Tag Archives: irony

Don’t Turn The Tables Sweetheart, You’re Gonna Dizzy Yourself Sick

Well, she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention, ‘cause that’s just ridiculously odd
Well, she sure is going to get it, here’s the setting
Fashion magazines line the walls now, the walls line the bullet holes
Have some composure and where is your posture? Oh, no, no!
You’re pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger all wrong…

~*~

You act like you’ve got a pretty laugh stuck in your ragged throat

Proud of the way you dirty your skin, proud of the way you gloat

About the veins, they’re just veins, they’re just another empty sea

I don’t want to swim, I don’t want to sink, I don’t want to censor me

.

Can you see the way I twist my hair into a noose that I’ll never hang?

Well the knots have hurt my fingers and for a moment my hands stung

All this beauty left to be romantic about, but sometimes nature is a bore

The bayside’s wayside in screaming trees, sometimes nature is a whore

.

When we did it, it was funny, it was temporary, it was just a tragedy

Coming from the cheap seats and you clapped for the longest irony

Now it’s your turn, it’s not funny, it’s forever, it’s a bruised symphony

We paid the balcony scene just to watch a charcoal sob for a penny

.

And your lips spill with attention and gush that you don’t want any

Paint the crooked crucifix on your pallid cheeks with bitter and honey

Now all the hypocrites adore you, blood-type A of sycophantic rude

Play a victim with a rifle to their shoulders, act as if it’s how you should

.

Now the trigger smiles so happy, does that bullet taste like sweet candy?

Do the fucking polaroids show off the best sides of your broken inhumanity?

Make us sorry that this reality didn’t fit your peach-twill dress and sanity

Was it your idea to put the slit in your throat so you can pretend that it’s originality?

~*~

Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention!
Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
When I say shotgun, you say wedding: shotgun, wedding, shotgun, wedding!
She didn’t choose this role, but she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry (give me a break) but they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet…

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Filed under Poetry

enough said

You wanna move mountains? Go ahead
I think I’ll suffocate instead
A change of scenery won’t tame
The endless earthquakes in my head
They’re all in my head, so I’ll suffer through
A means to an end, it’s all I can do…

~*~

i’m not the one at fault

but i’m the only cause you see

so i have to take the effect

what do you want me to do?

i’ve cut myself up until

both my mind and veins are drained

but not of all the guilt that i carry

and still, would it be enough?

would it be enough for you?

.

i’m just so tired of waiting

until i stop being such a fucking liability

and i start being your healthy host

that you parasites can ravage

just so i could atone for what i did

or at least just so you would see it that way

because what else is there?

saying “i’m sorry” when i don’t mean it?

that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?

.

but then again, it’s my fault

for being way too fucking optimistic

i don’t accept good and bad luck

and that this time i struck out

no, it’s all about positives and negatives

call it a karmic irony, if you may

find a way to be a little happy for once

and life drags you down through 7 layers of hell

tell me, loved ones, was i never enough?

.

and i couldn’t even write about it

because you’d call me selfish and shallow

that i have no right to be depressed

because i’m living the “good life”

and that i see only myself in all this

well, of course i fucking do

i need to place myself somewhere

otherwise i wouldn’t see the bigger picture

but don’t you see, loved ones?

will you never see that i’ve had enough?

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stolen

i know

i should

have seen

it coming

and this

selfish vein

of yours was

my undoing.

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Ash & Tongue

Ash is just a word, but why does it taste so ironically bitter in my mouth? Does it hurt to say it, because the conflagrating embers originated from my pharynx, tactlessly ignited after I accidentally swallowed phosphorous nitrate and it corroded against my sandpaper throat and set me on fire? Who would kiss a person with a mouth this filthy? Even the most affectionate of mothers turn their backs away from my chapped sooty lips, bleeding of halitosis and ashes and lies lies lies.

There it is, that word again, pulling my voice under hell and waking me up when I’m having the sweetest dream in my acerbic existence. The exit signs are glowing softly in delicate overtones, yet my bloodshot eyes perceive it as an uproarious neon scream, blinding my eyes, deafening my sight, blackening my vision. The water’s getting colder, I’m caught up in the rip, and my footing has slipped away. I’m swimming, no, drowning in the hazy fumes, dizzy from the medication-addled ozone, and still I could not hear a single truth amid all the false accusations.

