Tag Archives: false

Misdial

Daydreams that you never want to leave
Only your own thoughts to keep you company
Like a room of strangers staring quietly
Playing make-believe to keep you in between
Selfish and alone, where did you go?
Never find you in a memory…

~*~

It’s selfish to keep it in between my eyes

But I think I’m losing the disconnection

As I constantly find myself in debt with doubt

Wondering if I caused the false commotion

.

‘Cause the conversations don’t play out the same

And I don’t know if it’s all simply me to blame

Music’s a little duller when you’re not there to listen

At night, I wake up to the wrong daydreams again

.

I shouldn’t hold out hope to a fragile glass phone

But the rocks in my hand don’t wanna be alone

So I’ll take back my words, the way I always do

And regret that I couldn’t be your dial tone clue

.

I just hate the way that time fades the brightest of stars

And when the sun comes up, the horizon’s a little less blue

I hate that I couldn’t be there to be a distracting lullaby

Maybe you didn’t lose me, but I sure as hell lost you.

~*~

I feel your apathy, to me it all feels the same
I want to know how to think the way you think
About anyone but me, but you’re never sure
Never present, I want to fill my head with you…

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Simple Explanation

Driven by passion, outward away from family and friends
But what they can’t see is that everyday I’m drowning in a sea
Of faces that I miss so desperately with each flashing countenance—
And the weight of their absence has brought me more than once to tears
I wake from sleep violently only to witness those lives and faces
Disappear slowly behind me…

~*~

I.) Mismatched Cultures And Dead Parents

He’s got a bullet where his brain should be

And broken toys where a heart should beat

The stripes on his sweater had begun to fade

The nostalgic photographs lied except for one

So he’s turned to smoke to keep himself awake

And he’s turned to secrets to keep himself alive

But it wasn’t enough to save him from phantoms

Now he’s carried on the wrong side of the casket

No one saw it coming; no one can figure him out

Whispers of self-sacrifice, but quiet murder hung

Of the boy who played with fire but didn’t put it out

It was a mystery—it didn’t make sense to anyone but him.

~*~

II.) False Cancer And A Secret Trip To Rio

A dying man seconds away from his final breath

And his wife by the bedside that couldn’t take any

Collapsed on the floor, the debilitated cried for help

Of what seemed to be a miracle, a feigned recovery

They would die for the other, just another ancient lie

There’s no love without guilt and no guilt without love

The operating table was prepped for a wrongful death

To save the irreparable, it’s too late for her, but not him

The grief was mistaken and the medicine was not taking

All because of a surreptitious slip to a beach without sun

He lived to tell the tale of how she flatlined before his eyes

Under premises of a truth confessed too late, and what it had done.

~*~

We savored the taste of our sweet youth
And now, with calloused hands, gather the remaining fruit
To go any farther, we must endure further pains
Skinned, mashed, and finally strained
Fermenting in the time spent away
Only to return with a fine vintage
To cheers to the health of those who stayed.

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Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry

Dreamcatcher

We’ve been a burden though we were kept alive
By the ones we’ve forsaken, by the ones at our side
The truth we’ve found is out there lost in everything
We can show the way for the wandering
When we’re young, we’re so naive….

~*~

It comes in wavering collapses

Of grief and breathless apologies

The artificial halogens are but false hope

As the truth is buried up to your knees

.

Where do I stand still if not for time?

I feel tears threatening to dwell again

Borderline deranged on black composure

Cyanide approval for minutes of craven

.

Is it worth the catch to let go of the dream?

There’s a ghost whispering lies inside my skin

And if I choose to listen to the sound of hell

Is there a way for me to break the spell?

.

But guide me home where the stars don’t hurt

And the light cast upon me is my transient rebirth

I won’t be resurrected in the blink of a goodbye

Though perhaps this time, I would feel less when I die.

~*~

It’s easy to see we’re running out of time, the walls are collapsing
They’re coming down on me, and nothing’s as it seems
This world is in ruins, you can’t believe what you see
Don’t you see, don’t you see? Don’t you desire to see the truth?

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Ash & Tongue

Ash is just a word, but why does it taste so ironically bitter in my mouth? Does it hurt to say it, because the conflagrating embers originated from my pharynx, tactlessly ignited after I accidentally swallowed phosphorous nitrate and it corroded against my sandpaper throat and set me on fire? Who would kiss a person with a mouth this filthy? Even the most affectionate of mothers turn their backs away from my chapped sooty lips, bleeding of halitosis and ashes and lies lies lies.

There it is, that word again, pulling my voice under hell and waking me up when I’m having the sweetest dream in my acerbic existence. The exit signs are glowing softly in delicate overtones, yet my bloodshot eyes perceive it as an uproarious neon scream, blinding my eyes, deafening my sight, blackening my vision. The water’s getting colder, I’m caught up in the rip, and my footing has slipped away. I’m swimming, no, drowning in the hazy fumes, dizzy from the medication-addled ozone, and still I could not hear a single truth amid all the false accusations.

