Tag Archives: hate

Rumours on Red Tapes

I do not know why I would go
In front of you and hide my soul
‘Cause you’re the only one who knows it
Yeah, you’re the only one who knows it
And I will hide behind my pride
Don’t know why I think I could lie
‘Cause there’s a screen on my chest…

~*~

Call it a conversation, or another bad decision

Talk is cheap, but you’re costing me more than you’re worth

The casualties counted, words set to ignition

But I’ll salvage what I can and I’ll try to keep my insults curt

.

You’re searching for a purpose, I’m looking for a reason

Differences aside, you can’t stay clever if you’re wrong

Listen carefully now, don’t make me repeat myself twice

Because I don’t really want you to misunderstand my lies

.

Pay attention, this can’t go on, go find another friend to ruin

With your pitiful convictions—or better yet, simply stay alone

Sober is your middle name, but your vision keeps on spinning

Ignorance can’t be your bliss if all you ever do is mumble and groan

.

While I endure the problems, getting addicted to gnashing teeth

For there’s comfort in this car crash, fracturing every fucking bone

I held your hand like you asked, you went ahead and twisted my wrist

But you can’t complain forever, and I know that I should have known

.

That this is not a conversation, just another bad decision

You speak sweetly with silver linings—but fuck that, I need gold

Casualties buried now, falling out of spellbound sedation

But I’ll walk away while I still can, and you can choke on what you’re told.

~*~

We’re broken people, oh
I’m standing in front of you
I’m standing in front of you
I’m trying to be so cool
Everything together
Trying to be so cool…

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Fill The Void

Started with a little bit
Now I don’t know how to quit
Always feel inadequate
Same way that my daddy did
Mama told me not to try
And I should have taken her advice
And now I’m all twisted
When it’s all gone, I miss it…

~*~

I’ll delude myself with one more week

As if that would make any difference

Feel the rush of false accomplishment

Before the eleventh hour wears it off

.

Control drags furious scars down my limbs

Daring to tear past my cracked pretence

But I just want it to take me by the hand now

And lead me towards that pre-dug grave

.

For a minute of rest, I’ll shut myself

Close my lost eyes and simply throw it all away

The key, the lock, what I’ve worked for

That pointless persistence only fools dream of

.

When the spinning cycle makes me too dizzy

And my dragged footsteps are going nowhere

It’s much better off to be prepared for the worst

I apologise, it’s okay—I’ll be going home soon

.

Because this is always all the same, over and over

I’m tired of being tired, and I’m tired of being me

Distracting myself just so I could make it out alive

When I know there’s nothing left, so why should I be sorry?

~*~

I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Else that gets me through the day
Till I find another way
I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Even if I lose again, I can’t quit…

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(Don’t) Turn Back To Me

Somewhere along the way, I somehow convinced myself to play

The waiting game like it meant a thing, like I wouldn’t lose anyway

You were the part of my mind still clouded with nostalgia

But lately, it’s now been replaced with a nicotine-grey paranoia

.

Still, you kept me hanging on with all your hooked apologies

And dragged me on for miles despite having nothing but weak excuses

How foolish I truly was, I thought the violent bruises looked pretty

A vicious reminder of the time we spent—a fucked-up memento mori

.

But now I’m getting really tired of having to constantly check in

Obsessing over your absence, getting caught up in that empty nothing

Somehow, that’s the only thing you’re always consistent with

But the rest of this connection is a mess…was it all just friendly bullshit?

.

I understand that you’re busy, and I have no right to be hurt at all

But a sliver of conscience would have been nice, instead of the way you stall

I don’t even know why I’m still trying to paint myself as the bad guy

Spitting poison in my sharpened words in an attempt to catch your eye

.

But maybe it’s better off this way, and maybe I should stop pretending

That I’ll be worth a single damn to you, that I was ever even anything

I just wasted my breath when you never listened, we’ve done this all before

Though I guess this time, I just don’t have a place in your pretty plastic life anymore.

