Tag Archives: heart

sleep-talk

the break

in your voice

is like a

heart attack

i can’t

fathom why

but it

woke me up.

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Starshot Eros

you struck

an arrow

inside my

chest and

my ribcage

gouging deep…

but consequently,

you missed

my heart

and instead

killed off

the monster

that resided within.

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Throwing Cheap Bouquets by Juliet’s Balcony Stage

Please won’t you push me for the last time
Let’s scream until there’s nothing left
So sick of playing, I don’t want to anymore!
The thought of you’s no fucking fun
You want a martyr, I’ll be one
Because enough’s enough, we’re done!

~*~

Abandoned brains dripping on the cold spiral staircase

My crumpled train station tickets wiped them all away

The nights were as sober as 5 AM Jack on the rocks

Reset reverse repose and smash a hammer on the clock

.

You’re like a spoke in my heart, like nails through my teeth

Let’s slow down the sound of pain, ’cause you taste so sweet

I’m like the chlorine in your skin, like the poison in your cure

Maybe I’ll inject the moonshine once again just to be sure

.

You’ll never see my face in the movies as you always should

But babe it’s tough to dwell on the surface of Hollywood

Endgame of a bloodless artery, and I’m the rebel subsidiary

I’m the heart attack in your nightmares until you wake me

.

Am I confusing? Or complex? Am I the nuclear home you wrecked?

Are you the cannonball that hurtled past and broke clean my neck?

Breaths frosting over glass like a harsh blizzard in the winter

If I’m the martyr dying on a cross, then maybe you’re the sinner

.

You mixed suicide in my bloody scotch and you left me to rot

If I’m jumping off the bridge, then you’re my second thoughts

You’re the puppy crush love and I’m the old dog you put down

You hanged me by my collar in the gallows with a silent frown

.

We were screaming at each other in the most perfect harmony

If you were crying or laughing at the end of the line, I can’t see

You dosed my soul with whiskey and you sang a metal lullaby

And when I passed out from the hate, you crept out, no goodbye

.

So listen, wake the fuck up! Who the hell are you to die on me?

If you’re searching for some peace eternal, then I guess I’m sorry

I wrote your name on my mutated wrists with a blunt safety pin

And the scars on my lips won’t fade away anytime soon, darling

.

So don’t you go away now! Who the fuck are you to fall apart on me?

The razor blades in my throat won’t be swallowed with your fake sorry

This turbulent liquid passion made us crash on the tides and capsize

But if there’s a heaven waiting baby, then it won’t have a place for your lies—!

~*~

You told me think about it, well I did
And I don’t wanna feel a thing anymore
I’m tired of begging for the things that I want
I’m over sleeping like a dog on the floor
Imagine living like a king someday
A single night without a ghost in the walls
We are the shadows screaming take us now
We’d rather die than live to rest on the ground!
Shit.

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The Break-in

The bandit

Sneaks within

Your heart,

Steals everything

That’s yours

And all you love,

Leaves your

Soul in a

Ransacked

Chaos,

And worst of all,

He lets you

Live.

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Cosmic Band-Aids

The coalescing Seattle twilight was an interplaying illusion of dusk and haze, warm colours replacing the pastel skylines, only to be painted over by the deep indigo eventide. The local rustic town café was already closing up, and they barely had time to finish the last bites of their chocolate bonbons and sip the remaining drops of their hazelnut vanilla frappé, before the intermittent barista ushered them out—quite literally, with a tremulous hand and an apologetic jilted demeanour. Now they stood outside the establishment in introspective reverie, dimmed bronze sodium streetlight the only solitary light source that resiliently pierced through the caliginous melancholy.

She was a blushing rose, liquid and pale, every infinitesimal detail somehow magnified to be remarkably interesting. Fragrance of baby’s breath and frankincense, posture of a regal and sophisticated monarch, delicate face as that of an angel’s glimpse of paradise, personality of an intricate vintage lock and a million exploding suns. Her companion, admittedly, was a person of less enigma, yet was still a character of significance, an oakwood branch, roughly-hewn and intense, simple yet charismatic. That svelte and cheeky-looking fellow had untidy coffee-tint hair, a discursive ironic smirk, an insouciant slouch, and a steely glint that, more often than not, signalled trouble.

