Tag Archives: fake

pain(less)

Midday delusions
Of pushing this out of his head
Maybe out of his mind…

~*~

you didn’t use to hurt

but they said it was okay

so you made up some smiles

and you hid it all away

but the smiles have bled out

and your secret is all they could say

you didn’t use to hurt yourself

but you just wanted to feel okay.

~*~

All alone he turns to stone
While holding his breath half to death
Terrified of what’s inside…

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Pantomime

Borderline drowning in these messy thoughts
I’ll come down once I get some more
This substance got a hold on me, I’m insecure
I’m hearing voices, what the fuck’s that sound?
I’m going through problems I shouldn’t talk about…

~*~

I put myself in someone else’s heart

And it didn’t beat, no, it didn’t beat at all

My soul’s uncomfortable from twisting

And turning, trying to fit in the desperate crawl

The insecurities taste as heavy as substances

Making my open veins cough up less blood

I just don’t believe in myself as much as I should

And doubts weigh me down when I’ve had

A step away from my eyes and into empty shoes

Which squeaked when I wore them, the laces loose

And the soles were worn down from these miles of walking

I may have gone the distance but I didn’t do the talking

I’m no longer genuine, just as diamonds are always fake

Covering up for my mortalities with graver mistakes

And pretending I wasn’t me, for once I don’t know

What the parts of my anatomy were, how everything goes

The self-hatred whispers things I don’t want to have thought

And my mama tells me I’ve always been what I’m not

Head a mess, anxiety regaled in fanfare intuition

They say life’s not fair without a taste of contradiction

But I’m just trying to regain what I once lost with my pen

Discover all the stories I missed making amends again

I put myself in someone else’s heart, and it didn’t beat at all

But mine only started to breathe when I let myself answer the call.

~*~

I’m not comfortable
No, I just can’t seem to feel at all
I’m not comfortable
So, I’ll take another pharmaceutical
‘Cause I’m uncomfortable…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

i’ve got a rusty crowbar to your arms that says you won’t do a damn thing

Let’s have no sadness, furrowed brow
There’s nothing new in dying now
Though living is no newer
Though living is no newer
And it was written in blood…

~*~

everyone’s doing it

it’s the latest thrill

set up sanity in rivets

for the latest pitiful kill

it makes you special

oh, ain’t you so brave

got miracles to pay for

and sins at the nave

got a little peach mark

and that fool’s little smile

hey trooper, you did it

you’re unique for a while

but blood doesn’t last

and fiction is just fiction

say that it stays forever

as you conjure up emotion

faker than those tears

sweet as your death breath

facade made for bitching

to write about yourself

but hey, get the comedown

and sleep the sorry away

it’s suicide season, baby

and you’re the latest trophy

everyone’s doing it

it’s the latest fucking bore

‘cause what’s a better fashion

than the sleeves you wore?

~*~

Like roses, we blossom then die
Like roses, we fall apart, like roses, we fall apart
Though living is no newer, though living is no newer
It was written in blood on a fucking suicide note
The day before he died…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Crash Test, Crash Cart

Give my crash test body

Another shot of lidocane

My punctured lungs need

Its unusual shot of oxygen

.

As it s-s-stutters through

What used to be a clarity

B-b-breaking apart syllables

Like a feigned calamity

.

Wait for contagious chemicals

To course through liquid lies

Imitating another fake panacea

Muffling premonitions to die

.

A shutdown in my system

Scribbled clots all over my veins

Filtered in expendable organs

Until only basic parts will remain

.

The incentive for a flourished

Technique in my pericardium

Paranoia cyanotic, bare threads

Until there’s angels in the room

.

Arrhythmia ticking metronomes

In a pulse that still blindly beats

And a serpent in the colder lumen

Ravaging the amputated disease

.

