Tag Archives: mouth

I’ve Got All This Blood On My Hands (And None In My Body)

Stay out of the light or the photograph that I gave you
You can say a prayer if you need to
Or just get in line and I’ll grieve you
Can I meet you, alone, another night and I’ll see you
Another night and I’ll be you
Some other way to continue, to hide my face…

~*~

I wanna turn your insides to white (say it ain’t so)

So it looks good on my bedroom walls (black, blonde, red)

My heart’s been bleached by the tidal waves (so wash me out)

I wonder if it had any colour at all (maybe not)

.

(So they say that the switchblade is better than the sense)

Well then, let’s see how you look in basketcase drag

(So they say that all this praying won’t make you a saint)

Well then, let’s see how you look when it goes bad

.

It’s not profound or romantic (it’s a mechanical interlude)

And I’m tired of (waiting for) all the infinite eulogies

(And they all put words in my mouth that) make me feel sick

Babe, I just wanted to sever a vein (but you made it plural)

.

(The incineration of another night, the gunshots rang clear

The townspeople screamed as a body fell out of a windowsill

Sirens wailed and ambulances crashed to the beat of my heart

Screaming “fucking save me!”, but it was all a nightmare thrill)

.

‘Cause Magdalene’s desecrated (and her scripture womb) now ain’t sacred

‘Cause all your best friends will only get together when somebody starts to die

‘Cause you can have your fucking funeral but still end up running late for it

(‘Cause you might) say grace all you want and still throw up (pure lies)

.

(Say it ain’t so) I wanna turn your insides inside out

(Black, blonde, red) And end up drunk on your bedroom walls

(So wash me out) My heart’s been drowned off by the tidal waves

(Maybe not) I wonder if it meant anything to you at all.

~*~

And we’ll all dance alone to the tune of your death
We’ll love again, we’ll laugh again
And it’s better off this way
And never again, and never again
They gave us two shots to the back of the head
And we’re all dead now…

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nocturnes, numbers, nyctophilia

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness—and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark. ~Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand

~*~

i.) the jealous penmanship

clever words left tears forming in my brain

ones that i have to open up my healing bruises

just so i could let them out somewhere

somewhere my veins wouldn’t be affected severely

(it was late at night, and my stars called out from nowhere)

sensations poured out from every letter and departure,

as it entangled itself with my nerves and wore them down,

and wore them like a dirty dress, and wore them out to town

until they were worn-out; nothing but a few stray threads.

i burned half of my journals when i turned 16 and stopped trying

to imitate being an author, because writing for me isn’t an expectation–

it’s nothing but another puzzling lock without a skeleton key

and because the most delicate daydream wasn’t mine

because selfishness, to me, is not just another bland adjective

because my bones screamed with the weight of a black hole

because your reveries were enchanting. and mine were f a d e d

n o , i ‘ l l  n e v e r  b e  a s  g o o d  a s  y o u

~*~

ii.) softness, like his heart in the shape of a newborn galaxy

i faded into an ugly shade of something that’s neither monochrome nor coloured;

on the verge of collapsing onto the other side of the fence, threatening madly

but never quite having the contemplation to choose a losing side

as i fell down into the blue of a stranger’s wanderlust eyes.

someone else had taken most of that vibrant shade already, but i managed

to steal away just a sliver, a glimpse, an infinitesimal shiver

and it was the kind of lasting cold that froze summer hurricanes

and kept my breaths visibly foggy and crisply sharp with every inhale

(you never warned me. you don’t know me, but you knew me too well. and i never listen.)

i’ll always be an insignificant detail in the cyan tapestry you painted for yourself

and i’ve accepted that long ago when i said i loved you in my nightmares,

tossing and turning on the bed covered in plastic arrogance because

no other blanket felt warm and comfortable enough for my body to sleep on

until then, i could only sink deeper into the fathomless wish that this universe would end s o o n

i t  w a s  a  k i n d  o f  l o v e  t h a t  m a d e  s u i c i d e  s o u n d  l i k e  m u s i c

~*~

iii.) an abrupt goodbye/the guilty party often disappears first

i was mad at something. i didn’t know what it was, but it was foolish enough

for me to take it out onto the embracing autumn sky, on the taciturn smiles that

were supposed to hold me when tempestuous desolation grabbed at my twisted throat…

and on you. you never meant anything. you just wanted to talk, and so did i,

but my tongue was a spilling box of blades, and every time i opened my

wounded mouth to make you laugh, i always ended up cutting you by accident instead.

