Tag Archives: nothing

Deathwatch

There’s no point in hiding the truth from a freak

She let her arms swell as he took a big bite, let it stick

So that the vessel ropes he could find a little easier

And all that remains would mean nothing else to her

.

Does it hurt this much to be okay? Am I all that will be gone?

Her questions were relentless, and his curt answers stung

All he could tell was that blood’s quite softer than water

And clorox swirls down the drain just a little bit slower

.

Don’t find me out yet, I’m still purging all of my guilt

Grey is just something when all these pills taste like filth

Her stomach emptied as his was filled, one more for the road

But pray don’t slip on the wet tiles, though comfortingly cold

.

Get out of that fucking phase! Are you just dying for style?

Well, I love you too mother dearest, you won’t be yelling for a while

An attention seeking bitch, just can’t be more like the others

You’re only ever good with your head submerged underwater

.

And so what if I am? Why, would I look bad in your final will?

Her spite crammed the walls and the shadows were thrilled

He stayed silent, quite cautious, let the anger be his chance

If it’s only to prove your point to me, then I know my own stance

.

Teethmarks stuck vicariously to the mould like their grotesque signature

His embrace was eternally automatic, and she was just a friendly reminder

Because really, what was the point? We’re just a bunch of deadweight freaks

But she made sure to stick out her arms and wear the truth on her sleeve.

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smudged

a thousand flights,

of worn-down stairs,

of hymnal bells tolling,

of careless bodies,

a forgotten memory,

no more than a mere

smudged imprint in

the edifice of a tower

overlooking everything—

and until then…nothing.

.

day in, day out, cycles;

in rapid gyroscopes of

existences so barely free,

almost; not freely, out of control,

spinning, revolving, rotating.

until then, those thousand flights,

once holding melting footsteps,

a clamour that praised each sunset,

and even a few reckless bodies,

now holds back ire history for them.

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The Division

Let me count the ways you kill me;

1.) You carved promises at the notches of my brittle bones, mercilessly enthralling and hypnotising me under the anaesthetic assurance that everything was fine, that I was fine, and that I wouldn’t ever have to destroy myself again; but all the while, you crushed the very foundations beneath my suspended feet and made heaven shatter all around me like an ethereal motion sickness. And as if that wasn’t enough, you set everything on fire and watched this wretched phoenix turn to listless ashes, never to rise again; a demented conflagration.

2.) You promised me for better or for worse, but as I tried to find new names for the shade of red in my lips, you forgot about the obscene sickness that’s violently heaving inside my compromised chest and without so much as a twinge of second chances or point-blank hesitation, you injected every indistinct symptom known and unknown to man, turning my shaky breaths to crystalline lilacs and my selfish ribs to impure glass. I asked for a cure, and instead I received a despicable panacea, a myriad riot of plagues that irreparably devastated my system, ripping me to irreversible shreds. “You can’t get hurt if all you feel is hurt, right?”

3.) I’ve got hands like houses, and you rejected my severed hospitality as you broke down every locked door and deceptive boundary like it was nothing; like I was nothing. I constantly find myself lost in complicated syncopes, as I’m trapped spiraling and crawling back to the same self-sustaining cycles of parabolic grief and hypertensive schizophrenia, predicting premonitions that never came true. This eternal winter freezing over my bloodline is stitched together by a million blizzards and snowstorms conspiring exquisitely at once, but this difficult tantrum of a weather is not a tribulation to you, is it? Your cold temper is intolerable, a thousand suns melding together and detonating convulsively in the empty vacuum of space, and there’s no one else around to hear me scream one last time. I wanted to burn. You took it too far.

4.) Were you even sorry? Did you even feel a single taste of contrition when you watched my starving, pathetic soul grapple for life at the very nave of that decimated altar, asking for the silhouetted universe to fall on my back so that it wouldn’t be my fault, nor yours, that everything got screwed over? Did you see what I’ve done, just so I wouldn’t be what you’ve become? I couldn’t find my way back on the ground, so I swallowed my pride like pried coffin nails for the sake of a more poignant memory to remember; retribution heals what time cannot. Yet now I close my reckless eyes and softly coalesce in sadistic plumes of the miserable discourse you call an intravenous love, and I beg, and I beg. Were you even sorry at all?