He was a man until you destroyed him. You were a girl before I desecrated you, cautiously building you up brick by chalkdust brick, all the while as I’m hiding away the solitary intention of vulgarly demolishing the body that is your temple. And it was all too late for you when you found out. Did you survive all the devastation I caused and rose up from the rubble like a newly-reborn phoenix? Or have your devout worshipers fled the havoc and left you suffocating and buried under all the debris and ashes? Ash is just a name I used to call in my sleep, but why…why does it taste so painful between my teeth?

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Filed under Prose

I personally prefer bleach to whiskey or wine.

“And do you really trust your tongue or did you bury the taste?
And is this fantasy real, or is it all home-made?”

~*~

And they don’t know

how many times

i hated myself over

the colour of my eyes

l a c k u s t re

g l o s s e d – o v e r

d u l l e d

by a ton of medications

that i take ironically

to bring a blush into my cheeks

some shade into my flesh

and yet the pastel pink

is far too bright

like it’s drawn on with a crayon

by a colourblind child

but no matter what i take

my blood remains the same hue

diluted into a disgusting

watercolour painting

and i have to create artworks with it

every time i cough

and every time i can’t go to sleep

they all say it’s

d i s g u s t i n g

s e l f i s h

a l m o s t  i n h u m a n

and i know, believe me

i know it better than anyone else

you don’t have to tell me again

the voices in my head

do a better job of telling me

but with every decrepit strand of hair

that falls off my deforested scalp

is another count of another hour

no—another minute

that i continue to waste oxygen

in this faultless fucking world

so i knock back my codeine

and i slowly close the

flickering bathroom lights

avoiding my pale judging gaze

on the toothpaste-stained mirror

as i leave to

continue existing in

w o r t h l e s s

f u t i l e

e n d l e s s  c y c l e s

of this monochrome facsimile

drinking it all in

and hating myself again

over the colour of my eyes,

how it doesn’t have any.

i don’t want to live anymore

and yet i simply hate myself far too much

to even attempt to end my misery

and so it goes.

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scarlet moon

for the moon

that gives me

nightmares,

please won’t

you kiss me

goodnight,

and wish me

sweet dreams?

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Filed under Poetry

Tearing Barriers

thank you

for teaching me

that friends are

like uncemented

brick walls

and thank you

for pulling out your

brick from the pile

just so you could

watch mine fall.

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narcolepsy

how can one

go to sleep

if they were

never truly

a w a k e ?

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A Thousand Footsteps Away

Am I following too close?
Or am I right where I’m supposed to be?
Am I a million miles away?
Or am I so close I can almost reach?
Did I do it to myself?
Or did I really mean what I believe?

~*~

I’d leave a thousand times

And promise secrets I don’t intend to keep

Leave me alone in the valleys of ache

I will sing my drowning demons to sleep

.

I’d leave a thousand times

And swear to god I won’t pray anymore

Let me be to fester in my bloodstains

Like that mattered to you at all

.

I’d leave a thousand times

To retrace what was never there

When home was just a concept

And the white walls were once bare

.

I’d leave a thousand times

And speak about this infinite silence

When the doves come cooing back

I’m motionless in my presence

.

I’d leave a thousand times

And smile a smile that’s all teeth

This isn’t an ordinary cause for celebration

Let’s raise broken glasses at my defeat

.

I’d leave a thousand times

And say the lies I’ll hold to be true

Maybe this time the retreat will be short

And the release would be from me to you

.

I’d leave a thousand times

Just to come find myself again

If the raging undertows pull me under

Who knows what I’ll discover.

~*~

All I ever wanted was the blinding
Because all I ever saw was just a name
And all I ever wanted was to find it
It’s time, I finally know just what it means
To go off the rails, to go off the rails…

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Filed under Poetry

me, myself, and i

I wish it could be social commentary

But this is just a shallow me, me, me

Craving to care past my egocentricity

But I’m devoured by a pathetic misery

I wish I would stop all the maundering

When no sane ear wants to be listening

In the end, narcissistic throes are all lost

To self-hatred; such irony hurts the most.

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Filed under Poetry