(friend, even if i said i’m sorry, can you ever forgive me for what i’ve done to you?)

it was an unreasonable apology, and i erased myself because of my own self-hatred,

but not before leaving footprints of a migraine in your head, which you will inadvertently step on,

slip at, and hurt yourself…fuck. i don’t know why i’m like this. i don’t know why i have

to push and pull apart the only semblance of logic in my life, the only anchor

that keeps me from towing away from the tides, the last person that still feels real to me

when everything else has blurred into an amalgamated indistinct static background;

i don’t know why i feel so smothered, when you’re the only attention i’ll ever have and need.

at this point, the only thing we have is each other’s problems, and the way we both

jeered at it, taunted it, and blocked it out with our own shared playlists until we felt better—

but now that summer was just a distant memory, and so was the scarlet artwork we made of it.

you also needed comfort. but did even try? no. i ran away from the colliding wreckage

as if it wasn’t my fault, and i numbed myself out because i couldn’t do the same for y o u

i ‘ m  s o r r y  i  m a d e  y o u  s a y  s o r r y  s o  m u c h . . .

i  d i d n ‘ t  m e a n  t o  d e s t r o y  e v e r y t h i n g

~*~

iv.) the midnight closes. the violent curtain falls.

the cold glow of my computer screen was rude and restless

and it made my fingers promise, crossed and uncrossed, that i would

stay with it until it slips into comatose. i have rinsed my mouth with lukewarm water

a hundred times to try to wash out the taste of stale coffee, but it never came out and now

i’m stuck with it until morning, until another astrological moon cycle, until i lose

myself in the chemical moments of something that’s so artificially natural.

i’m constantly starving myself, stuck between confidence and relapsing withdrawals of

my past life that i thought i discarded when i finally held on to my shooting star,

but it was always tethered tightly to me by a crimson string. and it always probably will be.

i’m alone. i’m friends with people that talk shit to me in the mirror, and when i bite

my chapped lips and draw blood by accident, it almost feels like atonement. almost.

(i got what i came for and i can’t try again. this is what i want…..isn’t it?)

i know that there are people out there making fun of me and rolling their eyes

petulantly as they bask in the trite, whimsical “perfection” of their storybook existence

but not everything has a happy ending, and not every sad story has to end badly.

i don’t know. i’ll never know. i’m tired and i have responsibilities that i’m not

built for, and every crack turns into a break, and a break into shattered p i e c e s

t o m o r r o w  i ‘ l l  d o  t h i s  o v e r  a g a i n  .  u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  t o m o r r o w s .

~*~

v.) nocturnes.

( a n d  i ‘ l l  s t a y  h e r e )

u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  n u m b e r s  t o  c o u n t ,

a n d  t h o u g h t s  t o  f e e l ,

a n d  n i g h t s  t o  s t a y  a w a k e .

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boy with the bullets (smith & wesson)

It’s not fair when you say that I didn’t try
I just don’t want to hear it anymore
I swear I never meant to let it die
I just don’t care about you anymore…

~*~

you’ve been nothing but good to me

and yet i treat you with feral viciousness

spitting sharp razors down your back

and taking a .45 to your bruised throat

like you deserved any of it at all,

but you don’t. if anything, i am the one

who needs to be put down, for all the

crimes i’ve committed against you,

for every inflicted pain and malicious insult,

for every tactless word that travels from

my mouth and straight to your lungs, making

you lose your breath’s momentum again;

for everything i did to you and everything i didn’t…

you deserve to pull the fucking t r i g g e r

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Domestic Park

Desk drawers

Fractured tibia

Stopwatch red

Dream febricula

Medicated blues

Hangover sober

Ready-set overdose

Insides uncovered

Busted-up mouth

Bloodied ceiling

Cracked linoleum

Window unhinging

Screaming children

Playground purple

Tempest tantrums

Drainage overfull

Halted arguments

Gossipy neigbours

“Do-not-cross” tape

Handcuffed endeavour

Guilt-ridden laughter

Covered up with tears

Madness manifesting

“I didn’t do it, dear.”

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Laundry Detergent

keep that dirty soul for yourself

and wear it like sunday church clothes

no one else wants to wash it anyway

.

there are heavy bloodstains, i guess

but it shouldn’t really be that hard to remove

with all that chlorine in your mouth

.

the forecast calls for rain today, but

perhaps the weatherman is lying to you

just like everyone else that’s not you

.

so spin yourself in a cycle one more time

and when you get sick and dizzy from it all

open the windows and hang yourself out to dry.

