Tag Archives: forget

day & night

sometimes,

in the morning

when the sunshine

hits my eyes,

it’s so bright that

it reaches beyond the

very depths of me

and leaves some light

for me to enjoy—

.

but then evening comes,

and the shadows

blind my eyes,

and it’s so dark that

it takes me back into the

very depths of me

and makes me forget

what colours look like…

and i’m not okay again.

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scar tissues

Baby, pour over, tell me, are we concrete?
What would you do without
My perfect company to your undressed spine?
And I can hear you drag behind my car by your broken legs
(Swallowing stitches in her sleep as she)
Stole my only view, may I never blink…

~*~

i am your bare bones

and the words that can fracture it

a faked death, disappearance

in the lonely asphalt ash

so undress my bad memories

take off that pretty, pretty, pink dress

and show me the lacerations

the lingering bruises on my spine

of your decayed entertainment

modern anxiety at its brutality finest

and tell me again how bad

all of my imminent injuries were

until i can feel enough

until i am enough

don’t hesitate on backburners

simply make me believe

that the chemicals in my open veins

serotonin, endorphins, tryptophan—

are not just a lie you made up…

like the raised welts on

my broken, praying wrists

nor the unrecoverable night i came to you,

sobbing and begging for gravity

to come drag me under

underwater, underground,

because i was desperate for it to be over

but we crashed in abstract strokes

only one pair of lungs breathed again;

a sordid altercation.

you’re a lucid dreamer, love

and i have an eidetic memory

and this damn world has selective hearing

over gasoline and sunshine

and the difference that it makes

when you light the aphotic city on fire

like a paradox under my skin.

this is my mass hysteria

although i’m calm at the altar veneer

and absent blank, my mind is an

apocalyptic wasteland

and i’m the sole survivor.

so surround my lavender hands

and black out the soft sodium streetlights

and patch up these obscene bones

and simply say the words

to make me forget.

~*~

Listen, I’m the one who made you
I’ll be the one who brings you down
But this will be the last time…

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happy cake day, sunflower.

you’re more than just the love song i play

when i feel like falling down the stairs—

you’re the landing that catches my broken bones.

.

and honestly, i don’t want to go on and on about how

you’re sunshine in the fog, or peachy sky cliches etcetera

i ran out of them a long time ago on your smile alone

.

i never get tired of those stupid monochrome dreams

at night where no one’s talking but i hear voices everywhere…

guess you’re the only voice i wanna hear in my head

.

because that’s all i am, another overused arcade game

and you pushed all of the big red buttons and you made me

self-destruct like pixelated fireworks to win the round

.

but that’s okay. i don’t mind. heaven is but a concept

i’m rather not willing to get lost in, but halos and hazards

are all there are to it. but you’re worth it…aren’t you?

.

but i guess the sour taste doesn’t ever leave me now

and i badly wish i could just forget about you, and myself,

and the days i chewed off the grey-painted calendar

.

for i don’t need to leave pastel notes or egg timers

or freshly-brewed coffee on the kitchen to let you know;

the universe says that’s not how reality works now

.

so instead i’ll tell none of my best friends about your laugh

and wish your name on every fairy light and lucky dandelion

that reflects the iridescence of your watercolour ocean eyes

.

and i’ll tangle up my breaths and my words and my awful art

and i’ll break the hourglass just to stop time for a while—and i’ll sing

to keep my yellow lovely safe from the world i can’t ever have.

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Wrong Weekend

03.10.18. Saturday, 3:02 AM. Manhattan, New York.


He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes
Started making his way past 2 in the morning
He hasn’t been sober for days
Leaning now into the breeze
Remembering Sunday, he falls to his knees…


It’s three in the morning when I lock my heart behind the closet doors

And then I take another drink so I could forget what it was fighting for

Everything is louder when the sounds of a life once held are long gone

I’m crashing and cresting like the tidal waves of this bathroom tantrum

I’m looking for someone that has disappeared from newspaper tragedies

Hey mister, have you seen this person in the photo that was never taken?

It’s another hazy day wasted, but I guess I’ll go home just to burn it down

Write a song on my six-stringed guitar, and I wonder where you are again.


Forgive me, I’m trying to find
My calling, I’m calling at night
I don’t mean to be a bother
But have you seen this girl?
She’s been running through my dreams
And it’s driving me crazy, it seems…



07.16.18. Saturday, 3:57 AM. Manchester, England.


I’m not coming back (forgive me)
I’ve done something so terrible
I’m terrified to speak (I’m not calling, I’m not calling)
But you’d expect that from me
I’m mixed up, I’ll be blunt, now the rain is just…


It’s three in the morning when I put on my coat and slipped past the doors

After an evening of drinks so I could forget that I’m even fighting anymore

Everything is louder when the sounds of a life once held begins to fall apart

I’m collapsing and colliding just trying to get you out of that bathroom stunt

I’m losing myself and slowly disappearing under a pile of newspaper eulogies

Hey miss, can we delete ourselves, to pretend that this photo was never taken?

It’s another hazy day spent, so I guess I’ll go home in a place where I don’t burn

Right by the six-windowed room, and I won’t ever wonder where you are again.


You’re driving me crazy, I’m—
Washing you out of my hair and out of my mind
Keeping an eye on the world, from so many thousands
Of feet off the ground, I’m over you now
I’m at home in the clouds, and towering over your head
Well I guess I’ll go home now. I guess I’ll go home…


 

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It’s not like I want bad dreams, but anything that’s a breakaway from the pure hellish darkness I see every night would be quite nice for a change.

In an ocean of noise, I first heard your voice
Ringing like a bell as if I had a choice, oh well
Left in the morning while you were fast asleep
Into an ocean of violence, a world of empty streets…

~*~

I don’t sleep anymore.

I forgot what it feels like

To slow my heavy breaths,

To dream, and be paralysed,

And be afraid that I’ll never

Wake up from the nightmare.

.

I don’t even remember the

Goriest of dreams, even if I

Swore to myself that I would

But as soon as my bleary eyes

Open up beyond the reality, it’s

Like nothing ever happened at all.

.

I don’t know how it happened

But now all I do every night is

Stare up at the dripping ceiling

And think about everything and

Nothing, and imagine that I was

Levitating lucidly, and I’ll wonder

.

What it was like to breathe and to feel,

To resemble a human, and I look back

On the days when I still pretended, and

I did it very well, but now my skin is just

Beginning to peel and melt off like petals…

And then it’s morning, and I don’t wake up.

~*~

You’ve got your reasons
And me I’ve got mine
But all the reasons I gave
Were just lies to buy myself some time
I’m gonna work it out
‘Cause time won’t work it out…

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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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Ready Steady

This will always be mine, so much more than just a dream to me
And I will never be fine, with letting you ruin everything
And I will never fucking follow your lead
Give up on you, so you can take it out on me
I’m sorry that you had to watch your life come tumbling down…

~*~

I’m running out of chances to say what I wanna say

I’ll offer myself another but sooner or later, I’ll have to face today

When the burden becomes blood and control turns into cost

And I forget who I am, what was mine and what was lost

.

Open a thousand windows and the doors close off again

They take it out on me, but I always needed the extra dose of pain

Cover it up and keep it down, and my accomplices abandon

Once the going gets tough, thinking I won’t be able to go on alone

.

But keep the cash bet to my name and grit your chipped teeth

I won’t throw away what I can take, I swear I won’t cheat

I won’t cry tears but I’ll spit gasoline just to put out the raging flames

Blame my headspace for the arson and run, it’s just all the same

.

I know the things I’ve said don’t mean much until I do a thing

You can arrest me for my crimes, but I’ve got a jailbreak primed and waiting

I’m running out of chances, but I never needed any in the first place

I never required them to listen, because any day now I’ll have to face my mistakes.

~*~

Now it’s my time and I’m ready to go
Here we go, we got one more chance to make it
Better not lose control
Before everyone forgets your name…

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Blood Will Have Blood

The reverent situation embellished in derelict plinths

A monolithic monument for the glorious and the bold

Calm deceit that shackled itself by the crumbling base

Of the cavalier and honourables, now but history aged

Voices of the casualties pilfered from pernicious graves

What must be forgotten is an imprint of those who saved

The damned beaten down into the ground from which they lay

Sacrificing blood so clockwork eyes may live to see another war-bent day.

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Hold On, Fall Away

Do you know
I count your heartbeats before you sleep?
I bite my fingernails to bone
And then I crawl back under the stairwell
To a place I call my home…

~*~

Hold on, she says, and her suspended voice feels like a serpentine blossom, mutinous choking thorns wrapped gracelessly around the wall of my deflated lungs’ chambers, puncturing them effectively and leaving me gasping for the air that never enters my mouth.

But I can’t breathe anymore, I implore.

Hold on, that simple phrase again, manipulative and senseless, gently caressing the convoluted scars on my wet face like quietly-raining feathers from a fallen divine being’s cast wings, the burning touch barely grazing past decrepit flesh, ethereal and gossamer.

I didn’t want to miss anything, but the wind is chafing my dehydrated eyes. So I blink. I suddenly feel dizzy and nearly fall flat on my back, reveries resting as I attempt to steady myself. Sleep would be so merciful right now.

Hold on, another rousing round to jolt back the drowsy senses of my rapidly-decaying nerves. Each uttered word is like the sweetest taste of corrupted fruit in an exegesis dream, and I can’t allow myself to swallow it anymore, even if I took the first bite of sin.

Don’t make me do this. A foreign voice breaks the muffled barrier, and I flinch in static shock before shamefully realising that the unfamiliar sound was my own. Who…who was I now?

Hold on, the conversation hits like a loaded shotgun with a chipped bayonet, bullet penetrating the back of my head and cracking my skull once, before the sharpened blade cleanly slices through my wandering brain, a merciless double kill for certainty. Bang. Crash. Slash. Crack. Death.

I’m forgetting the colour of your hair now, the dainty lavender scent that follows you around everywhere you flutter, the way your plush lips mouthed serenades that collided and lit up fireworks in my reflection; I’m forgetting the sensation of seeing you, of wanting to see you again.

Hold on, the promenading whisper has amalgamated into an earsplitting scream now, dangerous hedonism dancing in demons and demigods around my shattered ears, past my constricting throat, relentlessly waltzing in wearied circles over and under what used to be the armistice memory of you.

No—My deteriorating vision blurs and falters, cascading and collapsing in iridescent shades of gold and silver, coalescing in glistening hues of diamonds and rubies, fluctuating in pastel blossoms of jasmines and forget-me-nots, all before shutting down into that damning void of sempiternal blackness. The last thing I saw with my weakening sight was her colourless ashen eyes tear up once, twice.

Hold on…was the last thing I ever heard.

~*~

Murder the moment!
My god, I’m the serpent
I’m sorry, I can’t see
That you truly love me…

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W h a t · I f · I · C a n ’ t · F o r g e t · Y o u ?

You won’t ruin the sunshine you left glowing on her fingers

They must think it’s dirty, but a work of art can’t be understood

With the pieces they left to light up what you thought you had

The necklace you still keep is just a memory, so careless and rude

If they begin to forget the audacious vivacity that you provide

Don’t wait for another phone call to ring in the middle of the night

The frustration in acrylic veins, alabaster failure they pursued

You gave second chances for the third time, but what if they don’t even want to?

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