Tag Archives: hell

selling out

“hell to pay”

is a threat

to you, but it’s

not for me

.

it’s just

another debt

to take, another

lesson to keep.

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black mold

the clock strikes five, and then there was one.

bathroom floor. feels cold. unnaturally perfect. comforting. alone.

fingers pointing to every tile—faded pink against mouldy lavender

grimly counting the grimy walls peddling for some peace of mind

mindless indulgence, please don’t run out, pleaseplease…but it does

148 tiles. not mine. five sleeping bodies outside, blissfully unaware

five dreams i struggle not to rudely wake up with my silent screams

one. one face. hounding the very verge of my panicked wiles

melting me into an incomprehensible mess. maddening, blaming

the perpetrator of the crime. blue. perfect blue. haunting blue

angel blue with cumulous hair, have you ever seen golden clouds

before? sweet and dimpled, stifle back a sour laugh, i’m falling before

i realise that i can’t fly, oh shit oh god, i can’t fucking fly—!

pulled back. 148 tiles. small cube. no sky. hell below. my shivering hands

prayer. tired kind of mantra, no don’t want this anymore, please i

just want to be okay, please i just want it all to stop stop stop stoppp

numb but hurt, reduced to fine shreds on 28 of the 148 dirty tiles

five unconscious bodies, enviously euphorically ignorant, another storm

but not from outside, it’s too chilly for that, my eyes blur as they fog over but

better than sorry little pissbaby tears trickling, i have to face this now anyway

there’s no proper decorum for dismantled fools like me. only life. only life.

light flickers shut. 148 tiles hide beneath the shadows. five bodies toss fitfully. one.

the clock strikes six, and then there were none.

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Catastrophic Demarcation

Go wreck the clean air for me

And replant some darker green

The kind that runs the world

The one you sought to destroy

With cigarette spewing factories

And cold corporate handshakes

And mass hysteria ignorance

.

Go and poison my faucet drip

With more than bitter chlorination

And occasional sediments of rust

The kind that snakes highly-resistant

Prions right into my better sense

And chokes away all my optic nerves

Into the brink of utter blindness

.

Let me taste all our past and future mistakes

And pay for humanity’s most heinous crimes

For we all deserve imminent hell, don’t we now?

The kind that boils civilisation down to ashes

And piles up bleached bones for the scavengers

Cause if you heed requests from dying machines

Their toxic wasteland will be all that’s left of us.

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Minor Extraction

Darling, you punch in my throat

Like the neon drinks I just knocked back

But it didn’t give me half a buzz

In the way your lilting voice left me apart

You’re my lucky 11:11, if I didn’t

Wish out just a couple minutes too solemn

And let your photos do the talking

Silent as I was, pounding beat of the sirens

Mouthing lips into avalanche, and

Another crimson tidal wave just left to decay

I swear I wouldn’t do this again, but

Here I am, losing my sense to your sympathy

But applebee, you’re my only buzz

When all the bitter brews fail at their only job

And I would give hell to the blood

In my brain for another chance at this brittle love.

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Butcher With The Bad Blood

He will remain a walking corpse
His legs will move forward
Addictions itch at his throat
But only to crave more of the blood
He seeks, the man only thirsts…

~*~

Rapid-fire anger management and profanities screaming

You hold your own shredded throat by the unlocked trigger

And clutch tight, like the desperate straws you’re grasping

Beating dead, fucked over by your own sovereign banter

.

Relinquish the power, decorated in track marks and golden medals

But it could only last so long before synthetic monuments crumble

And you find your own damned children splattered all over the walls

Covered in a rain of glass and guilt, begging for some salvation to call

.

Viciously, all the bloated carnage starts reeling away from your reality

Disrupted by the way your faked defensive cries are still failing humanity

No empathy could ever understand the infection burning out your brain

You started with blind rage and opened up hell, but only mangled eyes remain.