5.) You are me, and I am you. I have no one. You are no one. When you lived, I died; and when you died, I along with you. I called it genocide. They called it desperation. For I am me, and you are you. There was no one else. They called it suicide. I call it salvation.

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Hey World, Why Don’t You Spin A Little Faster For Me?

‘Cause he gets up in the morning
And he goes to work at nine
And he comes back home at five-thirty
Gets the same train every time
‘Cause his world is built around punctuality
It never fails…

~*~

I feel so fucking useless.

The world is running at a breakneck speed and everyone around me is already growing up and moving at a steady pace, getting jobs, meeting new people, going to college, telling wild (well, for me at least, but I’m sure it’s as normal an experience as any person gets) stories that still invariably shock the living breathing manchild in me, and basically acting like an adult, very well on their way to becoming a mature and a fine-class clockwork citizen of this society, and I’m still sitting here, practically catatonic and stuck at home, jadedly counting the crimson hairs on my head before I rip them all off out of sheer frustration, and then repeating the cycle for hours at a time, for days at a time, for weeks at…well, you get the idea.

Hell, all of my friends are doing something decent with their lives, some of whom I haven’t talked to in a rather lengthier amount of time due to their busier affairs, and all I’ve ever done is waste oxygen and continue bitching about my inane sadness like it’s such a fucking choice. Of course, people do tend to worry sometimes and ask way too many questions that I don’t have any answers to (in one situation, I found myself wracked with the conundrum of whether I should blatantly lie to my pressure-ridden grandmother or not), but really, it’s not their job to worry about me. It’s their job to worry about themselves and do good and be productive and get somewhere ahead in this stupid planet, and I’ll be there behind them every step of the way, cheering them on and assuring them and feeling proud for them and all that TED Talk crap, because it’s all I could do for now, and what they can’t ever do for me.

But sometimes, it also feels really lonely, and even lonelier when you know you couldn’t tell anyone about it, because it’s solely yours and no one else’s problem. Yes, I know, I know, I brought this solely upon myself, and I took the riskier choice when everyone pleaded for me to reconsider my decision and take the otherwise solution, and I didn’t even stop to set up any alternate plan-b’s or cheap setbacks to fall on, in the event that my original plan fails. Why? Simply because I wanted a fresh start for myself. Simply because I felt suffocated by this shrinking cul-de-sac of a place and wanted to get away from the same tiring things that I’ve been seeing for 18 years of my life ad nauseam. And simply because I want to force myself to actually believe in my capabilities, and fucking hope that for once in my life, I’ll be enough, maybe just enough, to make at least one implausible triviality into a reality.

Do I not want anyone to be disappointed in me? No. It doesn’t matter if anyone is anyway, I’m pretty much used to that already. I just don’t want to disappoint myself anymore, that’s all. I’ve always been falling behind my entire life, and I don’t think I could ever catch up.

I just wish time would go by just a little bit faster so I can finally stop holding my breath for nothing.

~*~

And he’s oh, so good, and he’s oh, so fine
And he’s oh, so healthy in his body and his mind
He’s a well respected man about town
Doing the best things so conservatively…

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Filed under Prose

outside looking in

i am the

opposite

of empty

because

everything

is within me

and nothing

is going on

outside…

and i all i

want to do is

to turn myself

inside out.

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Filed under Poetry

Spares

in x’s and o’s

and little shows

and softness that

makes me shiver

.

the bloom is sent

directly to my heart

like a vital sign

and verdancy delivered

.

in you’s and why’s

and quaint smiles nice

you’re a taker, not a giver

.

but when i’m left

with nothing else,

i find that you always

have something

for me left over.

