bloodstain love
and skinny jeans
on emulated flesh
paynes grey eyes
.
lip full of dyspnea
busted-up trainers
a stimulated heart
dishonest one-two
.
bold fisticuffs dare
acrimonious glance
a lying spectograph
misophonic angels
.
incendiary madness
death for the lepers
endangered mentality
but only ever for you.
Filed under Poetry
Everything’s just
Loud noises and
Abrasive strangers
And complacency
Take a fake apology
Dripping dead grins
Photographs taken
Just after the screams
And numbness, their
Madness, look happy
Forcibly, and pretend to
Be the perfect family
When everything’s just
Another bad memory
With noisy strangers
In a throwaway insanity.
Filed under Poetry
I am not your monster
I’m not the flesh you wish to rend
With your bared fangs
Clawing the sides of my shoulders
As if making me bleed
Profusely would be your salvation
.
I am not your monster
Hidden underneath the floorboards
But you have a shovel
And a knife, and the dirt you dug up
Was crammed into my
Mouth, burying all the words I spoke
.
I am not your monster
Stitched up and painted to look alive
A bride without a heart
Shambling down the aisle in despair
Veil masking the frowns
Picking thorns out of my open palms
.
I am not your monster
A lullaby you use to terrify children
Threatening retribution
From such a wicked, deformed being
Still human; though just
Not enough to invoke empathic pity
.
I am not your monster
The madness you created for yourself
Scars warn to “stay away”
An urban legend for the rest of society
No, I am not your monster
But I fear you might be becoming mine.
Filed under Poetry
We hear that rumbling song in the distance
It’s coming closer, but we don’t like to talk about it
The sticks and stones won’t build you a home
And every word, it will exert you ’til you’re done…
~*~
hear me scream
your pity in disguise
verses reimbursing
an arcane surprise
so go find the me that
dripped down your
throat like madness
and felt like a cold
decimating the decay
or so i’ve been told
.
a night of encounter
faded into sometimes
sessions in the theatre
to remind you’re not mine
withdrawals attacking
this most awful defiance
but maybe if you don’t
find me out to fix me up,
soon enough, i’ll be able to
avoid this unexposed romance.
~*~
Where do we start
If we will end apart?
Where do we go from here?
It’s head versus heart
It will all be clear someday…
Filed under Poetry
the abyss is your wornout teeth
creaking and gnashing at four in
the morning—deathly eves whisper
in alluringly sweeter nevermores
as your mind draws a point blank
chalky and arid, the rewind is set to
fit the blame and delirium quite sure...
lights dragging the diabolical taste
of cancer and firelight away to hell
as it burns for the hearts of infidels
though carry not the cursed hurt nor
wretched inferno that only means to
submerge its sharp, bleeding claws
deep down into your tender sternum
to slowly pick your entrails apart as it
would a grand and delectable banquet;
cerise mucilage trickles in between the
crook of your damned eternal frown,
moulding your seething madness into
a scream of inscrutable evisceration.
Filed under Poetry
You sat in front of me tensely; shaky hands, quivering lips, splintered voice, I almost believed you for a second
I’m not looking for an apology. I’m not looking for love. I’m just looking out for myself
Your hair tangled like barbed wires, dirty fingernails agitatedly running through it in an attempt to search for an answer—why? Why not?
I’ve heard the same dialogue before. It tastes the exact same way it did when I woke up this morning and felt only cold bedsheets and bitter advil on my tongue, spit it out
Betrayal. Is that what you called it? Is that how badly you think of me? Dirty traitor. Is that what I am?
The viselike grip on my throat slowly tightens, leaving just enough space for a final dignified gasp. The wooden chair creaks an inch
But you kicked it over. Swinging like autumn leaves, a bit dramatic. I did it all for you. Surely you must have. Let’s see them figure you out without a crumpled note to tell them why
Because I honestly don’t know either, dear. Whiskey and aftershave makes me feel dizzy and I can’t think clearly. Have to t h r o w – u p
Bruises line the bathroom wall and I stumble over your slippery tears. Were you listening behind the door, when I was crying my face out? Yes. Quite wet. A quick shower doesn’t sound so bad. Might get rid of all the nasty stains on my shirt
Fucking crazy bastard, you spitefully whisper on the other side of the fogged-up glass, and I can’t help but smile back, diamond girl
Isn’t that why you fell for me?
