Tag Archives: life

Neurotoxicity

this tiredness

melts into everything

and burns into your

mercurial core

until it turns into lead

and circulates into

your system;

weighing you down

paralysing you,

poisoning your veins

until you’re stupid,

sluggish,

stuporic,

lethargic and cold,

and every hue of

your senses

dulled down into

pencil graphite grey,

and it’s all you

can do to push before

the point breaks;

you run out of

words to say, you

run out of excuses to

give, you run out of

your willingness

to continue the story…

so you stop caring

and become

this lazy,

complacent,

apathetic,

hedonistic man

with a disregard for

his own sake

as well as others.

yes, you are working

hard, but only

to avoid interaction,

going outside,

listening to others,

possible conflicts,

social contact;

to avoid everything

that you once

enjoyed and loved,

and to keep

your intents behind

deprecating assurances

and passive acts.

you don’t know what went wrong.

you have everything

and everyone waiting for

you out there,

waiting for you to

hold on, keep up, go on

but the lead is

detaching your tongue,

replacing your blood,

constricting your diaphragm,

shriveling your organs

from decaying and necrosis,

clouding your neurons,

it’s already killing you inside

but no one ever notices

it’s a perfect slow suicide;

the masochistic cure.

and you’re too tired

to even give a shit anymore,

and you’re just tired

to do any of those things;

to stand up,

walk it off,

set to the future,

and change your ways—

it’s cliché, but hell,

you know that you’re

already fucked

and you’re just too tired

to fucking care.

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Saving my Sleep for the Sirens

The frame, the friction
It’s the reason that we all become aware
And we change for no reason
Some say it’s better to fall asleep and disappear
It’s time we finally look at what we’ve done
And wake up…

~*~

I cannot sleep, this haunt persisted to stay

I need a hand here to suffocate my throat

Lie, otherwise I won’t have another today

Amidst arctic isles and glaciers I will float

.

Don’t they know that’s all I dream about?

Perhaps I am just too ambitious to forget

Say I’m right, indulged in septic fantasies

Teetering at the edge of a cliff over death

.

But my jealous mind is pushing me farther

I couldn’t dissolve my nightmares, after all

Standing with my back against the red sun

And screaming, I have never felt more tall

.

I am another thought that lacerates skins

If you bleed out because of me, so let it be

Seeking an escape, the exit sign’s blinding

And I’m chasing circles away from misery

.

I am slipping out, my foothold is unstable

Through rain and ashes, I bathe in debris

Threads unravelling of stitches miserable

I cannot fall from touch, never sedentary

.

I’ve wished for a dollar that I won’t be rich

They call me insane, but that’s the way it is

The point I try to make is never transparent

But the light from my lies makes it apparent.

~*~

So here we are, we’re waiting for a fall
And on the radio they’re calling on satellites
Like they’re going to save us all…

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No One Does It Better

If these whispered words don’t make sense

Because all the things you say are in past tense

I’ve never seen a frown quite like yours, dear

We’re moving too quick, I can barely see past the tears

.

Things won’t change with the blink of a blue eye

There’s a crash in the system, and a sun that won’t die

Leave it all behind when your feet is barely touching the ground

Searching for a secret place where you could never be found

.

Let’s stay out late and laugh about the childish lies that could never be

If I chain myself to your bleeding wrists, would I be set free?

But somehow there’s a moral somewhere in this addicting vice

I’ll simply smile behind your back and I’ll play nice, I can play nice

.

This was nothing but trouble, but it was all worth it to me

We’re going down, I told you about how it’s gonna go wrong badly

The alarm is sounding, red lights flashing, and we’re dancing under fire

Can you still hear me as you drown under the depths of desire?

.

The bitter taste was my saving grace, my only reason to live

I’m too tired to find my problems now, I’m too tired to know what I can give

I don’t know what I was thinking when I pulled the curtains shut

The rope around my neck is keeping me hanging on, please understand that

.

I would be out of line to say how damn beautiful you look tonight

But even if I’m not allowed to speak, that doesn’t mean that I’m not right

I was hoping to take a hold of the lost future we saved for the last

It wasn’t the best we had, but it’s better compared to the past

.

The headache is beginning to grow, I think it’s highly contagious

The room is spinning and my vision’s blurring, and I’m going delirious

Your honesty is something to be jealous about, and your vanity’s not your sin

Your virtues burn faster than your cigarettes, inhale the smoke within

.

I woke up with all your bags packed and gone, and the cab you hailed was denying

This is just another difficult test, and it’s one that I seem to be failing

The grudges I held onto left faster than your memories, I’m not losing sleep over you, it’s true

And if there’s any reason to move past, dear, no one does it better than you.