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Slaughterhouse Lust

Oh, how I crave to dare and distort

Flesh and curled veins embellish the hurt

Fingernails, friction, furled fire and ice

Horrors entombing, a mouthful of lies

.

Teethmarks left stale on shredded skin

A scarlet line stitch for scarlet-lured sins

Glinting dangerously close to livid steel tip

A throat once so sweet, now no longer sings

.

I am the intruder to your rationality

A romance without leisure nor apricity

I am ambrosia for the cunning and vulgar

Lock me in an embrace, I am built of barbed wires

.

You are the impostor with augmented pleas

Lethargic limerence, sometimes innocence kills

Fabricated humiliation left to the blowflies

Your hubris your downfall, your last breath a sigh

.

So crash and collide, a staccato of apologies

Left with the bullets, fired gunshot of notoriety

Puncture my lungs and just leave me to gasp

Amputate my useless limbs as you did to my useless heart

.

Oh, how I crave to deceive and disgrace

The enamel of my bones, your final resting place

You dine with the serpents, you rest with the wolves

Desecration was our only means to disguise the corrupted truth.

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I’m Not Mad, Just Going Mad

It’s a shame you can’t make out
That voice, the voice of hope
I could be wrong but he’s not worth it
But in his mind we are worthless
Don’t get me started
It breaks my heart and
I can tell that you are lying
With the way you’re saying…

~*~

It’s back to the same old bullshit routine again

You greet me with blood on your teeth and when

I gritted mine back into a smile without sin

You suddenly decided that you were the victim

.

Now I’m at a loss, my fingers are trembling

Don’t get me started on the way you broke it

I’m stuck in quicksand, so come pull me out then

Don’t just stand there, don’t just angrily weep

.

Because I did you dirty, I made you go crazy

There’s ice in my veins and the snowfall is filthy

“Hey, just checking in, how have you been?

Great? Oh well, that’s fine, but what about me?”

.

Finally, the silence shoots me dead in the eye

As we both lock our triggers and forcefully lie

Ignoring the demons screaming in our heads

Of “What happened? Why can’t you just bury the dead?”

.

So let’s staunch out the wounds and stitch up the ribbons

We can’t return the past, so let’s just return the weapons

So let’s just call it off now and call it off another year

Maybe next time around, you’ll forget that I was ever here.

~*~

Can you say liar? (It’s killing me)
Can you say liar? (And I believe)
This looks like murder
You bring out a livid side of me, I guess…
Can you say liar? (It’s killing me)
Can you say liar? (And I believe…)

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I’ve Got All This Blood On My Hands (And None In My Body)

Stay out of the light or the photograph that I gave you
You can say a prayer if you need to
Or just get in line and I’ll grieve you
Can I meet you, alone, another night and I’ll see you
Another night and I’ll be you
Some other way to continue, to hide my face…

~*~

I wanna turn your insides to white (say it ain’t so)

So it looks good on my bedroom walls (black, blonde, red)

My heart’s been bleached by the tidal waves (so wash me out)

I wonder if it had any colour at all (maybe not)

.

(So they say that the switchblade is better than the sense)

Well then, let’s see how you look in basketcase drag

(So they say that all this praying won’t make you a saint)

Well then, let’s see how you look when it goes bad

.

It’s not profound or romantic (it’s a mechanical interlude)

And I’m tired of (waiting for) all the infinite eulogies

(And they all put words in my mouth that) make me feel sick

Babe, I just wanted to sever a vein (but you made it plural)

.

(The incineration of another night, the gunshots rang clear

The townspeople screamed as a body fell out of a windowsill

Sirens wailed and ambulances crashed to the beat of my heart

Screaming “fucking save me!”, but it was all a nightmare thrill)

.