Filed under Prose
I’m in love with someone who’s hurting me killing me agonisingly slowly turning every word from my mouth into congealed blood and stale chewed gum and I can’t speak or breathe or eat anymore and it’s so heavy everything’s so heavy it’s like my bones are carved out of crude limestone but my brain is built of cheap plastic and it just refuses to work there’s a dogeared faded polaroid picture of you hidden somewhere in that fragile container and save for your radiant smiling face and soft baby blues it’s astonishingly empty no wonder that’s how I feel most days now most days it’s just the taste of your exquisite name lingering on my bruised lips though we never even kissed and some kind of sick distraction that never lasts long enough to send me back into the past to heal my scars if I didn’t run away from you like a complete coward back then would I be bravely holding your hand now? There’s really nothing much to do but sit around and contemplate and silently cope and stare at the bedroom walls bleached with dry rot and knuckle marks and try to ignore the creeping blood drawing underlines all over your wrists it’s about to burst oh god everything’s about to fucking explode into the most beautiful most violent most decadent shade of red———no. The carnage speaks for itself but I never once touched you no I wouldn’t dare taint your artful acrylic heart with my filthy damaged corrupted skin please you’re so perpetually pretty and I’m just the mess you made and you didn’t even know no you’ll never even know I don’t know why that pains me the most when it should be all for the best and you should be happy you deserve that much and more and I love you my darling yes I do you’re worth more than all the black holes and stardust in the universe and I’ll never adore and cherish anyone more than you but it’s sad to say you’ll always be hurting me killing me choking my words from a million miles and oceans away a million times over until drowning becomes just another bad habit and my obsessive lungs are filled with taffy and saltwater and it’s weighing my tongue down I can’t speak anymore though I have too much to say to you but you’ll never hear me out so I guess I should save myself for hell and dream of you just one last time to see if the thrill of the chase lasts longer than the capturing kill (I’m certain it wouldn’t, but the stupid things I would do for you in an arrested heartbeat could stop my twitching pulse) and finally shut up.
Filed under Prose
N O T – E N O U G H
my body screams
limitations tear
at my throat like a
bad weather flu
taking over with
feverish delusions
overthinking and
undermining itself
a brain in high-octane
misery, burning out
of the hollow skull
to save itself from
drowning in its own
madness, screaming
N O T – E N O U G H
Filed under Poetry
mass hysteria,
melting down into
a million jagged
pieces—of pure
nonsense and
plastic panic
philosophical
diatribes taken like
placebo medicine
lost in a wreck
unopened letters
hanging by a thread
shivering hands
no longer sane
reaching still for
the final claim
so find out before
time inches
forward, a sharp
blade straight down
the left lung,
searching for a
cavity that’s about
to detonate
from cortisol and
mad serotonin
blown out of
proportion, mixing
in confusion but
finding no answer
next to liars and
cancer; euphoria?
pure mania? take your
colours, it’s over
it’s over, the deed
has been done
the consequences
hold the lock, the
key is missing now
and the demons
have been unleashed…
calm your mind
from bad decisions
anxiety’s grasp
will suffocate you
like it did—
like it does and
it will—but please
just keep it down and
let the concrete set
before you sleep
on another pile of
instant regrets.
Filed under Poetry
N̵̖̻͙̓i̴̧̢͐̿͜g̷͚͙̜̓͝h̴͉͈͌t̸̟̱̾s̵̗̯͋ ̸̠͍̈́̕l̴̢̀͊i̸̛̖̳̰̾k̵̜͎̐e̷̡̦̯̔̈́ ̴̖̇̒̅t̵͎̙̞̑̄͘h̴̨̯͙̉̈́̇ě̴̢͇s̵̻̲͜͠ē̸͚,̸̛͚̜ ̵͓̞̳̇̇w̴̹͂̓̍h̶̨̪͂é̶͕͚̖̓̚r̷͇̖̉ͅe̴͈̋̌͋ ̴̨̛̳̇̾Ỉ̶̪̚͘ ̷̱̩̅͜f̴̖̾̂͆e̸͉̻͒ě̵̪̰͂͜ľ̵͖̟͖̋̏ ̸̬̽r̷̭͖̼̈́̋e̴͕̥̍a̵͈͂͆̅l̷͈̗̽̓͌.̶͓͉̽͋̀͜.̵̧̣͈͑͝.̷̻̟̏ͅ
For a moment, the catatonic world seemed like a transparent illusion to him; nothing but faceless ghosts and vague outlines of ruined buildings and veiled horizons that barely existed beyond the twilight skylines. Gossamer, that’s the pretty word for it. Everything was so exquisitely gossamer.
