Tag Archives: im ded

Let’s Cheers To This

I’m losing control, my head is alright
I can’t shake the thought of me losing my mind
Been away for three days, won’t sleep ’til I’ve done
All it is I’m living for, now I will show you…

~*~

I’m already running out of faux words to say

So my blue blood just does all the talking

I wish the answering machines would shut up

When I’m in my bedroom, locked, blind, menacing

.

The pain sticks around for another retreat

Dousing me in concussions and nitroglycerine

I’ll be the expired month-old medication

That’s still ingested out of pure desperation

.

Patches of red scabs and frayed purple veins

A razor to the throat, daydreams that will remain

Ashes on my fingertips, but I’m not sorry

For the burning under my skin still scares me

.

I can’t go back now, for my lies melt and shiver

I’m left to degrade, my suns left to wither

Compensating for the dangerous sensations

I pulled the trigger on my character assassination

.

Perhaps soon after never the cuts will heal in jagged scratches

Carved in my backbone, my skull worn-out with deep scalpel notches

Nevermind that reality’s expendability is not a viable option

Let’s say our prayers and cheers to this, I’ll swallow without tasting my poison.

~*~

Your soul is down, I‘ll break the dawn
I took the stage, and now we’re
Taking back tonight, I made up my mind
This is my life.

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Filed under Poetry

Go On and Give the World a Show

1.) Your mind is boiling bleeding bending screaming and that motherfucker is doing nothing but saving your watercolour tears in a crystalline vial and using it to paint your evocative portrait in his dollar store canvas.

2.) Your heart is cursing complaining coronary sedating and those bastards are doing nothing but taking your severed arteries for the next transplant performance to entertain surgeons, scaramouches, and curious sickos.

3.) Your soul is pulsing pirouetting paralysing sacrificing and this asshole is doing nothing but pasting your flattened cardboard spine into an unused oak guitar and singing hypocritically about his next hit tragedy.

4.) You are woeful whimsical winning simply synesthetic and the critics did nothing but make you infamous and indomitable as you rose against their vehement volatile tidal waves and triumphantly held your billowing flag on the blue moon.

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Filed under Prose