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Sans Voix

The tiny stitches

You’ve sewed into my lips

Won’t let me go

I can’t speak, I can’t speak

Flying freedom

I fathomed wrongly to have

Snatched tongue

Waywardness I seek, I seek

Of the only place

Where I am sound of mind

You’ve stifled it

Let me sleep, oh let me sleep

The single thing

That’s keeping me barely alive

You’ve hijacked

I couldn’t keep, I couldn’t keep

In melancholia

Drops of blood and respiration

And dried tears

I shan’t leak away, I shan’t leak

I vain escaping

The dark solace you have ruined

And once again

Against your poison, I’m weak, so weak…

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dream or reality?

that was the most fun

i have ever had in my

fuckfest of a ruined life

if I can do it again, i will

but when i woke up, it

all dissolved, and i am

back to kissing knives

just so i could try to feel.

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Filed under Poetry

Stalker

stop obsessing

over my life

just because you

need to get one

of your own.

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Filed under Poetry

Wild One

It’s been a year, kid.

I don’t have to constantly check up on you anymore, and be paranoid whether you are still breathing as you slumber, unknowing, naive, innocence in its most delicate form. I can only count your heartbeats, slow and steadily warm, whispering reassurances to me, making me believe still in a transient hope on a world so lost and pitifully dark. All the nights I’ve had to give up, interrupted sleep I’ve had to bide my tired mind by, the erstwhile activities and further indulgences I’ve had to forego to help in taking care of you, the stress, the weeping, the spewed bodily fluids, the horrid diapers, the sacrifices ventured and risks undertaken, everything and nothing all at once…I suppose it was all worth it in the end.

You’re still here, after all, breathing, laughing, crying. Living. One year in. It’s crazy to think just how much has changed, how everything has been elicited by insignificance, how everything slows down yet speeds up at the same time, nerves racing clockwork ticks, how much has changed, how far you have grown. It only feels like a trembling fingertip away when you were a newborn infant delivered from the hospital, and, lying there, ensconced in white silken sheets and resting with umber eyes wide shut, I saw a part of the universe that was apt with the stars in the sky. I basked in the warmth of someone who doesn’t have to be arrogant and jaded like the rest of the heartless horizons, a soul, that was a diamond moon, uncarved, pristine, an enigma. An incandescent light that catches the sparkle in every worthwhile heart. I left the room dazed that day, with ink all over my hands, holding a crumpled piece of paper, unsure of my own senses, pensive and ocean-deep.

Admittedly, I’m not the best babysitter. Sometimes I’m clumsy and end up panicking amid bloodstains and scarlet bumps. Sometimes I get vexed and irritated by your inability to act and your constant incessant shrieking, for heaven knows what reason. Sometimes I snap at you for your tantrums and for the things I know are not under your control. Most of the time I don’t know what the hell I’m even doing when I hold you. I know I’m a child-hating misanthrope that doesn’t take any shit from any other snot-nosed bratty brat that dare crosses my path, and I should be a choking hazard, kept fifty miles away from any person under 5 years old. But you are the exception.

Your shrieking laughter trumps all the crying and wailing I’ve endured from you. Your adorable cooing and chubby tottering alike, the fact that I was there for your initial steps, your first word (“Wa-ta.”), the numerous milestones that can’t be replaced by a million million-dollar paintings. The jubilance and uplift your cloudy childish curiosity banishes my demons temporarily and ties my emotions to a raspberry red balloon, sends me shimmering against your diamond moon, providing me an ephemeral glow, enough to get me though the day. You make me this incredibly maudlin and histrionic, hell, not everyone has the ability to do such a thing. And yes, I may have lost my room when you arrived, true enough, but I found a home in you.

To my sister’s chubby little child, stay wild and have fun, not only in your jungle themed party (which somehow has a clown?), but in this jungle of a life as well. True enough that your untainted whims may not last forever, but the memories remain like butterflies in my tongue, fluttering, tinting my lips with chromatic stained glass artworks, tasting of fairy dust and sweet sugary candy and an indistinguishable distinct bitter undertone, a hueful transfer with every cuddle and pinch and peck. You’ve got no reason to be sad, you need no reason to be happy, which is why you’re smiling all the time. You’ve got many people who love you unconditionally, so beat your chest and swing on the vines, you’ve got a lot to roar about. Don’t grow up too soon now. You deserve that much, at least.

Happy birthday, Gianni-ya.

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Filed under Prose

on recitation #1

attempting to participate

in recitation can be

just a total bitch

because no matter how

tired my raised arms

get, apparently i just

don’t fucking exist.