“Kyle…Kyle?”
From beside him, he could hear Dylan softly calling out his name, beckoning him out of his efflorescent daydream. But Kyle merely closed his eyes and sighed, leaning back and letting the warm sand slip and sift between his delicate fingers. Dylan knew better than to persist and disturb his reveries further, thankfully.
Everything seemed like miles away from Kyle; the aegan ocean, his bickering friends, the salty breeze in his lungs, all of it seemed to be gradually wandering away from him, in search of a better reality.
Tranquil tidal waves solemnly lapped against the coastline, cool and fragile, barely reaching his toes. From behind him, a warped laugh from Zach, an indignant cry of protest from Jordan, Dylan’s poor exasperated attempts at mollifying the situation—a polaroid snapshot of a fleeting argument, a fleeting memory, in a fleeting lifetime.
In a while, Kyle’s spine began to feel quite sore from sitting upright, so he shifted a bit further to shake off the discomfort and rest against Dylan’s shoulder.
But, in leaning back, he found in surprise that his friend seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
In fact, all of them had.
Kyle panicked as he flailed in an attempt to retain his balance, but it was all too late. He quickly toppled backwards and felt himself crashing fast onto…the ground?
Not this time, still.
There was nothing but empty air beneath him.
Kyle could do nothing but let the volatile wind carry him away, as the horizon tilted from his vision and blurred into a sfumatic landscape—of violent fugacious colours and relapsing imbricated patterns.
From beyond that psychedelic film reel, he swore he could faintly hear Zach’s echoing voice counting down, so dangerously close yet so far away from him. But…to what end?
Five, four, three, two, one…
Kyle finally landed on something with a soft thump. He wasn’t quite expecting a gentle landing, but he was really grateful for it.
For about five seconds.
Until he shifted his gaze to see a messy tangle of translucent plastic wires connected to his chest and snaking past his limbs, a thousand needles painfully embedded in his veins and all over his arms, and all of these damned things tapering off to poisonous IV lines and contraptions stretching far beyond the gurney’s reach.
Creeping panic descended on Kyle and quickly set in once more. His heart began to beat fast, faster, somehow even overtaking the metronomic beeps that were supposed to be in sync with it. The discordant sound raged and roared in his ears, but he couldn’t block it out. He couldn’t scream for help. He couldn’t do anything at all.
Rendered completely powerless, Kyle could only watch in silent horror as metal medicine men disguised with stained scrubs and face masks milled frantically around him, attempting to suppress his rapid tachycardia and to no avail. The anthropomorphic beings wielded sharp scalpels that drew scarlet lines across his flesh and reviving paddles that numbly jolted him, but seemed to be useless in the fight to keep his failing heart still functioning.
Right behind them, Zach stood morosely, shifting from one foot to the other unsurely as he overlooked the grotesque scene. He was wearing a tattered funeral suit and holding a wreath of shriveled black dahlias in one hand, his miserable stare full of pleading remorse.
“Stay with us now!”
That final scream wasn’t a strange android’s monotonous voice. It was familiar, pained—an aching, desperate plea. Whose voice was it?
Kyle, it seemed, didn’t have time to find out.
He felt the life drain out of him as his frail body went limp, his stuttering breaths became elusive, and his vision slowly faded out into darkness. A bored voice announced his time of death as if they were reading it off a newspaper obituary.
A droning flatline. A blinding white light. Another dreadful sensation of recklessly falling away…
“Kyle!”
He suddenly awoke to find himself floating in the middle of the ocean, frigid waves angrily cresting and swelling around him. He was still wearing his hospital gown, which was heavily soaked but did not weigh him down much, thankfully. His mouth also tasted rather salty from—was it from the ocean water or blood?
Kyle tried to take a deep breath, but his throat immediately constricted and he swallowed back a mouthful of the unknown liquid; lungs burning, coughs overtaking, still struggling to keep himself afloat despite the inevitable void that was pulling him in once again.
Or was it something else?