‘Cause Magdalene’s desecrated (and her scripture womb) now ain’t sacred

‘Cause all your best friends will only get together when somebody starts to die

‘Cause you can have your fucking funeral but still end up running late for it

(‘Cause you might) say grace all you want and still throw up (pure lies)

.

(Say it ain’t so) I wanna turn your insides inside out

(Black, blonde, red) And end up drunk on your bedroom walls

(So wash me out) My heart’s been drowned off by the tidal waves

(Maybe not) I wonder if it meant anything to you at all.

~*~

And we’ll all dance alone to the tune of your death
We’ll love again, we’ll laugh again
And it’s better off this way
And never again, and never again
They gave us two shots to the back of the head
And we’re all dead now…

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nocturnes, numbers, nyctophilia

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness—and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark. ~Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand

~*~

i.) the jealous penmanship

clever words left tears forming in my brain

ones that i have to open up my healing bruises

just so i could let them out somewhere

somewhere my veins wouldn’t be affected severely

(it was late at night, and my stars called out from nowhere)

sensations poured out from every letter and departure,

as it entangled itself with my nerves and wore them down,

and wore them like a dirty dress, and wore them out to town

until they were worn-out; nothing but a few stray threads.

i burned half of my journals when i turned 16 and stopped trying

to imitate being an author, because writing for me isn’t an expectation–

it’s nothing but another puzzling lock without a skeleton key

and because the most delicate daydream wasn’t mine

because selfishness, to me, is not just another bland adjective

because my bones screamed with the weight of a black hole

because your reveries were enchanting. and mine were f a d e d

n o , i ‘ l l  n e v e r  b e  a s  g o o d  a s  y o u

~*~

ii.) softness, like his heart in the shape of a newborn galaxy

i faded into an ugly shade of something that’s neither monochrome nor coloured;

on the verge of collapsing onto the other side of the fence, threatening madly

but never quite having the contemplation to choose a losing side

as i fell down into the blue of a stranger’s wanderlust eyes.

someone else had taken most of that vibrant shade already, but i managed

to steal away just a sliver, a glimpse, an infinitesimal shiver

and it was the kind of lasting cold that froze summer hurricanes

and kept my breaths visibly foggy and crisply sharp with every inhale

(you never warned me. you don’t know me, but you knew me too well. and i never listen.)

i’ll always be an insignificant detail in the cyan tapestry you painted for yourself

and i’ve accepted that long ago when i said i loved you in my nightmares,

tossing and turning on the bed covered in plastic arrogance because

no other blanket felt warm and comfortable enough for my body to sleep on

until then, i could only sink deeper into the fathomless wish that this universe would end s o o n

i t  w a s  a  k i n d  o f  l o v e  t h a t  m a d e  s u i c i d e  s o u n d  l i k e  m u s i c

~*~

iii.) an abrupt goodbye/the guilty party often disappears first

i was mad at something. i didn’t know what it was, but it was foolish enough

for me to take it out onto the embracing autumn sky, on the taciturn smiles that

were supposed to hold me when tempestuous desolation grabbed at my twisted throat…

and on you. you never meant anything. you just wanted to talk, and so did i,

but my tongue was a spilling box of blades, and every time i opened my

wounded mouth to make you laugh, i always ended up cutting you by accident instead.

(friend, even if i said i’m sorry, can you ever forgive me for what i’ve done to you?)

it was an unreasonable apology, and i erased myself because of my own self-hatred,

but not before leaving footprints of a migraine in your head, which you will inadvertently step on,

slip at, and hurt yourself…fuck. i don’t know why i’m like this. i don’t know why i have

to push and pull apart the only semblance of logic in my life, the only anchor

that keeps me from towing away from the tides, the last person that still feels real to me

when everything else has blurred into an amalgamated indistinct static background;

i don’t know why i feel so smothered, when you’re the only attention i’ll ever have and need.