~*~

Buried, his tomb will breathe
His hands will rise
From his shallow grave
Begging only for sleep
Dear father, I’ll be waiting
Saved you a seat in hell…

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The Cadaver’s Requiem

the abyss is your wornout teeth

creaking and gnashing at four in

the morning—deathly eves whisper

in alluringly sweeter nevermores

as your mind draws a point blank

chalky and arid, the rewind is set to

fit the blame and delirium quite sure...

lights dragging the diabolical taste

of cancer and firelight away to hell

as it burns for the hearts of infidels

though carry not the cursed hurt nor

wretched inferno that only means to

submerge its sharp, bleeding claws

deep down into your tender sternum

to slowly pick your entrails apart as it

would a grand and delectable banquet;

cerise mucilage trickles in between the

crook of your damned eternal frown,

moulding your seething madness into

a scream of inscrutable evisceration.

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Monstrous Things

I built the foundations of my flesh

On relapses and fake fiction

A nightmare dressed in scarlet letters

Drag me out in recanted desperation

.

I cut my teeth on reincarnation—

To live, to die, to leave again

.

Existing is as bitterly blistering as the arsenic

Threaded through my veins, replacing

Control, slowly decaying bones and plastic

.

I pretend that hope’s not mere optimistic ignorance

And swerve before the collision hits my ribs

And failure decides to forge placid smiles

Of jaded reassurances and arrogant bliss

Here’s the nerve to tell me how I should feel…

.

I shouldn’t, should I? It’s all the same

If so, then tell me I’m wrong; undaunted and

Abrasive—ignite me with purest prosopagnosia

.

As schizophrenic choirs no longer chant askance

Neither I, nor you, never this hell above

.

It’s all pointless, nothing but viscid dromomania

.

I built myself on silken stagnancy,

Desiring beyond the pale, euphonic amnesia

And torn down with macabre allegories—

Are you be ashamed to be one of the monstrous things?

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L’exquise L’angoisse

Palpitating arteries eviscerate, a familiar taste that tastes like nothing

Frustrated art under his eyelids fading, clever words I’m never caught saying

Lost impressions leave deceptions, a tempestuous flood caught in the fray

Wish my headspace wasn’t suffocating the sun day after another day

.

Imagination stuttering, slowly dying, what are you trying to hide?

If hell’s your new phenomenon, I’m afraid it’s far too late to be described

Every broken bone that the restless audience throws back to your act

Refusing to feel right again, this time I know that I don’t know where to start

.

Don’t look at me. Don’t look at my deathwish. Nor my blinded existence.

I do not wish to breathe the same way you do. Do not bleed out of my presence.

My words are glass blades lodged under my bruised throat, so do not dare me to cough

The eclipse feels impossibly heavier without your weight to hold me down

And so I quietly submerge with only the sound of my empty thoughts.

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You’re All Phases And Dark Sides Like The Moon, But You’re Not As Bright (I Would Turn This Into An Extended Play But My Band Hates Me, I Have Mediocre Musical Talent, And No Record Label To Beg)



Phase One: I Don’t Know About You But I’m Ready To Move To San Diego(‘s Disneyland© Theme Park and Resort)

[EXTRACT: WE DO IT IN THE DARK WITH SMILES ON OUR FACES
WE’RE DROPPED AND WELL-CONCEALED IN SECRET PLACES
W E  D O N ‘ T  F I G H T  F A I R]

To all the divorcees in the dancefloor

Singing songs for poor dumped hearts

Won’t you come and take a million pictures

Of my latest 100 billboard-hit chart?

I’m not famous, but I’m on your magazine

Load up the ammunition baby, take it in

The articles say that I’ll save your life

But all I’ll do is steal your brain-bored wife

So I don’t give a shit about your ideal weekends

But buy my merch, I’ll be your best friend

And don’t pretend you’ll just forget about me

When I’m bitching about how everything’s a travesty…



Phase Two: She’s Got A 10 PM Audition Starring At The Back of A Costco Store

[EXTRACT: I’LL KEEP YOU WARM AND WON’T ASK WHERE YOU’VE BEEN
WITH YOUR BACKLESS BACK DRESS SOAKED TO THE SKIN
W H E N  A L L ‘ S  S A I D  A N D  D O N E  T H E Y ‘ R E  S C R A M B L I N G]

West coast smokers choking to death

And a trashy nosebleed is good for the health

Kiss it hard in the back alley like a desperate man

Blow out your sixteen candles with a gun

(and paint the town an ugly shade of party-red)

.