He felt a steady hand grasp him by the arm and carefully drag him out back onto the shore. Heaving and spluttering, Kyle weakly crawled away from the waters and peered up into the looming face of his saviour.
“Jordan, is that you?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” His companion simply replied. “Are you okay?”
“No, no I’m fucking not!” Kyle snapped in frustration, his eyes welling up with tears and blurring his vision. Looking up once more, Jordan’s face appeared less of a human being to him and more of an abstract portrait. Spiralling, he was still spiralling…
“I don’t know why I’m being put through this and which one of these memories is reality anymore and just—I don’t wanna live in a world like this!” Kyle continued to seethe as he punched the ground until his knuckles bruised, hoping that the pain would keep him from completely losing grasp again. “Are you even real? Are any of you?! Or is this just another fake fiction? And what about me? Am I also just make-believe? I don’t know and I can’t fucking trust my head anymore. What the hell is going on here?”
Jordan, however, appeared to be mostly unfazed by his furious diatribe. “To tell you the truth, we don’t know either.” He said with an indifferent shrug.
“I figured as much.” Kyle buried his head in his hands in sullen resignation, still shuddering from the hypothermic cold overtaking his skin. “But, I swear, just tell me one thing, please…” He pled, voice barely above a whisper.
“When will this end?”
“You can’t ask too many questions here. Likewise, we can’t reveal too much. Trust me when I say that in this situation, ignorance is bliss.” Jordan’s tone unexpectedly shifted from callous to pitying, which made Kyle’s stomach turn even more in sheer dread.
“I really wish I could help you, Kyle. But I can’t. I just can’t.”
“It’s okay. I guess I’ll just have to figure this one out myself.” Kyle murmured, smiling thinly in defeat. “You’ve done enough already.”
Jordan walked away without saying another word, his solemn shadows moving away from Kyle and stretching out into black labyrinths on the sand. Overhead, a seagull sluggishly flew past and squalled, almost mournfully. A bright ray of afternoon sunlight peeking through silver cumulous clouds shone on Kyle’s face and momentarily blinded him, and he blinked once more.
“Kyle…Kyle?”
When he opened his eyes again, he was back with his three closest friends, resting on a checkered picnic blanket by the shore, back in that transparent world with its faceless ghosts and vague outlines of ruined buildings and veiled horizons—catatonic, yet somehow comforting.
“Yeah?”
“You’ve been kinda quiet for a while now.” Dylan observed thoughtfully. “You alright there? What are you thinking about?”
Behind him, another warped laugh. Another indignant protest following it. Another spell of hellish deja vu, resentfully nostalgic yet drastically different. Dylan’s concerned gaze was piercing through his confused soul, searching for some answers, meaning to understand him. But there was nothing left to be understood anymore, that much he knew. There just wasn’t.
Instead, Kyle simply shook his head in response and sighed wistfully. “No, it’s nothing. Nothing at all.”
He didn’t dare close his eyes now. Instead, he stared up into the calm indigo nothings above him and quietly wished that this time around, those hopeful words would be the only truth, even if it wasn’t going to be pretty at all. Gossamer…why is everything so exquisitely gossamer?
P l e a s e . . .
R̵̗͖̿e̴͕̞̍ą̴̘͔̽̽̉l̵̺̥͌̌ȋ̷̱͆̂t̵̢̐ŷ̴̤̋ ̷̮͌̍s̵͚̮̫͌͑̀ė̵̡̩̻t̴̫̟̔s̶̖͒̈́ ̵̪̗͆͛̊į̷̩̀͊̍n̶͉̬̆̍͠,̷͎̰͘ ̶̙͓̆̀̄a̵̠̐̇̎ṅ̸̢̜d̸̪͚̭͊ ̸̺̩̭̓͝I̶̮̺͇̾͋̕’̴̛̬̝̳̈́̅l̵̟͍̝̍̇l̷̔͗̕ͅ ̸̟̜̿̐b̵̪̑͗̒e̵̱̒̚ ̶̺̩͔͛̽͂g̸̢̘̥̈͊o̵͔͋́n̴͍̅́̈́ẽ̵̢̈́͗ ̴͎̙̍͌̽ä̵̗́͑g̷͇̥̓͌̈́ä̴͕̳̎̌i̵̟̍̌̕n̷̩̋.̶̖̣̰̈
Filed under Prose
A Lost Painting