at this point, the only thing we have is each other’s problems, and the way we both

jeered at it, taunted it, and blocked it out with our own shared playlists until we felt better—

but now that summer was just a distant memory, and so was the scarlet artwork we made of it.

you also needed comfort. but did even try? no. i ran away from the colliding wreckage

as if it wasn’t my fault, and i numbed myself out because i couldn’t do the same for y o u

i ‘ m  s o r r y  i  m a d e  y o u  s a y  s o r r y  s o  m u c h . . .

i  d i d n ‘ t  m e a n  t o  d e s t r o y  e v e r y t h i n g

~*~

iv.) the midnight closes. the violent curtain falls.

the cold glow of my computer screen was rude and restless

and it made my fingers promise, crossed and uncrossed, that i would

stay with it until it slips into comatose. i have rinsed my mouth with lukewarm water

a hundred times to try to wash out the taste of stale coffee, but it never came out and now

i’m stuck with it until morning, until another astrological moon cycle, until i lose

myself in the chemical moments of something that’s so artificially natural.

i’m constantly starving myself, stuck between confidence and relapsing withdrawals of

my past life that i thought i discarded when i finally held on to my shooting star,

but it was always tethered tightly to me by a crimson string. and it always probably will be.

i’m alone. i’m friends with people that talk shit to me in the mirror, and when i bite

my chapped lips and draw blood by accident, it almost feels like atonement. almost.

(i got what i came for and i can’t try again. this is what i want…..isn’t it?)

i know that there are people out there making fun of me and rolling their eyes

petulantly as they bask in the trite, whimsical “perfection” of their storybook existence

but not everything has a happy ending, and not every sad story has to end badly.

i don’t know. i’ll never know. i’m tired and i have responsibilities that i’m not

built for, and every crack turns into a break, and a break into shattered p i e c e s

t o m o r r o w  i ‘ l l  d o  t h i s  o v e r  a g a i n  .  u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  t o m o r r o w s .

~*~

v.) nocturnes.

( a n d  i ‘ l l  s t a y  h e r e )

u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  n u m b e r s  t o  c o u n t ,

a n d  t h o u g h t s  t o  f e e l ,

a n d  n i g h t s  t o  s t a y  a w a k e .

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Disembodied Silhouettes

My shadow no longer walks with me—

Not because there is no light to cast upon it,

But because it’s ashamed to take the very same path

My disgraced footsteps have left an imprint on

But could I blame my shadow for running away?

All it wants is a drop of tasteless medication

And I’m a lacklustre smile away from an overdose

Sitting here, under the ghostly orange of the streetlight

Watching the outline on the asphalt recede from me,

I count how many seconds it takes for me to get home

And pray under my breath that my shadow doesn’t follow.

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boy with the bullets (smith & wesson)

It’s not fair when you say that I didn’t try
I just don’t want to hear it anymore
I swear I never meant to let it die
I just don’t care about you anymore…

~*~

you’ve been nothing but good to me

and yet i treat you with feral viciousness

spitting sharp razors down your back

and taking a .45 to your bruised throat

like you deserved any of it at all,

but you don’t. if anything, i am the one

who needs to be put down, for all the

crimes i’ve committed against you,

for every inflicted pain and malicious insult,

for every tactless word that travels from

my mouth and straight to your lungs, making

you lose your breath’s momentum again;

for everything i did to you and everything i didn’t…

you deserve to pull the fucking t r i g g e r

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Domestic Park

Desk drawers

Fractured tibia

Stopwatch red

Dream febricula

Medicated blues

Hangover sober

Ready-set overdose

Insides uncovered

Busted-up mouth

Bloodied ceiling

Cracked linoleum

Window unhinging

Screaming children

Playground purple

Tempest tantrums

Drainage overfull

Halted arguments

Gossipy neigbours

“Do-not-cross” tape

Handcuffed endeavour

Guilt-ridden laughter

Covered up with tears

Madness manifesting

“I didn’t do it, dear.”

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