Tag Archives: girl

Schmetterling

I don’t wanna know where your heart goes
I don’t wanna die out of your throes
I don’t wanna know where the wind blows…

~*~

She was an exquisite butterfly

Her fragile and delicate wings

Shimmering in pastel colours

As it catches against sunshine

And I’m the withered daffodil

That she’s fluttered away from

After sucking all the sweetness

From my once-blooming bones.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Mister Doctor Man, How Much For An Autopsy?

I’m Mr. Doctor Man who questions his hands
Lost his mind, but clinically fine
But he found a way to cope, needle in his throat
Falling down, but the world is spinning round
And round, he knows…

~*~

Your arcane consonance is another memory in my eyes

Candelabras, needles, and shale skin is what’s left of me

Sabotaging the magnitude, time is but another simple lie

I’ll be the sick boy soldier patching up your indigo eternity

.

But don’t count me out like the silver glitter in your dress

I may be a fair firmament forecast, but you’re a bad omen

Perhaps your vignettes are perverse, and I’m lost in senses

Remnants of irrational contusions, in a masquerade pretend

.

My artful catastrophe is another remembrance in colder eyes

Chandeliers, syringes, and shallow flesh was what’s left of you

Serrated mutinous, time is but another complicated way to die

You’ll be the sad girl doctor breaking down my lavender infinity.

~*~

Honestly, it’s running through my veins
You see? I don’t need their surgeries
I just wanna breathe; they’re coming after me…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Does The City Sleep If Everyone’s Awake?

Drop every pretense, drown every sense you own
For the girl that you love, girl you loathe
Insistent pretext, so what does that make god?
To the girl that you love, girl you loathe…

~*~

Follow home the darkness in the midst of distorted lies

A bellicose pretence that overshadows the most jaded of eyes

Entering, surrendering the only control left to be held back

Indignant morose affability surreptitiously painted black

.

For the girl that you love left her heart in the shadows

She’s keeping it there locked tight and burning the evidence

And the boy of your dreams has a nightmare in his head

He keeps a musket under his pillow for such a circumstance

.

Secrets dripping at the tip of their tongue, are you getting tired

Ain’t it so pretty, the way their drunken minds are wired?

The curtain’s coming down, but the burlesque act continues

And the naked audience and all the masked actors are in on the ruse

.

The flickering streetlamps may not last until the end of sunset

And you may have lost your empty wallet stumbling in a cabaret

Taking profound philosophies from barkeeps, pouring another drink

Don’t know if that sleaze three tables over winked or just blinked

.

Follow home the oncoming intrusion of light in the haze of inebriation

An avaricious pretence that promptly overpowers any realistic temptation

Surrendering the only control that wasn’t there to hold back in the first place

Coruscating affiliations underhandedly leaving hearts without a single trace.

~*~

The girl that you love, girl that you love
Girl that you love knows you don’t
Followed her, followed her
Followed her, followed her home…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Miss Mercenary

You had me hooked, careless and cunning
You had your throne, but now you’re nothing
You had me hooked, careless and cunning
You had your throne, but now you’re nothing…

~*~

A maiden for the silken sheets

A muse for the midnight masquerade

Amorous amorphous on feather pillows

A demure bonny on the pasquinade

.

A madwoman for the asphalt streets

A machine for the telephone’s hold

Astounding magic and death-defying acts

Aspiration generation, metal heart so cold

.

A mistress for all your petty problems

A megalomaniac for your world to rule

Alleviate and apprehend momentum quick again

Apathetic monarchy for the masses to adore and endure

.

A miss murder for the mean memorial of the brothels

A monster for the messy and mercurial meltdown motels

Arrogant tease decadent, astringent, leading you on well

All before she shows her blackened eyes and drags you down to hell.

~*~

Fading like the makeup from my sheets
And I’m leaving, send the orders for retreat
I laid to rest this war that we called “love”
It’s for the best and what’s done is done…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

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?

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Rumours and Hearsay From Astronomy

“It wasn’t her who broke the stars.”

.

But she felt guilty all the same

As she stared at the dull midnight sky

Scattered with shards of light that hurt

In astral twinges and lunar fringes

When it hits her unblinking eyes

.

“It was him who fixed the horizon.”

.

But he didn’t feel responsible at all

He was merely there by coincidence

When it began to have mended itself

Coalescing into incandescent dawn

And yet he couldn’t say anything

.

“There’s this girl who locked the moon into the nebulae…

…and that boy painted the firmament rather ebulliently.”

.

Such mere rumours that the bored planets

Whispered clandestine amongst themselves

Altering details and chasing phantasmagoria

As the supernova truth shrank into a black hole

And sucked the boy and the girl in its dark void.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

she’s been waiting for the train with a bus ticket in her pocket.