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lights, camera, action!

i am a candid facade—

i am no longer the crashing wreck

portrayed in movies and books

bleeding out question marks and

bad decisions to the open ocean

.

i am the jaunt in your sunday steps

and the gaily tip of your hats

and a million dollar movie star

with the confident mouth and purple hair

.

i am a candid facade—

i am not me. i am not me. i am not…

i am dissociated from all my

failures and collapses, from my

depression and desperation,

.

from me, from myself, from i;

i am not me. i am not me. i am not…

.

until i am not becomes i am me.

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Her Hypodermic Heart

I’m fading away off some kind of drug
Maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s love
I know I said I’d straighten out a week ago
I’m feeling though, about to reach my peak, you know
The city’s got me falling off
I’m fading away, I’m losing my head…

~*~

She’s the girl of my dreams

But her nightmares come cheap

She’s got Xans for a goodnight kiss

And fictional love for my lifeline

Then I was told to stay the fuck away

But baby, my head lies all the time

.

If you’re in a rush, then stop running

You’re going too fast, the stopwatch tickin’

Mending my bones, but I’m still broken

Sayin’ I adore you when the ocean gets you

Blue and cold all the way to your mouth

Need another shot to keep it right, she knew

.

But the train stations stopped working

And I’m the only passenger left in red lights

Passing by the metro, keep that devil mania

It’s getting messy, and she’s gonna get me

Delete me from her fingers like I wasn’t there yet

Confuse my addictions as if I need more, yeah

.

Hit me twice and hit me hard, let me feel that smoke

Break me down and break me fast, let me feel my heart choke

Crash my central nervous system and keep the anxiety real

I’ve got some time to fuck around, so won’t you let me feel?

‘Cause she’s always been a sweet voice at the back of my mind

But only whenever I close my eyes and let the pills rewind.

~*~

‘Cause you’ve been steady
Crawling on your knees again
You need a friend
And I’ve been on the pills again
Baby’s only twenty-three
Dancing under lights since she was seventeen
Her brain’s flooded with ketamine…

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“Patience Is A Virtue”

Don’t break yourself now

Keep your temper in

And bleed your mouth dry

Trying not to scream

They won’t hear you anyway

And they’ll never listen

Not until they find evidence

Then they’ll lock you up

Sabotaging the hate they all

Once told you to ask for

Crashing the arrogance until

Everything’s fucking stale

So don’t break yourself now

Because even if you do

It’s not like it will even matter

To anyone but yourself.

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Oh, Ain’t That Clever? (The Hundred Dollar Profanity)

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the ugliest of them all?
Severed, crawling like spiders
Injecting poison, now kill the bile spewing
The walking selfish living dead
I turn to rust and you play
In all the filth that you’ve created…

~*~

Sweet milk will still taste spoiled

If the mouth is too putrid and rotten

And barbaric words just don’t define

Someone’s being a “good” person

.

Underhanded plagues dyed the rain

With condescension and redder stains

With a wish that the cleave cuts deep

And that leather flesh will never heal

.

As judging eyes feel the need to gloat

Like skies on fire, the ashy vanity floats

Prison’s good but the abuse feels numb

All hands on them until they succumb

.

It’s fine to feel fine, the need to feel needy

And pride has never been so carelessly greedy

But freedom will still taste like putrid decay

When the body’s too bitter to feel the right way.

~*~

And when your dreams have come to end
How will you buy your happiness?
And when your self is all you have left
With what will you fill your emptiness?
You are the cause of man’s dissolving evolution
Is my heart completely useless?

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Ruby Woo

Sit around waiting for the spark to fade
You can add another face to your pity parade
I can’t believe it, I’ve never felt so cheated
Knock me down, it was all pretend
You set me back up just to do it again…

~*~

I hope that you’re proud

Making fun of the boys on the street

That bruised their knees

And couldn’t get back up again after

While you swallow yourself

Whole, lipstick girl with a lipstick heart

Defending her own jealous

“I’ll be happy forever and ever and ever”

.

I hope that you’re proud

For making fun of the people that couldn’t

Stitch their lungs as well

As you probably thought you fucking did

While no air leaves your

Open lips, lipstick girl with a lipstick brain

Pretending that her beauty

Is nothing more than an ugly kind of pain.

~*~

What am I supposed to do, uh oh
When she’s so damn cold, like twenty below?
That girl, that girl, she’s such a bitch
I tell myself I can handle it…

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