Tag Archives: find

phantom boy

don’t you go,

phantom boy

i’m still not done

painting your portrait

to hang in my walls

long after the house rots,

long after i’ve passed away.

they said to let you go

for you’ve already found

your bluest heaven

where you can sleep with

fleecy floral angels,

but i don’t think i could

let you go that easily.

i want to capture you,

your ethereal silhouettes,

your faded outlines,

your scars and scepticisms,

your details and blurs,

and your coalescing heart.

because i still have mine,

phantom boy

and it beats angrily—

refusing to let me rest

until every colour, linework,

and careful brushstroke

is immaculate and

tastes tangibly of you.

i know you wish to leave soon,

phantom boy…

but won’t you please stay

and spare me just

one last masterpiece?

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(lost and) found

why do

i hide you

why do

i even try,

to convince

myself that

what i’m doing

is alright?

.

why did

i lose you

when you’re

just a lie,

and why do

i continue

when i know that

it’s not right?

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Figments

She’s a taciturn ghost

At the back of the room

Speaking in silver poetry

And in dead languages

But no one could hear her

.

She’s a mere phantom

In everyone’s faded mind

Translucent, except for

The scarlet ribbons

Threaded through her veins

.

You can only see her

At the very corner of your eyes

And if you ever briefly turn

Your head to try to find her…

S h e  w a s  n e v e r   t h e r e

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lost at sea

Can you tell me what hurts more
Is it remembering, or forgetting
The past that once was ours?
Am I remembering
Still remembering, or forgetting?

~*~

bring the driftwood

i call my own heart

back to the safe shore

and brush off the splinters

from your open ribs…

remember that without you,

i would not be found—

but never forget that you

were the one who lost

me in the first place.

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Eight-Ball/Outlook

I’ve eaten bricks for breakfast

And my tongue is set on fire

All my nerves have lost their nerve

And my brain’s a walking satire

.

As the people are counted off

Like the fingers I have trembling

Attend the wake of my mild mistakes

And rude intermittent whispering

.

So I wait, and I breathe, and I sit steady

As I wait for the signal to turn ready

So I wait, and I write, and I try to find

When my heart’s made up its mind.

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Be Something

Nobody thinks what I think, nobody dreams when they blink
Think things on the brink of blasphemy, I’m my own shrink
Think things are after me, my catastrophe at my kitchen sink
You don’t know what that means because a kitchen sink to you
Is not a kitchen sink to me, okay friend?

~*~

If I were to collapse

On myself and care

About the way I speak

And how I do my hair

Then I wouldn’t be here

Then I wouldn’t be dead

I’ll just be an old memory

At the back of my head

Yes, I want to grow up

But I want to do it my way

So I don’t need any handouts

Of so-and-so’s displays

And I’ll take the challenge

But with no instructions

Leave me to figure out

And trip again until i’m done

Because life is meaningless

All this shit doesn’t matter

So I’ll take my chances

And test the deeper waters

Then if I fail, well just be there

To say that “I told you so”

Even then, I wouldn’t care

Because this I know

At least I tried my very best

And I claimed my stakes

Instead of just simply regretting

That I never made mistakes.

~*~

Are you searching for purpose?
Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something then, it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You’ll see purpose start to surface…

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anatomical dissection: brain

what hurts more,

remembering to forget

or forgetting to remember?

.

you count all the wins

and all the pyrrhic losses

that take your victories under

.

what hurts more,

the scars on your shoulders

or the scars inside your mind?

.

invisible to the naked eye

but a succumbing force that

makes you lose what you’ll find

.

what hurts more,

staying for the sake of leaving

or living for the sake of staying?

.

lock the pain up in your room

and hope this house burns down

with you still trapped inside, crying

.

what hurts more,

all the words that they said

or the words you never spoke?

.

sticks and stones don’t break bones

but splints and cement puts them back

quietly mending what you always broke

.

what hurts more,

knowing too much of everything

or drowning in your own ignorance?

.

scourge for knowledge, miss for bliss

drain the oceans and fill up the abyss

self-hatred fighting your self-defiance

.

what hurts more,

this cold logical ideology

or the lying sentimental truth?

.

it’s a constant push and pull

of devastating dreams and riled reality

inspiring like the rabbit inspires the wolf

.

what hurts more,

overthinking things again

or not thinking about it at all?

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anatomical dissection: heart

“i’ll find someone

to love me”

she whispered

as she fell

“i’ll find someone

to love me,

to love me in hell.”

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the story

don’t make me run

to the ends of the earth

looking for an ending

for i could chase it

my entire life and still

find myself at the beginning.

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ii.) heartbeat recital.

beautiful-flowers-photography-sky-Favim.com-1851708

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