Tag Archives: fake

Plastic Brains

The feigned humanity

That plastic lips fabricate

Speaking of sincerity

As the scarlet inside fades

.

How can mechanical eyes

Speak of soul, speak of pain?

How can a monochrome vein

Bleed out in sunshine and rain?

.

Perhaps hands have to be clever

Perhaps they just fool themselves

But just how could a plastic mind

Speak about the truth of oneself?

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You’re All Phases And Dark Sides Like The Moon, But You’re Not As Bright (I Would Turn This Into An Extended Play But My Band Hates Me, I Have Mediocre Musical Talent, And No Record Label To Beg)



Phase One: I Don’t Know About You But I’m Ready To Move To San Diego(‘s Disneyland© Theme Park and Resort)

[EXTRACT: WE DO IT IN THE DARK WITH SMILES ON OUR FACES
WE’RE DROPPED AND WELL-CONCEALED IN SECRET PLACES
W E  D O N ‘ T  F I G H T  F A I R]

To all the divorcees in the dancefloor

Singing songs for poor dumped hearts

Won’t you come and take a million pictures

Of my latest 100 billboard-hit chart?

I’m not famous, but I’m on your magazine

Load up the ammunition baby, take it in

The articles say that I’ll save your life

But all I’ll do is steal your brain-bored wife

So I don’t give a shit about your ideal weekends

But buy my merch, I’ll be your best friend

And don’t pretend you’ll just forget about me

When I’m bitching about how everything’s a travesty…



Phase Two: She’s Got A 10 PM Audition Starring At The Back of A Costco Store

[EXTRACT: I’LL KEEP YOU WARM AND WON’T ASK WHERE YOU’VE BEEN
WITH YOUR BACKLESS BACK DRESS SOAKED TO THE SKIN
W H E N  A L L ‘ S  S A I D  A N D  D O N E  T H E Y ‘ R E  S C R A M B L I N G]

West coast smokers choking to death

And a trashy nosebleed is good for the health

Kiss it hard in the back alley like a desperate man

Blow out your sixteen candles with a gun

(and paint the town an ugly shade of party-red)

.

You’re all grown up and ready to waste a week

Looking for a dive bar to drown shots cheap

But the boys never liked you, Mr. Barman

Now won’t you sleep this out again with no one?

(the insults are only as bad as good guys get)

.

I swear I won’t swear, my mouth is clean

I go to church on Sundays and I’m never mean

I swear I won’t swear, I know that it’s all true

Your secrets are all worthless but at least I’ve got you—

(completely wrapped around my finger)



Phase Three: Warm Sympathy Is Just Cold Sarcasm For Wimps

[EXTRACT: I KNOW YOU’VE HEARD ALL THIS BEFORE
LET’S HEAR IT FOR AMERICA’S SWEETHEARTS
I  M U S T  C O N F E S S ,  I ‘ M  I N  L O V E  W I T H  M Y  O W N  S I N S]

I don’t love you at all but I love your therapy

You talk like you’re going deaf, so won’t you lie to me?

.

If it’s not about comforting then I wouldn’t even care

You look even messier today, did you do something with your hair?

.

I said I’d write a million poems about you but I got carpal tunnel

Just like how you said you’d give me a taste of first-class hell

.

We both smiled like a girl’s best friends, only it’s all fake

And we didn’t believe we could mine such coal-black mistakes

.

I don’t love you at all but you scare the devil out of me

But I wouldn’t call you an angel, don’t you just love my honesty?



Phase Four: Children’s Nursery Rhymes Are Really Letting Themselves Go These Days

[EXTRACT: MY SONGS KNOW
WHAT YOU DID IN THE D A R K
S O  L I G H T  ‘ E M  U P]

I ‘ l l  S T U M P  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S T U M P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  w i t h  i d i o t ’ s  s y n c r a s i e s

I ’ l l  s T u M p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S t U m P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  i f  y o u ’ l l  a s k  m e  t o  b e

I ’ l l  s t u m p  y o u ,  u o y  p m u t s  l l ‘ I

M y  n a m e ’ s  n o t  P a t r i c k  b u t  b a b e ,  I ’ m  a  s t a r

B u t  i f  y o u  t h i n k  t h a t  t h i s  j o k e ’ s  g o i n g  t o o  f a r

T h e n  I ’ l l  d u m p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  D U M P  y o u .



Phase Five: If My Brain Could Actually Think For Itself, What Would It Say?

[EXTRACT: IF I COULD GET MY SHIT TOGETHER
I WANNA RUN AWAY AND NEVER SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN
N E V E R  S E E  A N Y  O F  Y O U  A G A I N]

I’m

                    too

fucking

                             tired

           for

                                               all

       this

                                                                 bullshit.

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sidewards strangers

and i crave your humanity

bleeding smile for the normalcy

hair blushing red with insanity

blue skin set to sovereignty

.

and i crave this humanity

acting like a murderous society

let me enter your uncertainty

and let my eyes see clarity.

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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…

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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…

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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…

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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.

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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…

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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.

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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.

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