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Filed under Poetry

I Will Be Nothing (Without Your Love)

~*~

Breathing In My Words

Let me make your lungs burn

With the fire and the smoke

Feel the wrath of the temperature

Bring your heart back up to choke

Let me make your lungs burn

With the cigarettes and the dirt

Taste the wrath of this vindication

Bring your heart back up to hurt.

~*~

The Shadow Of Who I Was

It doesn’t make sense to haunt me

If all the ghosts are still sleeping

But I’ll be your rough concrete grave

Don’t close your eyes while I’m dreaming

Your disappearing act is getting subtle

Static song whispering to the radio

I don’t ever want to see your head ache

But I have to dissect it to see what you know.

~*~

Time, Like The Lines Are Red In Between

I’ll sink into the tangled web you weave

Find safety in the voice that sinks ships

Drowning’s a mercy than to watch you leave

And arrogance will make me cold and sick

I will be nothing without the skyless sea

But you’re next to nothing to ever envy me

And come this morning when I take the abyss

The tidal waves behind you won’t ever miss.

~*~

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Filed under Poetry

here for nothing

Watching as the fire starts
I could be here all night
Never really wanted much
Only ever asked for flight
It could be you…

~*~

i have

no desire

to read

into your

messy mind

as if there

was anything

i would find

taking turns

at insults

like our

hurtful words

don’t mean

a thing

like it was

just another

bee sting

i’ll be okay

i have gravity

to keep my

heart right

where it

should be

but your ribs

are broken

and ransacked

yet don’t you

even see?

i have no

intention to

watch as you

trip again over

your own

callous tongue

but i have

to admit, it’s

actually

kind of fun.

~*~

And I could be fire
And I could be rain
And I could be caught in
Everything that’s in between…

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Filed under Poetry

A Fool That Stands For Nothing

What good is a life
When you live it ashamed?
I dream just to be halfway
But all I am is a product of
Wasted efforts and best intentions…

~*~

I should have let the rope hurt me

Before I let it fully embrace my breathing

I covered the hope with a black curtain

So I wouldn’t have to see disappointment again

What did I expect? That it would disappear?

That I have everything to gain and nothing to fear?

I fought against reason and wasted my life scared

Asking for every idle chance from a god that wasn’t there

Now they all smile sympathetically and say it’s okay

You weren’t the ones that failed, so how would you know?

Every inch of comfort is uncomfortable and sickening

And every movement from the side is insanely slow

I should have seen it coming, and damn it, I really thought I had

But my head is stubborn and twenty doses of stupid, and I wanted it bad

I act like I’m so clever and apathetic, when all I am is pathetic

I never wanted to let you down, but I did…I fucking did.

~*~

We do this while you start wondering
If disaster is what you’re built for
Will I slowly learn to accept
That I won’t have more than a life on the sidelines
Or will I always be dreaming
Of liking life from the darkness alone?

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The Wrong Setting

I feel it everyday, it’s all the same
It brings me down but I’m the one to blame
I’ve tried everything to get away
So here I go again, chasing you down again
Why do I do this? Over and over…

~*~

I’m depressed diagnostical

Five seconds away from detonating

Can’t talk about my problems

Just gotta keep on fucking smiling

.

Don’t feel it’s worth it ‘cause I’m worthless

A waste of space and a waste of pain

So I’ll count all my secrets and my losses

And drive my best friend near insane

.

I can’t sugarcoat my neurotic rants anymore

In sweeter words and fancier metaphors

I used to patch up all the dull grey spares

But I ran out of pastel and neon colours

.

I can’t sleep, so I write, I can’t write, so I sleep

Repeat the cycle until it’s bent off backwards

I can’t do something, and I can’t do nothing

Summer’s just a prolonged heatstroke reward

.

I’m suicidal sensational

In between dying and already dead

But I can’t talk about the same problematic shit

Someone please get me out of my head…

~*~

It feels like everyday stays the same
It’s dragging me down and I can’t pull away
So here I go again, chasing you down again…

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Filed under Poetry