He was a man until you destroyed him. You were a girl before I desecrated you, cautiously building you up brick by chalkdust brick, all the while as I’m hiding away the solitary intention of vulgarly demolishing the body that is your temple. And it was all too late for you when you found out. Did you survive all the devastation I caused and rose up from the rubble like a newly-reborn phoenix? Or have your devout worshipers fled the havoc and left you suffocating and buried under all the debris and ashes? Ash is just a name I used to call in my sleep, but why…why does it taste so painful between my teeth?

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Filed under Prose

farce, fake, false

how long do

i have to put up

to my friends

with such a farce?

how long do

i have to keep

on ignoring all my

internal wars?

how long do

i have before this

apathy starts to

shatter and break?

how long do

i have left to live

to atone for all my

abhorrent mistakes?

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Filed under Poetry

Lies in Jewelry Boxes

Your sophism was a true talent

Which I was rather envious of

Lacing my tongue like hemlock

Its toxicity I’ve learned to love

Diamond lies glimmer lethally

I mined it out of your arteries

Coruscating past an acid flesh

Transpiercing it all desultorily

Who am I to cease your whims?

Cuffs bejeweled with gold voices

So offer me rubies and sapphires

If you feel precious and helpless

Faux phantasm you think succinct

Painting an entity bland and bleak

And I was a fool to let you think I am

You didn’t have to lie to be the higher man.

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Filed under Poetry

false assumptions

don’t make

some foolish

assumptions

if you can’t

handle the heat

and never

make false

interferences

if you cannot

fix your own shit.

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Filed under Poetry

The Ba[sta]rd

What do I have to do

To prove to you

That these songs don’t

Bleed for your ego?

I understand you’re not

Paper thin, I think

But I never knew you can

Be this absurdly thick

I know you reckon

I’m all rose and posies

But I smash my mirror daily

And rip off the rosaries

For the only way I’ll

Ever know how to feel

Is with the metal blades

As a numbing thrill

But don’t get me wrong

Love’s as good as it gets

It’s like a dying dog

Flea infested and wet

Oh, how I fucking wish

There’s just so much more

But that’s the finale

Of my transparent score

So catch the obvious

With your obscured eyes

So you’d refrain from

Obsessing with asinine lies

I have just gone through

A truckload of shit

And you don’t even fucking

Know the half of it

I can’t be loquacious so

I write it all in ink and blood

There’s no one else I

Could dare trust to nod

And I don’t need your burden

To add to my heavy load

So just bait another sucker

Crashing on the road

But don’t sympathise now

With my hypodermic needles

I’m just a first class prick

But when I’m feeling deep

Am I ever glad to have

A buddy that’s a total git.

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The Friend and the Firmament

The sky, in faint wisps of cloudy whispers, softly told her to hope, hope so hard that it hurt her warm palpitating heart and her quaint labyrinthine mind and the inner reaches of her fragile whimsical soul; simply hope, and the pressure from the hurt shall transform the sooty coal into a glimmering diamond, a luminous jewel with lethal angles cut into an impossible perfection.

So she smiled back and followed her dearest friend’s advice, and she hoped, hoped so hard and intense that it almost shattered her into a million unidentifiable pieces, but she gritted her teeth and clenched her knuckles and she held on to that painful hope, using it as a concrete anchor, hoping and holding for dear life.

Now the cunning hurt had buried itself in the deepest, most calignious nook of her spirit and being, the very entity that once nearly broke her in the first place now ironically keeping her together, and the proud, sneering, cruel hurt never left, no matter how hard she tried to expel it from within her.

She yelled frustratedly at the rapidly-fading sky and called it a liar and a traitor and an enemy and a multitude of degrading names more colourful than the most spectacular sunset that her lost companion had ever painted, asking for answers, barbed amalgamation of hope and hurt piercing itself deeper with every uttered jinx.

Yet in the end, she can only collapse in tiredness and futility, pityingly pleading, with viscid inky tears running down her cheeks and staining her moon-white cotton dress, for her dearest friend to remove the spreading hurt, the unrequited hope that poisoned her body and crippled her system and tore her soul apart.

But the sky had already turned dark, and the stars were nowhere to be seen.

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Filed under Prose

Dämonkomplex

The demon hides his horns

And walks among the crowd

Thinking himself to be rarer

An angel among the beasts

Thinking he’s so clever to be

Concealing his horns, and he

Reckons he’s fooling them all

But he’s only just still demon

As dark as any other lurkers

The only thing that damages

Him is how he thinks he’s so

A transcendental entity who

Masks his horns with a smirk

Manipulating transparencies

“Darling, you don’t know me”

Yet he’s as mysterious as a

Clear pressed sheet of glass

And those angsty acts of his

It wields paroxysmal laughs

The angels can only pity him

Poor demon and his complex

For the only one he convinces

Is his foolish, delusional self.

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Filed under Poetry