Tag Archives: mend

Dissimilitude

Obscure thoughts
And manic visuals
The king of deception’s
Repulsive ritual…

~*~

I am unable to mend myself anymore

Instead closer to discomfort, adoring the

.

Minor slip-ups that further slip me away

Into a state of feeling infinite nothing

.

Because my ribs are starting to close in

And propane seeps into the bones of the aether

.

I find myself struggling to reach out beyond

False epiphanies and this cultist chase

.

Just to seek out disproportionate happiness

For what else is there left to trip on?

~*~

A throne of dissimulation
And disfigurement
King of deception, hell sent
A thirst for corruption…

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fixers

please mend me

if i never cared

about you enough to

tell you what to do

.

please mend me

if you don’t care

about me enough to

tell me why you do.

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anatomical dissection: brain

what hurts more,

remembering to forget

or forgetting to remember?

.

you count all the wins

and all the pyrrhic losses

that take your victories under

.

what hurts more,

the scars on your shoulders

or the scars inside your mind?

.

invisible to the naked eye

but a succumbing force that

makes you lose what you’ll find

.

what hurts more,

staying for the sake of leaving

or living for the sake of staying?

.

lock the pain up in your room

and hope this house burns down

with you still trapped inside, crying

.

what hurts more,

all the words that they said

or the words you never spoke?

.

sticks and stones don’t break bones

but splints and cement puts them back

quietly mending what you always broke

.

what hurts more,

knowing too much of everything

or drowning in your own ignorance?

.

scourge for knowledge, miss for bliss

drain the oceans and fill up the abyss

self-hatred fighting your self-defiance

.

what hurts more,

this cold logical ideology

or the lying sentimental truth?

.

it’s a constant push and pull

of devastating dreams and riled reality

inspiring like the rabbit inspires the wolf

.

what hurts more,

overthinking things again

or not thinking about it at all?

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Rumours and Hearsay From Astronomy

“It wasn’t her who broke the stars.”

.

But she felt guilty all the same

As she stared at the dull midnight sky

Scattered with shards of light that hurt

In astral twinges and lunar fringes

When it hits her unblinking eyes

.

“It was him who fixed the horizon.”

.

But he didn’t feel responsible at all

He was merely there by coincidence

When it began to have mended itself

Coalescing into incandescent dawn

And yet he couldn’t say anything

.

“There’s this girl who locked the moon into the nebulae…

…and that boy painted the firmament rather ebulliently.”

.

Such mere rumours that the bored planets

Whispered clandestine amongst themselves

Altering details and chasing phantasmagoria

As the supernova truth shrank into a black hole

And sucked the boy and the girl in its dark void.

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Butterfly Stitches

Give me a mouthful
And leave me nothing now
So chalk it up to the drone
Hack it out, wear it down
Where will you go when
You’re feeling blue?

~*~

i may never have the courage to do

the perseverance and hope that you pursue

like making snow castles out of icicles

and twisting lemonade out of bland honeydew

i cross my fingers for fibs not faith, it’s true

and my constellations are merely apologetic construes

but when i pretend there’s a horizon past the ceiling

i close my eyes and watch you taste the sun whilst tiptoeing

for you dance those rhythms that i’ve always faked

and fog the glass over your scribbled breathing mistakes

sew the thread past your heart to fix rivets and abate

shine your smile and sharpen your teeth when you awake

an incandescent perspective in this dismal existence

you may be hurt but you strive and fathom to make sense

dear, i may never have the courage to mend like you do

but your butterfly eyes encouraged me to try being brand new.

~*~

So save me and tell me how
it all got so doubtful
Leave me nothing now
Back on the old road
You’re wishing you’ll wind me down…

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Mending the Moon

i shall mend the moon for you

and i hope you’ll still accept it

even though there are stitches

intertwining through its craters

and i’ll embroider sparkling stars

on the dark side of the lunar face

perhaps you’ll hang it on the doorway

next to the artwork sun you handpainted.

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