”

“It’s okay. I guess I’ll just have to figure this one out myself.” Kyle murmured, smiling thinly in defeat. “You’ve done enough already.”

Jordan walked away without saying another word, his solemn shadows moving away from Kyle and stretching out into black labyrinths on the sand. Overhead, a seagull sluggishly flew past and squalled, almost mournfully. A bright ray of afternoon sunlight peeking through silver cumulous clouds shone on Kyle’s face and momentarily blinded him, and he blinked once more.

“Kyle…Kyle?”

When he opened his eyes again, he was back with his three closest friends, resting on a checkered picnic blanket by the shore, back in that transparent world with its faceless ghosts and vague outlines of ruined buildings and veiled horizons—catatonic, yet somehow comforting.

“Yeah?”

“You’ve been kinda quiet for a while now.” Dylan observed thoughtfully. “You alright there? What are you thinking about?”

Behind him, another warped laugh. Another indignant protest following it. Another spell of hellish deja vu, resentfully nostalgic yet drastically different. Dylan’s concerned gaze was piercing through his confused soul, searching for some answers, meaning to understand him. But there was nothing left to be understood anymore, that much he knew. There just wasn’t.

Instead, Kyle simply shook his head in response and sighed wistfully. “No, it’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

He didn’t dare close his eyes now. Instead, he stared up into the calm indigo nothings above him and quietly wished that this time around, those hopeful words would be the only truth, even if it wasn’t going to be pretty at all. Gossamer…why is everything so exquisitely gossamer?

P l e a s e . . .

R̵̗͖̿e̴͕̞̍ą̴̘͔̽̽̉l̵̺̥͌̌ȋ̷̱͆̂t̵̢̐ŷ̴̤̋ ̷̮͌̍s̵͚̮̫͌͑̀ė̵̡̩̻t̴̫̟̔s̶̖͒̈́ ̵̪̗͆͛̊į̷̩̀͊̍n̶͉̬̆̍͠,̷͎̰͘ ̶̙͓̆̀̄a̵̠̐̇̎ṅ̸̢̜d̸̪͚̭͊ ̸̺̩̭̓͝I̶̮̺͇̾͋̕’̴̛̬̝̳̈́̅l̵̟͍̝̍̇l̷̔͗̕ͅ ̸̟̜̿̐b̵̪̑͗̒e̵̱̒̚ ̶̺̩͔͛̽͂g̸̢̘̥̈͊o̵͔͋́n̴͍̅́̈́ẽ̵̢̈́͗ ̴͎̙̍͌̽ä̵̗́͑g̷͇̥̓͌̈́ä̴͕̳̎̌i̵̟̍̌̕n̷̩̋.̶̖̣̰̈

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multiverse

Remember me, she whispered
Heaven’s so far out of reach, and keep me close
Like a moment you’re afraid to leave
So now this is how it feels when you’re all alone
This is how it feels when your heart starts racing
You can ask but you’ll never know
The way it feels, the way it feels…

~*~

we’re not in the same universe anymore

and our tears flow in different states—

almost as that of plasma and gravity,

perhaps identical, but not at all the same.

the nostalgia creeps up like bated breaths

dead into the silence in the middle of the night

and it stays to suffocate the humid air—

and it stays to suffocate the insomniac mind.

there’s some form of sophisticated equanimity

that was achieved by neither of our farewells,

because the end was approaching at breakneck speed

and there simply wasn’t any time to be more polite

cutting out crass with guns we left in each other’s mouths

hoping the trigger doesn’t get pulled with our fingers

like issues, contorted into funny shapes that don’t make sense

breaking off has never been so easy as a lacklustre smile

but the stars never forgive, even when they forget

and the light from the horizon flickers indistinguishably

forming a supernova of your voice, faint though almost palpable

branded like indelible ink stains on the canvas of my brain.

this reverberating staccato, this thoughtless caprice, this infinite lethargy…

it never ceases to write cold epistles even when i am fast asleep.

oftentimes, i look into the other dimension of that cracked mirror

into the faceless impostor, the version of me that existed

before you killed it off, and before i killed you off in my plane,

and wish to the efflorescing quarks that you’re feeling the same way.

~*~

Lost and terrible, hollow in ways you’ll never know
If it’s all in my head, all in my head
It’s heavier now than it’s ever been, so fake a memory
Keeping me quiet underneath
And if this is the end, if this is the end
Destroy everything and make it new again…

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ápeiros

You were my mockingbird darling;

Caught in between my smileless teeth

As the universe revolved without wonder

.

My cigarette lungs are no good for you

But the cobalt in your stare was all I needed

To get away from a summer-set heaven

.

I must have lost ambrosia on my tongue; as

Your ichor paints over the autumn gloom on my face

And every infinite thought of ours ceases to exist.

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gypsophila

i had a dream that

i plucked the flowers

from his chest and

his smile turned it into

a wilted bouquet.

with the stars wrapped

around the hem of

my sundress and saturn

crying for lost navy,

i was a callow-minded

breath beyond rain

and he told me i was an

endless night, but no,

i did not mind that at all.

for i was kept safe by

the space between his hands

where callas revolved

around forever; and forever,

like time, didn’t exist.

only him. and i. and a garden

full of impossibilities.

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anatomical dissection: feet

i don’t want

to walk endless

stretches of miles

for a destination

that doesn’t exist.

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Failing Light (One Hundred Sleepless Nights)

Do you still love me? I am dying to know
Or did you forget what we shared?
Out of sight, out of mind, I was never even there…

~*~

Above anything else, I would let you bury me tonight.

The stars do not weep in the presence of the moon. Hearts wish not to rend themselves apart and souls no longer magically turn to gold simply because of your silver lining. Oceans remain a mystery, and space remains a final frontier, only left for your lips to discover, and for mine to wonder. I’m fully aware that I wouldn’t chase shadows. You know very well that you wouldn’t hurt the darkness. Nothing else makes sense anymore, but irrationality itself.

Do I mind? Would you care? There is no mercy left to be scavenged in these cold, lifeless hands of ours; hanging by a diaphanous thread, desperately raring to furtively unravel. But I won’t leave. I won’t let you down again. I won’t let this skin be filled with scars that tell no tales, occupied with hurt that leads to blind dead ends, embraced with an eloquent love that never existed. These are but synesthetic bouquets of eternity, laid in an empty grave for the unborn, wilting, wilting, wilted. Only you are the darling evergreen; fragrant, flourishing, faded.

Your voice is the exquisite cadence with which my pulse chooses to hum. My blood dances elegantly at the incipient sound of your hello, and it dwindles into a soft lamenting waltz when that final goodbye echoes, an ethereal lullaby that no deity nor universe can fathom, but it keeps me up from midnight diminuendo until the morning crescendo, wretched by my own asthenic humanity. You are lissome and restless by your personal cozen design. I am revered synthetically in my own chemical lassitude. We are clashing and colliding in the reckless throes of a gossamer accident, writing a halcyon tragedy.

But dear, keep your summery thoughts free of winter miasma. Worry not the deceptive haze of your alabaster reveries, don’t mind the labyrinthine obscurance of my obsidian nightmares, and never fear their contemptuous amalgamation, for I’ll take all of them far away from you, beyond the reach of birthed supernovae and black holes, so you may carry on saving astral symphonies with your lungs, and I can take my last fated exhale with a mellifluent memory. Your bed may be worn-out, but I’ll keep myself warm on the traced outlines you left. And I’ll keep on sleeping. And I’ll keep on dreaming. And I’ll keep on waiting for you to wake me up.

Until then, immortal repose is mine. And yours is immortal repose.

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Rhyme and Reason

I’m a stray for blue boys and a songheart for little bo-peeps.

I wish I didn’t exist in dusty novels and forgotten storybooks the way that your obscene breath does, the way that your dreamscape wings fall off into ashes, the way that you simply do. Always in the ways that I couldn’t.

I despise myself for being a complete upside-down fool, madly limerent for this fiasco of a game that I’ve lost the moment before it even started, violently surrendered and beaten blonde and black to the point where I start doubting myself in bitter gunshots and giving my sweet bullets all up just so I could be your unsigned scarlet letter.

Do you understand me? Because I don’t.

I wish I would have written a hundred synesthetic postcards left unsent, but all I have are these hundred meretricious words to tell you what you don’t know. What you won’t know. And what you never will.

Stay lost, blue boy. Or you’ll end up like me.

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The Vale

From beneath the vale where ghouls adore

What lay beyond euphonious sounds of terror

The skins that writhe, the pestilence feeds

Yet a place so mythic, souls dare not bleed

.

Might thine fearful mind be born and torn?

Might these hands exist only to pray?

Might thine fearful mind be born and shorn?

Might this heart pulsate only today?

.

From beneath the vale where sinners sleep

What lay beyond such calm rather deep

The skins that writhe, the persistence needs

In a place so mythic, souls dare not bleed

.

Might thine fearful eyes seek only the truth?

And yet the blindness be overcome?

Might thine fearful lips speak only the truth?

And yet bitter falsehood be undergone?

.

From beneath the vale where I may scale

What lay beyond deathly silence pale

The skins that writhe, my persephone heeds

Thee to that place so mythic, souls dare not bleed.

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Places In My Veins

I’ll lower your body down into an open grave 
And let the vultures have their way with you
We’ll take you by surprise and spill your blood like wine
Scarlet stains upon the flesh will end the night…

~*~

There’s a place for my pulse

Somewhere within my wrists

But no matter how hard I try

I can’t figure out where it is

.

I’ll rest my head in a sea of nightmares

And drown looking for a sweeter dream

I’ll marry a liar just to find out the truth

High on the promise, low on self-esteem

.

And the haze is piercing my blacktop heart

Latent vortex swirling in a negative universe

Rotting with the blindness that I call my eyes

Hides the blood of another paralysing curse

.

There’s a place for the vaguer beat of my soul

Somewhere under my skin, between my wrists

But no matter how many deep incisions I make

I simply can’t seem to find it; does it even exist?

~*~

Everything you say rings hollow
But you will tell your stories again and again
Sell your half-truths with a smile
Take and inject it, inject it!

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