if the pain
is a sound
it will be
to my ears.
if the pain
is a sound
it will be
to my ears.
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!
DON’T RUIN A PERFECT THING
Counted on the blue moon
I’d leap across Atlantic
But darling, that’s too soon.
JUMP IN THE FIRE (IF IT BURNS YOU)
Spitting flames in the dark
They thought it would play
Yet those puissant sparks
Kissed back the waterway.
TRUE LOVE COMES FROM MORE THAN JUST THE HEART
A tactile tongue on necklaces
Illumined on equivocal jewels
Red rose by your grave traces
I shall return the favour in hell.
A KISS LIKE A FIRE ON PAVEMENT
Loathing has that succinct taste
Of compound ammonia valerate
You seem to love this acidic lick
Burning holes in your bloody lips.
A HAMMER THROUGH MY TEETH
I’m onerous, am I not?
A talented conniving old miser
I’m adroit, am I not?
A charming multifaceted lover.
Journeys on your ebony car
Energy of a million fair stars
Neverland awaits Peter Pan
Spirited Texas boy, have fun
Ebullient in bowlegged steps
Nexus of freckled smiley lips
Aspirations, within you it lies
Cherry soul and emerald eyes
Kindness of vivace perception
Love of life, ardent inspirations
Ever young at heart, Texas boy
Sage as you bring hope and joy.
When my lines are empty
Scribbled with nil galaxy
Stolen negative energies
I reach to the sky, simply
Catch the shooting stars
Falling from your eyelids
Phosphoresce filling the
Cavities, of mine decrepit
Inkstained quills; and the
Glowing words resonating
Occupy parchment lacuna
Which I bled from my fate,
From your diamond tears
That you softly rain away
For me, illuming my fears
As planets begin a’ dancing
You convalesce, smile away
Reposing on clouds of icing
On a soporific midnight play.
I sit taciturn and wondering, waiting for the universe
to take my shaking hand into her further infinity.
I see the connected constellations, ostentatious
as they are, splashes and arcs of light tessellating
into the galaxy’s tender motion and sleepy staccato,
Falling fast within this midnight sky so consummate.
Now I won’t admit into being also consummate,
Not in the physique of this elegant universe.
My body is made of mere stardust staccato
ravelling tightly into a quite beautiful infinity.
Yet I shall admit defeat unto death, tessellating
into a parasitic decay non so ostentatious.
We all wish to enter the gates of Heaven, ostentatious
as humans get. We are quite passionate and consummate
with our concepts arranged into a stained-glass tessellation,
Ignoring still the vast reaches withheld in the universe
and thinking that this small orbit of ours is all that’s infinity,
Earning us a mindset of broken glass and fragmented staccato.
Truly, our planet is a zealous one, of cobalt and viridian tessellation,
Pieced together, and yet barely holding on, our divinity ostentatious.
Our sea levels and stretched firmament seem to reach infinity
up to our all-knowing Mother, her opalescent gown consummate,
But then again, she is just another dress in this party of the universe
Her descrying jade heart pulsating and flatlining into faintest staccato.
And materialistic, we resolutely remain, technology tessellating,
Preaching with arguing high voices, radioing into noisy black staccato.
Pray must we, for help. Ask forgiveness to the spinning universe
for we have been too indulged getting severely pompously ostentatious.
And soon, no longer will she ever care, for she is a goddess consummate
with her rarities. A powerful chromatic angel donning white wings of infinity.
We drown all our self-abnegation in a shallow turbid pool of falsified infinity,
But look up to the astral skies, you fools, and see the stars’ bright tessellation!
We can nevermore achieve the paramount gracefulness of being consummate,
for we are mere scintilla specks floating in space. Barely even a borrowed staccato
that’s vainglorious, ruffling our colourful feathers. Now cease ostentation,
Breathe in the sun…do you feel that slightest twinge of cosmic angst from the universe?
I whisper but echoing souls, cut into philosophical tessellation, and cast into evaporation. I might as well be speaking staccato,
but the patient universe hears my every cry, and gifts me some of her onyx satin habiliment. I accept humbly, non ostentatiously
so I see clearly finally. Wherefore must we humans be so dragged into consummate? This life is not a question of perfection, but rather, what we choose to do with our own infinity.∞
Not knowing what to say
And being at a loss for words
Leaving your mouth hanging open
At a time when you needed your voice the most
All your thoughts slowly slipping away from you
Like fine sand sifting away from your fingers
Years seemingly run away, it’s true
In your tongue, the unspoken lingers
While you stand there, mouthing undecipherable words
Until your mind’s rendered completely empty
And you’re left there standing alone, feeling heavy.
Not knowing how to say something
And lacking the right words to use
Your best ideas dissipating into thin air, lost
Just when you needed them the most
The words running away from the back of your brain
Diving off at the very tip of your tongue
And your hands fail to move and instead shake badly in pain
Writing nonexistent words
Until your mind overflows with too many thoughts, unkind
And crumbles your peace of mind.
It hurts so much
It’s the worst kind of pain to us
A pain like no one can ever imagine
Like the taste of the stars fading away from your lips
Like the flame of a candle, flickering, dying bit by bit
Like the darkness consuming you from where you stand
Like the celestial universe being ripped away from your hands
It just feels that terrible, that scary, that bad
And I don’t at all jest
Like emptiness, a hollow feeling in your body and mind
It really hurts to be an uninspired poet.