initials

dear middle name,

don’t leave me with goodbye

you know i don’t care

much for music for tired eyes

but will they cut me up

into all the tiniest smithereens?

and leave geraniums in

my hair like it’s my sweet sixteen?

.

dear middle name,

i’ll give mine up just for yours

and it’s a funny spelling

one too many c’s and z’s, true

but if we cut it all up and

paste it into something stranger

i’ll leave geraniums in your

lips like we’re still giddy teenagers.

arts and crafts

paste a

paper moon

over my

windows

and tell me

that it’s real

and i will

give you some

glittery stars

to sprinkle

and tell you

what i feel.

What’s Wrong?

It’s all overgrown but you’ll never know
Take the mirror from the wall so I can’t see myself at all
Don’t wanna see another damn inch of my skull
Forget the poems of saints and ghosts, I’m the one I fear the most
Little did I know that I was only crying wolf…

~*~

Lied faceless identities and lost nameless bones

Broken mirrors romancing with concrete stones

Low voices muttering in the middle of the night

Back against the wall, turned under black lights

Standing in the midst of destruction that rebirths

Sacrificing sanctity for the sake of scars to revert

.

I will be what’s wrong with the world.

.

A hundred metaphors deleted in boldface type

Swearing for the shadows, cursing lack of spite

For no one envisions a future with personal ties

Because tongues can only soar out when they lie

An arsenal of armory, walls built to keep them out

Convinced by the paranoia and mitigated by doubt

.

I will be what’s wrong with the world.

.

So call out the name that’s censored in every news station

Immortalised only in faded graffiti and youthful separation

So seek on and find now what can only be seen by the blind

To a place where wrong is right, and the heart beats the mind

I won’t be the marching guide, the black parade you’ll follow

But in a reality of common opposites and moral contradictions, I know

.

I am what’s wrong with the world.

~*~

No I never sold my soul, no I never sold mine
I know it’s so wrong but I’m so far gone
Don’t need you to tell me I’m so cynical
Quit being so over-skeptical
Don’t need a metaphor for you to know I’m miserable…

silent summers and wasted memories

They used to be the rivers
That would take us away
But now you only call me
Every Christmas and my birthday…

~*~

diving into

liquid reveries

and searching for

lost words

i could never

set past my

grievous tongue

in endless

nights of misadventure

and chicanery

rife with fondness

and hyperbole

and playful kicks

jovial as it hits

our wayside brains

though never

directly spoken

we were speaking

in a language

that only we

could decipher

leaving the rest of

the world to wonder

what amuses our

strange souls so

little did they know

we were laughing

at them all along

for they could

never understand

how these broken gears

spin and stutter

and how we turn such

mechanical gnashes

into a symphony

listening to each other’s

lilting cacophonies

until sunset hits

our bloodshot eyes

bidding us its goodnight

and i yearn for those

pastel-shade days…

of glib tongues

talking about stuff

and sheer nonsense

and insensibility

and rancid relativity

and bouts of sovereignty

in blue screen deaths

and sleep infidelity

now a distant polaroid

fettered in grey

and fragmented by time

a memory daze—

i break the surface of

my reminiscing

almost forgetting to

catch my breath

and write the words

i remembered to think

but never said aloud

hoping someone could

still hear the wind…

it was a delicate summer

and yet, rather wasted

on dead air and empty silence

that much, i know

that much, i could see

and that much, i wonder

i wonder if you knew

and i’m rather curious

why are we wasting

time again?

2 × 2 = Death

two times two

makes four

does no harm

but two times two

makes five

has its charm.

Baby, You’re Dead to Me

Hip hip hooray for me, you talk to me
But would you kill me in my sleep?
Lay still like the dead from the razor to the rosary
We could lose ourselves and paint these walls in pitchfork red…

~*~

My heart is fucking crippled

And you stole my crutches

Leaving me to limp my way

Back into the house you burned

.

My soul is fucking injected

With a dose of my own medicine

Leaving me defying a lost god

As hell waits patiently for my turn

.

My body is fucking corrupted

It must be all the nails I devoured

Leaving my blood to wither

As your vampire kiss claims earn

.

My mind is fucking profane with butane

And your words intensified the taste

Leaving me revoltingly desiring for more

As you scattered the ashes in my urn.

~*~

I will avenge my ghost with every breath I take
I’m coming back from the dead
And I’ll take you home with me
I’m taking back the life you stole…

The Devil On The Horizon

Are you sick, are you tired, and you’re feeling vain?
Your lips are turning blue
I know you wish you were dead to the world
But there’s something you should know…

~*~

A scream that cuts like the edge of a pensive

Bullets and serpents caught between your teeth

Gritting and gnashing until the pieces shatter

Drown demons under gasoline and burning water

.

You swore there was a heaven, and you let us keep it

You swore there was a hell, but you have kept it secret

Living in this filthy world of hospitals and deathbeds

Singing a little fucking louder to keep from being dead

.

Take us through woodworks, past wolves and putrid decay

Flowers for Medusa, I’ll go tell Slater in the bathroom door

Heal the hurting with rusty needles to sew the pain in half

Within a canvas of dark ink, true maven artwork soul falls

.

Trapped under circle pits, dragged under entrancing spells

We’ll join the club of antivists, our middle fingers up there

This liberation against possession, anarchists for catharsis

What’s yours is ours, and all this hatred could go get pissed

.

The jaded beep of the tiring monitor may never feel your heart

But this mind feels each beat of your raging pulse steadily restart

Sempiternal like the horizon, and you’d better fucking believe it

You’ll scream for the damned and the broken, yeah, that’s the spirit.

~*~

You’re scared, I can see you tremble
Shaking like a dog, shitting razor blades
Feel the shadows like a stranger
Well, join the club, yeah, join the club
Do you think you’re the only one who feels the way you do?
We’re all fifty shades of fucked up…

narcolepsy

how can one

go to sleep

if they were

never truly

a w a k e ?

clueless

i’m naive in

such an aspect

i try to show

concern, but

maybe i’m just

being suffocating

i want to know

what’s wrong,

but maybe you

just need to be alone

to sort these things

out on your own.

lungs burned in liquor

Like a rush shot through you
Everyone is watching you…
Told you why I see no need for the sun
(I’ve found a reason to say)
A love you light is a love soon gone…

~*~

a rush of blood

under falling skin

serenade confessions

kissing chlorine

gift shop grenades

vertigo weaving clarity

mirror wounds

bleed out my vanity

so tell me again

my heartless lover

lips of rose and needles

an ornamented endeavour

feathers stir past the sea

cloudy sulphur halos

candle-lit reveries

drowned in pools shallow

perhaps this world is

better off without

a trace of vertical stripes

incarcerating doubts

flags of pure surrender

scarlet against satin

i’m dissecting dead stars

a lost name set in latin

my platinum eyes

scratched the vinyl record

sentimental titanium

wrapped in unravelled cords

a rush of oxygen

under decaying lungs

a promenade desperation

touching gasoline.

~*~

If this is it
Don’t bother ’cause this love is a lie
I’m a chemical kid
You’re a mechanical bride…