As the fog and the regent shadows further intensified, the pauses and discomfited silence between them further attenuated. Moments passed. Her candyfloss-pink sundress fluttered like a jaded butterfly as she tucked a frayed bookmark behind her seashell ear, and her taciturn companion watched her intently, like an engrossed pawnbroker. Without permission, he began to remove his worn tan overcoat and gingerly placed the article over her cool shoulders, still warm and cosy by his own body heat. Flustered by the uncalled attention, she turned away to brush a stray raven hair back into her gossamer tufted bun, and lost grip of her book of poems, fragile pages yellowed and dogeared with age. Sylvia Plath’s ancient anthology dropped with a soft thump right side up, opening uncannily on the centre page containing Mad Girl’s Love Song, and both bent down and fumbled clumsily to pick it up in haste.

Fingers tangled. Glances exchanged. Blue eyes collided with green. Hands clenched. Throats choked. Hearts skipped. Breaths hitched. Souls shattered. Their blueberry-strawberry swirl ice cream melted absently like calligraphy on the pavement. The book now lay abandoned and forgotten, its unspoken poetry dancing alongside the breeze. No words were whispered. None were necessary. Overhead, the last of the brimstone shades faded away, and incandescent stars splashed the darkness of the falling sky. Below, firework eyes showered sparks, and skins intertwined. Witnessing it all, hiding behind the wisps of pewter clouds and overlooking the nocturnal planet, the glowing moon quaintly smiled.

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electric lungs

your voice

sends goosebumps

raising up

all over my heart.

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Oblivion in Alluvion

Carry on and write a song that says it all
And shows it off before you die
Take a little breath before you catch an
Early death, there is so much sky…

~*~

standing out

in the rain

where i could stay

for hours

my heartbeat, it

slows to a lull

and my

hands lose

their tremble.

i meditate;

eyes closed,

tasting petrichor,

hearing the

grumbling thunder,

fingers drawn to

skyward bloom,

drowned in

reveries…

as i feel the

rivulets

of heavenly tears

cascade

down my

fingertips and

torrents

dripping down

my peaceful visage

and water

kissing my skin

ever gently.

lost in a cool

daydream,

a blank slate

of pondering inside

my tranquil mind,

rife with

contentment

and solipsistic

notions,

knowing that

warm soup

and hot coffee

and a tea cosy is

waiting for me home

even though

at that moment,

i was already there.

as the rain

slows leisurely

to a languid cease,

i gaze at the

atmosphere

and bade the

fugacious weather

goodbye—

although i’m

tinged with a sense

of melancholy,

for with my

aqueous companion,

mine empty soul

has never been

quite more

fulfilled, more

purposeful and

alive.

~*~

Hey, you’re fine
I wanna listen to the radio
Driving down Calexico highway
And now I know the signs for sure…

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messages over mugs of coffee

why do i drown

in coffee cups

every time

i sense your

presence?

and what is

it with you

that makes

my clarity an

omniscience?

why does my

heart leap

like a gymnast

every time i

read each letter?

and why, oh

why do i know

it’s not the

coffee’s fault

that i feel better?

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Winter Heart

summer kites

they danced

on the sunny sky

as the heat

escaped outside

with a sigh

colours splatter

against the

pale cool blue

the sunlight

resonated

its diadem hues

the vista

distorted with

heat waves

and sticky sweat

trickled down

warm naves

as sweet sodas

were passed

right on cue

to help endure

the highest noons

in construe

the weather was

as tepid as

we were told

and yet

i still wonder

why i feel so cold.

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Tissue Sketches #1: bullet holes over san francisco

Oh, cross my heart and hope to die

And for you I’ll steal the sunset sky

I wondered why on skipping stones

I’d love to unravel your corset bones

Blueberries’ kisses, as blue as the sea

So sing acoustics music softer for me

We’ll end the night with cookie cakes

And a strawberry daiquiri by the lake.

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