So just give this crash test dummy

Another shot of every single medicine

And if I die before my body wakes

Ensure that I’ll have enough morphine.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

The Wrong Setting

I feel it everyday, it’s all the same
It brings me down but I’m the one to blame
I’ve tried everything to get away
So here I go again, chasing you down again
Why do I do this? Over and over…

~*~

I’m depressed diagnostical

Five seconds away from detonating

Can’t talk about my problems

Just gotta keep on fucking smiling

.

Don’t feel it’s worth it ‘cause I’m worthless

A waste of space and a waste of pain

So I’ll count all my secrets and my losses

And drive my best friend near insane

.

I can’t sugarcoat my neurotic rants anymore

In sweeter words and fancier metaphors

I used to patch up all the dull grey spares

But I ran out of pastel and neon colours

.

I can’t sleep, so I write, I can’t write, so I sleep

Repeat the cycle until it’s bent off backwards

I can’t do something, and I can’t do nothing

Summer’s just a prolonged heatstroke reward

.

I’m suicidal sensational

In between dying and already dead

But I can’t talk about the same problematic shit

Someone please get me out of my head…

~*~

It feels like everyday stays the same
It’s dragging me down and I can’t pull away
So here I go again, chasing you down again…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

write and wrong

i’m a liar

and a faker

and i just can’t

say it straight

hide behind

this wall of words

and you can’t

read me so you

would hate

how quite vexing

i am, when i

think i speak so

honestly profound

and i preach

unholy gospels

like another

nameless sound

make a story

with a soft landing

like that would

help the blow

but all it does is

pretend i’m not

dying, that heaven’s

the place to go

i’m a liar

and a faker

i don’t know how

to be sincere

and i wish i could

change myself

but i blurred the

lines too much

to return into clear.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

first act, insanity; next stop, recovery

“I never meant to hurt nobody
I never meant to hurt you, no, no…”

~*~

acrid laughter is ringing in my ears

good-natured, perhaps, to them

but the sound pierces like twisted barbed wires

straight through the caliginous corners

of my teeth, bared like a regurgitated heart

and almost—if not just as—crimson

as the fucked-over severity in my demented head

but sometimes it feels good to simply pretend

that the banter is a little less than risque

and i let my agitation be fooled…what an idiot.

as i’m sorry plays like a stenographic record

etching deeper grooves in the back of their stares

but never playing the right kind of music

am i screaming a typhoon in your clear day parade?

i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i want to cut it out

i want to cut my fingers open to point it out

and take all the sharp-edged blame all for myself.

but my testy temper rides on the flexible bullet

severely mutilating this nascent entertainment

that masqueraders and pantomimists have played

for the melancholic, esoteric, plastic actor

and you insisted on applause and receptivity

despite my initial protests against it all

for i am not your contagious chemistry audience

but i surrender my scab blood to you anyway

and keep clapping on and on until my hands fall apart

like a marionette’s lamenting swan song;

like this borrowed skin that sheds itself as we speak.

their laughter is mutating into vicious sneers

stabbing like blunt edges of a mangled fountain pen

and making me grit my shattered teeth—

your fogged-over eyes interpreting it as a smile

amused, but i’m simply bemused by my endurance.

i’m tired. i’m tired. i’m so fucking tired.

of the teasing testing taking terrors tampering

with my dysfunctional mood, its revolution ever retrograde…

it’s not your fault. did i ruin your sunshine again?

i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

killjoy

Every minute that you scream
Before the errant scars
And the dying stars

Every second that you take
To fake your life…

~*~

smile it out

and feel the pain

another word

to your disdain

you stupid kid

who wants to hear

about your aches

about your fears?

so stick it out

and feel their joy

you’re just a tool

you’re just a toy

take the blame

avoid the conflict

your wretched name

is never worth it

did they buy the act?

another great dare

you could be truthful

but who would care?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

just a little more for overdose

My mind is wide asleep, my conscience deep awake 
The promises I keep are not the ones I make 
I count the caustic causes, I lost count of regrets 
A surplus of good intentions, don’t provide me with content 
All I want is just a little content…