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Filed under Poetry

letters to s.d.: fragment #1 {lifeline}

To: S.D., West Coast
Southern California
Return address: V.M.J.T.
Tijuana, Mexico

dear s.d.,

i don’t know how to begin,

but I know where it all starts.

it starts with me carving

gold stars on my wrists

and leaving tissues stained

with a beautiful shade of red

sopping over the metal kitchen sink,

glinting a hypnotic silver like

the blade in my trembling hands

…and that’s where it all was

simply supposed to have ended.

but apparently i’m still alive

and instead of wasting my blood

i’ll use the rusty ink to write

to you instead. so, how are you?

i miss the thought of losing you

and your silly uttered promises.

you said you’ll be the catalyst

to my raging cancer, but I’m still

crippled and weak from the fear.

you also told me you’d come to

separate my throat from my own

cold dead hands, but you’re still

missing and I’m still meaningless.

your lies are inebriating, darling.

you keep running circles in my

one-track mind 24/7, 365 days,

but I don’t think of you enough

or otherwise I wouldn’t have

proceeded with painting my

paper skin with rubious liquid

before shredding it to pieces

like any other filthy, disgusting

untoward abstract art deserves.

as my guts twist and untwist like

the grey earphone cords jammed

in my ears, blasting this fucking

world away with fake allegories

of a boulder hard lullaby melody,

and your voice screams the song

that i fell hard for. i’m fully aware

that you were singing it for bella,

not for me, and it’s so bittersweet

yet still I could not help myself

and a blossomed ironic quivering

smile collides against the pain—

fugacious, but for a moment

everything seemed quite normal

(but the moment of normalcy

was ruined by the knife biting

down distractedly on my flesh).

oh, your remedy and memory is

killing me slowly, worse than the

disease. we liked to run our blood

thin, but you divorced this addiction

and turned to singing, rivers calming

your tantrum storms, while I kept

relapsing to the blades that love to

feel, screaming in the showerhead

as scalding water pours and prepares

my temperature for inevitable hell.

i simply cannot help it, darling.

in this purgatory existence, there

are only momentary limbos of a

cumulonimbus paradise, before the

mocking angels snatch it away from

me, out of my reach; and make it rain

glass shards and wasteland debris

to maim my intravenous drugged veins

and they didn’t take you from me;

no, they goddamn dragged you halfway

around the fucking universe to keep

your gospel lips unattainable forever.

this ritual is only my blood sacrifice

to the merciless gods. understand that

this is only my way of returning you back

to the embrace of my lacerated arms that

You have yet to wrap yourself around in.

i’m so sorry this had to be the last resort.

i just want your company to burn me again.

i know that you won’t condone this blasphemy…

but you’re my heaven s.d., so don’t give me hell.

.

don’t let [REDACTED] go, don’t fucking throw [REDACTED] away.

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Ring the Bell Referee, and Let the Fight Begin

Such a shame you had to go and run your mouth
Your mouth is what you make it but at least I’ve got real friends—
Can you hear me now?! Now that I’m a big star!
Fuck you and your new love for yourself! (It don’t mean shit…)

~*~

Life is a kickass enemy, and the rage is a motivation

Let the judges slit my throat over my unorthodox declaration

It’s hard punches and cold lunches packed with action

Move closer to me now, and step into my own creations

Say my sullied name again, I’m stronger than before

I left my shoes under the bridge so when I fly, I feel lighter

Honestly it’s not that easy to have half of my fun

But this crimson ink bleeds so I won’t have to use a gun

My fingers they splinter from frenetic movements

If I’m still alive right now, I’m only breathing in segments

Ideas run wild and I stumble, I gotta pace to keep up

And I have to learn more about gravity to get the last laugh

Hear the sound of my voice among a stentorian million

Fuck the stars and dollar bills that sing against my emotion

I’ll whisper in silver undertones and break my voice on needles

Roll the dice but you can’t solve all my cryptic riddles

Don’t take my jealous life of matches and propane lights

Kill it fast, don’t let it die, I’m on a hurricane tonight

Spit and masticate the contract written on skin and paper

Throw the shreds in the seafloor bed under the polluted waters

But oh my god, I’ve been looking in the wrong direction

Running away in pilchard pastels over twisting intersections

This turnpike velocity won’t be my ultimate weakness

I’ll try not to splinter my soul, I’ll try never to second guess

So stop staring at me now, your glare is nitrogen seething

I promise I’ll be even later for our preliminary meeting

I’ll praise the chicken scratches I’m proud to call my home

Cursed again, this foolish confidence just won’t leave me alone

I’m exhausted, I’m burnt-out, and everything quavers spasmodically

But shit I’ll use my own words, I’m not gonna borrow from the dictionary

I know this adrenaline high will wear out soon, I’ll collapse from temporary exhilaration

But goddamnit I’ll drag my broken legs to hell if I have to, and I’ll abuse this rare motivation.

~*~

And I’ve got so much to give
But I would kill just to feel less invisible!
And you’ve got so much to learn about gravity
So live it up baby don’t look down
(Live it up baby, don’t look down…)

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Filed under Poetry