You’re all grown up and ready to waste a week

Looking for a dive bar to drown shots cheap

But the boys never liked you, Mr. Barman

Now won’t you sleep this out again with no one?

(the insults are only as bad as good guys get)

.

I swear I won’t swear, my mouth is clean

I go to church on Sundays and I’m never mean

I swear I won’t swear, I know that it’s all true

Your secrets are all worthless but at least I’ve got you—

(completely wrapped around my finger)



Phase Three: Warm Sympathy Is Just Cold Sarcasm For Wimps

[EXTRACT: I KNOW YOU’VE HEARD ALL THIS BEFORE
LET’S HEAR IT FOR AMERICA’S SWEETHEARTS
I  M U S T  C O N F E S S ,  I ‘ M  I N  L O V E  W I T H  M Y  O W N  S I N S]

I don’t love you at all but I love your therapy

You talk like you’re going deaf, so won’t you lie to me?

.

If it’s not about comforting then I wouldn’t even care

You look even messier today, did you do something with your hair?

.

I said I’d write a million poems about you but I got carpal tunnel

Just like how you said you’d give me a taste of first-class hell

.

We both smiled like a girl’s best friends, only it’s all fake

And we didn’t believe we could mine such coal-black mistakes

.

I don’t love you at all but you scare the devil out of me

But I wouldn’t call you an angel, don’t you just love my honesty?



Phase Four: Children’s Nursery Rhymes Are Really Letting Themselves Go These Days

[EXTRACT: MY SONGS KNOW
WHAT YOU DID IN THE D A R K
S O  L I G H T  ‘ E M  U P]

I ‘ l l  S T U M P  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S T U M P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  w i t h  i d i o t ’ s  s y n c r a s i e s

I ’ l l  s T u M p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S t U m P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  i f  y o u ’ l l  a s k  m e  t o  b e

I ’ l l  s t u m p  y o u ,  u o y  p m u t s  l l ‘ I

M y  n a m e ’ s  n o t  P a t r i c k  b u t  b a b e ,  I ’ m  a  s t a r

B u t  i f  y o u  t h i n k  t h a t  t h i s  j o k e ’ s  g o i n g  t o o  f a r

T h e n  I ’ l l  d u m p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  D U M P  y o u .



Phase Five: If My Brain Could Actually Think For Itself, What Would It Say?

[EXTRACT: IF I COULD GET MY SHIT TOGETHER
I WANNA RUN AWAY AND NEVER SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN
N E V E R  S E E  A N Y  O F  Y O U  A G A I N]

I’m

                    too

fucking

                             tired

           for

                                               all

       this

                                                                 bullshit.

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Circus Of The Unseen

“The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not. The black sign, painted in white letters that hangs upon the gate, reads: Opens at Nightfall. Closes at dawn.” ~The Night Circus; Erin Morgernstern

~*~

worms through a corpse

chill wind past the silence

borne of blood and bones

cold distorted innocence

.

of faded starlight, heaven above

inferno below, hell hath no love

scarlet disenchantment perilous

lavender everglade, clement recluse

.

gabardine stained, crosses blue

concatenated catacomb, retaliate

viscera neglected, exhume anew

quinidine necrosis still separate

.

febrile fever, pray for saints

tortured nightmares desecrate

astern deliria, cataleptic taint

cradle unbeating hearts in fate

.

essences of alluded calamities

incensed wraiths roam auguries

oculists resurrect mortal citadels

as nondescript massacres dwell

.

shadows unseen, a circus of assailants

creed of asylum undulating sycophants

dim realms long perished to divination

leaving only churchyards in conflagration.

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