~*~

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

and i want to find it

and drink it all

to keep myself from

impulsively banging my

migraine-shot head

into the wall

and possibly haemorrhage

because she doesn’t believe me

that i am in pain

i’m in pain.

and it’s not just physical

but if it doesn’t show

in thermometers and bruises

that must mean

i’m faking it

to get out of class

because what sane person

wouldn’t want to feign

being suicidal for such petty reasons?

i’m breathing heavily,

ragged cries echoing hollowly

on the bathroom tiles, and

my feet are shivering

from stepping on the wet floor

for too long, but i can’t run away.

i try to make up my mind,

waiting for the spots of blood

to catch in my ivory soap

but instead the tears beat them to it.

it hurts it hurts IT HURTS

i want to scream

but my younger sister is still eating her

breakfast obliviously outside,

most likely wondering

why the hell

i have been silent

for more than 30 minutes now

i hope she thinks i’m dead.

i hope i wish i’m dead.

i’m waiting for her to leave already

so i could tiptoe out

of the bathroom

and get a new pair of metal smiles

goddamnit, she better hurry up.

meanwhile, my mother is ready to shove

the wall clock down my throat

and shriek at me that

i’m already running late

i know she wants me dead.

I know i want to be dead.

and of course, she blames me

for staying up to do

the only thing i can do

to try to just fucking stay alive

better to be dying inside

than to waste my cold future

and skip a day of class

(as if i have a future at that point)

i don’t have to be a liability

to her, to any of them, right now

and this sickness was

my own undoing,

i was clearly asking for it.

i’m guilty

of what i know

but not of what i did

to myself or them

but for what i did even though

i have what i need alone

…i’m fucking weak,

i know already.

and to think that i actually

cared for these bastards

once or even twice

in my life—how disgusting.

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

that she’s probably

knocking down

all at once to keep from

impulsively slamming

my migraine-shot head into

the pristine white walls

because she thinks that i’m a liar

and since i guess i am…i fucking believe her

just as much as she believes

that i am in pain.

i’m in pain.

~*~

I choose the beaten path, I’ve been to where it leads 
Why I keep coming back, a mystery to me 
I found what I’ve been seeking, it’s too late for me to care 
My aspiration’s leaking from a hole I can’t repair 
Maybe I just don’t want it repaired.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Halo Blue

We tore our phones to shreds
We didn’t answer nothing
To all friends and family, lost or dead
I couldn’t get much sleep
You lost your self in mine
It couldn’t get much worse…

~*~

Systematic shutdown, and one by one my optimism closes

You pulled the plug on the starlight that keeps me awake

I may not be in my melting point, but I’m still a hot-lead mess

I think I’d rather stay dead than to keep my tongue fake

.

There’s nothing else I would feel if not for our blue hair bet

But mine is deep ocean dark, yours is a bubblegum ice cream hue

Even if we blended together, we can’t ever be a scarlet sunset

Does that mean we should just stop trying? I say it’s all up to you

.

I’m usually full of shit, but I like you and I don’t like anyone, hey

You’re one of my favourite few, and if I were well-versed, I could say

That my eyes are only four glimpses away from reaching your sun

But I’m not, so I guess all I can say is a cliche point-blank ‘you’re fun’

.

Fine, it’s not all about me and my sadness, but I don’t have to care

I’ve been withholding my cries for help ever since I discovered it was there

I might not be cool enough for your cult, but I wanna join the club

Of the haters asking for another lobotomy and demented idiots equally in love

.

With this systematic shutdown’s taking over, one by one my cynicism closes

And you pulled out the wires and circuits to turn off the stars that burned into my sleep

I don’t think I’m thinking straight from thinking about your thoughts all the time

But I would rather stay down than to keep lying to myself about what I can take and keep.

~*~

I think I’ll die obsessed
Let’s give up fighting back
You don’t need to grip the best
Because we’re lucky people
And you’ll never have to sleep alone…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry