Tag Archives: future

hexanol

i really miss all those lonely nights with you. you wore the moon as a funny mask, and i always laughed at how absurd it was. your perfume reminded me of freshly-cut grass and stardust mixed together, and i was always intoxicated by it. we had nothing else to our names but the purely daydreamed life we couldn’t have together, and the uncertainty of never knowing what the other one is thinking about. all i know is that you’re thinking about someone who’s not me, and all you know is that maybe you’ll never really know who i am and you’ll be fine all the same. it’s arduously painful to miss something so trite and pointless, but i still let it get inside my head every night just to keep me from sleeping, because i don’t even remember what i once thought about before all of this happened anymore. i used to be so cynically clever, both steps stuck to the ground with my bruised hands trapped between my knees. now i’m just another annoying cliche, just another forgotten epilogue in a hopelessly terrible book no one would stop to pick up and read. and only for you. god, only ever for you. because i don’t think my battered mind could still afford to miss anything more than this subtle madness. especially not the plasticine future i’m fully aware i could never truly have for myself.

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Filed under Prose

Temporary Weather

and i’ll catch up.

i’ll stumble out of this blackout, even if it takes more than a few scars and stars and more than a few yesteryears

falling apart and over and down and out and again but never giving in and saving the old lies for the worst parts of my life

left in the past not made to last

i used to believe in you but i don’t believe myself

but now maybe there’s a sliver of faith left over for the both of us to have, if you’re willing to share

you’re doing better now. you’re doing fine more than ever. though you know that stability won’t always mean permanent happiness, you’ve found your comfort in the cold

and the sun, little darling, is slowly warming up to you

and i’m happy for you. i really am.

with your pretty floral dreams, in technicolour. beyond the vale, no longer fit to be called mere dreams. sweet pastels. exquisitely tangible. mine still exist only at night

hiding beneath the darkest shadows and crashing through shut jagged windows and seeping deep like charcoal into my nervous system

and most nights, i can’t even sleep at all

but i’ll shut my tired eyes and make a wistful wish, i’ll keep my sleeves clean for the magic tricks, i’ll bare my levitating heart for the ones that i love, maybe they’ll be amused by it and raise their lips, maybe they’ll simply dismiss it and hate the cheap theatrics but

i’ll hope, still. and i’ll wait. and i’ll create. until nothing becomes something becomes everything becomes

infinities. a second of a lifetime. time. i have time.

and i’ll catch up.

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Filed under Prose

b.r.a.i.l.l.e.

i am with the wind.

and the exhilarating thrill

envelops every sense,

taking my aching bones,

my hour-old bruises,

my smiling chipped teeth,

my angry brown scabs,

and lulling them back to rest,

making the pain seem like

just another pastel dream.

everyone’s just a myriad blur,

a riot of ceaseless colours

all rushing past me as

wheels bite gravel and spins

me to a whole new revolution

of a different planet in a

different existence where all

those bad memories don’t exist,

only i, and the sweat and rain

soaking the angel wings on

my back; feeling gravity

and friction and momentum

and all those ethereal forces of

the universe ensconced between

my scuffed red sneakers.

it’s all tricks and treats,

and it doesn’t matter if i fall

and eat concrete a thousand times

trying to do the same thing over again;

it doesn’t matter if i go home

always with new holes all over my

favourite jeans and jumpers

every single damn time;

it doesn’t matter if i’m being

chased away by the people who

think it’s a vagrant’s crime…

because the past and future tense

doesn’t matter when freedom

is felt right here, right now,

with me and my ride,

and i am the wind.

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Filed under Poetry

I Don’t See It

Oh, I don’t forget every time you say
We’ll have the life that we pinned up on our wall
Can’t push the future back another day
‘Cause we been waiting for so long…

~*~

Give me a moment to burn

So I could learn to stay awake

If I had planets inside my lungs

I wouldn’t ever let them turn

.

And I’m making paper cranes

Out of magazines and yellow pages

Pushing back the future I thought

I’ve been building high for ages

.

The authenticity can grow tiring

And the static channels memerising

But I can only wait and wilt again

Feeling thorns wrap around my skin

.

So just show me what you meant

When the promise entered my brain

Like another bad syringe injection

But with a higher dose of pain

.

So I could stop burning dishonestly

For the sake of asking for bad company

If I had room for faith inside the sun

I’d keep it in the dark—that way, it’s more fun.

~*~

I’ll let you promise worlds to me
And you can take the lead, if you show me what you mean
We can build this life we dream of
I don’t wanna wait, making plans for yesterday…

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aim high, armstrong

cling to

your flimsy

clouds like

you wouldn’t

fall anyway—

and i’ll keep

my feet dancing

over the moon

and beyond

the stars.

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Filed under Poetry

Nervous Wreck

You’ve got a lot of nerve

At the tip of your tongue

When you were the one

Who made me feel sorry

I was still even breathing,

The one who made all my

Dreams feel secondhand

And just a cheap thrill drug,

The one who made it seem

Like underground reposing

Was the only option for you.

.

You’ve got a lot of nerve

On your mouth, and none

On the organ past your ribs—

But that’s alright, because I

Lost mine when you twisted

It into a noose and made my

Cold throat feel numbed-out.

That’s alright if you want to

Murder trust and then act like

You’re the fucking victim here

Just don’t drag me down again—

You could do that for yourself.

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violent self-deception

I’ve been crawling circles in my skin
Leaving trails to where I’ve been
I’m still following
I’ve been tying knots in my muscles
Grinding down all of my bones
I’m paper thin, paper thin…

~*~

arrest the cloying hope

like the blood in my mouth

clotting, bitter, deep red,

barely letting me breathe.

i can’t justify myself

and my repeating hypocrisy

but i want to leave it all

behind…even if that means

being consumed by my

own fool’s ideology

and suffer disappointment

over and over and over again

for the sake of a dream;

just another tragic cliche.

that’s why my secret

is still a secret, and why even

the most vicarious pleading

won’t force it out of me

because if cold laughter is

the answer to a pending question,

then what good will it do me

to add my ambition to

their comedic entertainment?

it’s the only thing i have

left to fucking fight for anymore…

it’s the only thing i have left.

no, i don’t want anything grand;

i just want to have a little faith

even if that means lying to myself.

~*~

Give me something to believe in
I’ll give you something to forget
Just give me something to believe in
I’ll give you something to forget…

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decisions, decisions

let me decide

what’s right

and what’s wrong

you do it so easily

but i won’t take long.

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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: feet

i don’t want

to walk endless

stretches of miles

for a destination

that doesn’t exist.

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Filed under Poetry