She built a world with her own two hands
Well just give that a thought
And she don’t ever want to make no plans
‘Cause she don’t go outside no more…

~*~

she hasn’t had her medication yet

and she already fell in love with the relentless rain

they all told her she was a crazy pain

as she hung herself upside-down on the crooked rafters

searching for another heart to surrender

but she didn’t find any, no

as all the blood rushed inside her head

and turned her frail lips a deep red

she won’t kiss anyone with a mouth that dirty

until she wipes it off along with her glittering lipstick

and told her mama that she’s sorry

but that won’t be enough.

as of now, the train station is empty

and everyone has left in pursuit of a better life

but she’s still ripping threads off her timeworn dress

and reading profane graffiti out loud

and making her own in the chipped benches

waiting for a vehicle that never arrives

to take her into an unknown destination, for the bad and the better

rendered frozen as time moves on around her.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

How come no one heard her when she said—?

She doesn’t know she’s beautiful
‘Cause no one’s ever told her so
And the demons that she hides are all she knows
And maybe she can fall in love
With someone in her life that she could trust
And tell her she’s enough
(Will someone tell her she’s enough?)

~*~

How come no one

heard her when she

was screaming in her

bedroom at three in the

morning, scratching madly

at the pristine walls until

her fingernails broke and bled?

.

How come no one

heard her when she

was crying in a bathroom

stall, all the things they threw at

her leaving marks, and all

the ugly names they chanted at

her still ringing violently in her head?

.

How come no one

heard her when she

was slicing and hacking

away at her unhealing skin

so fucking audibly, and when

she slipped on that liquid

and fell with a thud, bruised and

bathed in puddles of dirty red?

.

How come no one

heard her when she

moaned as she rested fitfully

sleep paralysis taking full

control of every recourse

mouthing all the words

to the nightmares, those things

that she’s always left unsaid?

.

How come no one

heard her when she

vomited bile and empty air

kneeling faithlessly in front of the

porcelain god, sharp ribs poking

through her paper chest, even when

she ate nothing the whole day,

with herself she was still disgusted?

.

How come no one

heard her when she

was laughing, singing, and

talking by herself, and striking

up lengthy conversations with the

imaginary friends she made up

and the demons that she wed?

.

How come no one

heard her when she

asked relentlessly for help

begging and pleading, saying

that no doctor nor medicine

could ever cure her, and perhaps

an iota of support and care

for her was all she ever needed?

.

How come no one

heard her when she was already

being so earsplittingly loud

blind eyes and deaf ears

blaming nothing but the victim

“it was her fault” they say

“she should have said something”

but they all ignored her when

she actually piped up

keeping the regret to the very end—

and now she’s silent forever

and all her words went ahead…

tell me, how come no one

heard her until she was already dead?

~*~

Maybe I’m better off dead
If I was, would it finally be enough
To shut out all those voices in my head?
Maybe I’m better off dead, better off dead!
Did you hear a word, hear a word I said?
This is not where I belong
You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

The Drama Queens Called, They Want Their Bullshit Back

You can call me little Miss Piss with a kiss
And after all this the rest is all bullshit
And you love it, you love it
You love it, you love it…

~*~

Oh blah blah blah

You think you’re so special

Doing what thousands do

Glorified, you’re fucking mental

It’s satisfying, isn’t it?

When there’s no point to it

All you’re doing is being an attention whore

Doing it for the sake of bullshit

And I’m so very glad

That I handed you the keys

That would lock you in this transgression

And you didn’t say thanks or please

But it’s fine, it’s fine

I enjoy hearing your little chatter

When you’re crying out a fucking puddle

Then say you’re drowning underwater

So blah blah blah and etcetera

Good girl gone bad, oh, ain’t she just special?

But beneath all your overblown hysteria

You’re just another pitiful pathetic liar.

~*~

Say no to brains, it’s a no-brainer
Lowest common denominator
It pays the bills to be this sterile
Fuck me now, rip me off later
And you love it, you love it
After this the rest is all bullshit…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

lollies and laughter

sticky lollipops

turning his mouth purple

grinning as eight teeth

crunch against sugar enamel

.

sticky lollipops

turning her mouth pink

lips as treacly as candy

as toothless gums go clink

.

sticky lollipops

one for him, one for her

sharing flavours playfully

with babbles and a purr

.

sticky lollipops

all over the mat and toys

plastic wands waved about

dancing to nursery noise

.

sticky lollipops

of grapes and strawberries

but there ain’t a sweeter thing

than these two honeys with me.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry