Tag Archives: opposite

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?

6 Comments

Filed under Poetry

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

with a g

I’ll be the silver lining around your fence
Used to protect yourself from all the world
And its sharp teeth ’cause my open hand
And heart think you belong with me…

~*~

i’m made of

cigarette smoke

and whiskey

mixed with

liquid genocide

i’m made of

dead butterflies

in gloom boys’ stomachs

and a penchant for

red tape lies

.

you’re made of

sunlight haze

and lemonade twists

beyond a slice of

raspberry cake

you’re made of

quinine clemency

and natural blue

oh, that sideways smile

is all it takes

.

until i’m

unraveled bare

like a torn ragdoll

with a childish whim

and left in stitches

this candid spell

drowning ocean eyes

dear charlatan heart

you make a cynic

love the sweet bliss.

~*~

You were the light at the end of the hall
I followed bright signals sent my way
Because I’m steady day by day
So now I’m swimming in slow seconds with you…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

What’s Wrong?

It’s all overgrown but you’ll never know
Take the mirror from the wall so I can’t see myself at all
Don’t wanna see another damn inch of my skull
Forget the poems of saints and ghosts, I’m the one I fear the most
Little did I know that I was only crying wolf…

~*~

Lied faceless identities and lost nameless bones

Broken mirrors romancing with concrete stones

Low voices muttering in the middle of the night

Back against the wall, turned under black lights

Standing in the midst of destruction that rebirths

Sacrificing sanctity for the sake of scars to revert

.

I will be what’s wrong with the world.

.

A hundred metaphors deleted in boldface type

Swearing for the shadows, cursing lack of spite

For no one envisions a future with personal ties

Because tongues can only soar out when they lie

An arsenal of armory, walls built to keep them out

Convinced by the paranoia and mitigated by doubt

.

I will be what’s wrong with the world.

.

So call out the name that’s censored in every news station

Immortalised only in faded graffiti and youthful separation

So seek on and find now what can only be seen by the blind

To a place where wrong is right, and the heart beats the mind

I won’t be the marching guide, the black parade you’ll follow

But in a reality of common opposites and moral contradictions, I know

.

I am what’s wrong with the world.

~*~

No I never sold my soul, no I never sold mine
I know it’s so wrong but I’m so far gone
Don’t need you to tell me I’m so cynical
Quit being so over-skeptical
Don’t need a metaphor for you to know I’m miserable…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

I wanna be the tattoo ink that swims down through the needle in your skin

I wish I was poisonous
Like a bottomless sound
Like a violent drug
Do you remember the knife I kept?
The sharper it got, the more
You wanted me to use it…

~*~

The night sings in slow motion, a stagnant riot of a melancholy latin church chorus resonating past the intricate stained glass windows, the flourishing finale guitar lick of a spanish melody that makes one’s heart leap past the curtains of complete composure. It was a rare opportunity to pause from life and a welcoming silence to embrace, and I was taciturn and brooding as I rested leisurely by the window ledge, smoking a Cuban cigar and contemplating panoply discussions rather thoughtfully. The breeze pushed past my weaning figure roughly like an impatient passerby, and for a moment, I appeared to teeter like a child on a seesaw, yet the fall at the other end never arrives to weigh down and elevate me back into several tangible seconds of an innocent bliss. There was no avoirdupois balance to bring my poised dangling toes back to touching the soft cool earth, apart from my own sanity, which always felt to me as gossamer as Arachne’s bone-white sumptuous silken hair.

And that’s all it takes for me to fall.

You weren’t there. You were never there. Last night you awoke in a disgusting bathroom stall on the underground tube, heaving your guts out to the non-too-catchy tune of the robotic announcer’s grumbles of ″Mind the gap.″ blaring through ancient dusty static speakers. Today you clutched a lock of your chewed trichobezoar hair along with a half-full bottle of Smirnoff and fell asleep under the kitchen table, next to the cupboards containing the jar of my uningested sleeping pills and your used ammonia and muriatic acid. But I was there. I was always there. I was the one who drove all night to find you and ran through four red lights to get you to the emergency room, and I was the one who spent several nights in a filthy cell at the police precinct, and paid in cash for both hospital bill and bail alike. Tonight, I’m the one who delicately carried you up a flight of spiral stairs and tucked you in meticulously on the cool bed that I fixed, and cleaned up the mess you made on the checkered linoleum tiles downstairs. You wrecked, I repaired. We cancelled each other out.

Just another usual midnight scene in this household.

I took a long drag and blew a sophisticated whorl of hazy plumes in spiced smoke, as the stars behind their screen of fumes appeared to shimmer a faltering skeletal grey, like a waning spectral hallucination. I always pondered dear, why our tongues, once a tangled and byzantine affair wherewithal, akin to the finest spool of golden thread, are now mondegreen against silver blades, screeching as it collides with the other, unpleasant and tinnitus-inducing. I was a halcyon sun. You were a hedonistic black hole. Prayers against passion, felicity to furtive, love over lust, gambol or glamour, inspiring despotically versus indulging decadently. It was always imbrications of forbearance, an insalubrious provocation of two people on the opposite side of the boxing ring, fists clenched, knuckles raised, prepared to throw the first punch with a ring of the bell. I wondered why I was so attracted to a dangerous force. I wonder now if I am a magnet, repelled by the same force, gravitating towards my polar opposite, difficult to leave once it pulls me into its charms and mysterious allures.

…No more shall I be fettered to you.

With a lassitude I wasn’t quite aware I possessed, I senselessly bit down on the tattoo of your flowery name embedded into my dermis, tearing with crooked dull stares onto the unflinching moon and gnashed dull teeth tearing numbly at the surface. I kept at the insane task until all that’s left are rancid shreds of muscle and skin, a rusty stormed bleeding out of oxidised scarlet dissolving against indelible black, the wound gaping wide like a mouth frozen in a scream. I didn’t flinch nor whimper, neither yelled nor reacted, throughout the immense pain of it all. I may have cried, but only because the winds were getting pervasive against my trophy eyes, and every droplet of tears that fell on the raw savaged cut stung badly like the astringent words you slurred to me before you passed out. With every bite I tore out of my maimed arm, it felt like an absolution, the atonement of your sins on my understudy role. My redolence was always an envious fragrance, but somehow your alcohol breath and sultry sweat manages to linger chokingly, stubbornly sticking in my skin like this godforsaken tattoo. It was all for you, all for you and more, do you understand?

But not everything is permanent, sweetheart. Not this night, not your name writ in pain…not my blinded sentiments for you.

I finally ceased with my thermonuclear breakdown, quit rending myself apart, physically and emotionally-wise. It was no use, yet I felt strangely cathartic. The effect was a chill down my spine that jolted lightning and candy-coloured breaths through my frosted oxygen, a shudder of a bittersweet one-night stand under the deathless Vegas lights, a morbid fascination of an angel standing solemnly in the morgue. The searing pain began to settle tauntingly in my tattered nerves, and it seethed as I wiped the blood off my lips, quite familiar to the taste of it all, reverting the vibrant colour of my mouth into its usual sickly pale pallor, creating an eerie Rorschach test of a splattered heart imprinted on my ivory-washed sleeves. These wounds I inflicted on myself shall heal. This ragged white shirt you bought for me on my birthday two years ago, I can drown in chlorine and detergent to get rid of the stains. The scar tissue that will be left, I can learn to tolerate, to ignore, to simply accept and live with. I am, at the best of the optimistic prospects despite my elsewhere wayward actions, free.

So why does the thought of you still fucking hurt?

But no. You were still resting in my bed, corporeal and very much concatenated to reality, and I can’t erase you like I did so to your inked name ever so brutally. You looked so goddamn beautiful as you slept through everything cozily, soundly dreaming of a million raining halo lights of neon glow in oblivion; and I was bloodied, jaded, and sunken as I watched the remaining shards of my waxen mutilated skin flutter downwards like grotesque snowflakes in dessication. I leaned in closer for a better view, almost losing my hold on the ledge and falling, as the scintilla pieces of a fractal violence and shorn sadism began billowing downwards elegantly and dispersed murmurously into the open salty breeze. Soon it shall waft out and travel farther than I’ve ever been, to a faraway fantasy land where some foolish child will stick their quivering tongue out and catch the puzzle pieces of the letters of your name between their grinning teeth, a poetic crassness. Fragments of you, that’s all that remains.

And that’s all that’s sempiternal.

~*~

I was lying to you
But you were lying too
So what’s left to do, what’s left to say?
Stop making friends, just us
I’ll decompose with you…

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Highway Runaway

If you were me, you’d run away

This sky ain’t worth a million pay

Take your luggage onto traffic

To a fitful tantrum, I will not stick

.

If I were you, I’d hide that away

Indigo nights are better than grey

Place your faith in intersection

To a cool conniption, a resolution.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

a poem in the key of e flat

we shared

a similar tune

two kindred

souls in song

but when we

opened our

mouths to

duet, the

lyrics came

out wrong.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

☆ that you ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

true enough that

you may be

a son of chaos

and anarchy

and i’d lie if i

didn’t admit a

daughter of grace

and elegancy

but discord has

order, without it,

our very universe

cannot be

and there’s a

certain clumsiness

to poise and

secret mystery

true enough,

that you and i

are as parallel

as can be

but perhaps

that paves the way

for starcrossed

destiny.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

★ southern ☆

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

poles of red and gold

keep spinning on

the ends that i hold

singing a song

poles of blue and silver

keep spiralling on

the ribbons you tether

cascading and long

opposite directions

upwards downfall

gravity anomaly

separate wall to wall

highest low blows

different games

continents of snow

share common names

northern southern

to meet you with i

either you fall down

or i attempt to fly.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations

☆ me, your ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

me,

you are not.

i am marked

by the devil

i am a wicked child.

you have feathers

on your shoulder

you save mankind.

i rip the grass

tear aesthetics

and loathe the rain.

you bloom in steps

dance on puddles

you’re floral and fading.

i cannot have you

despite i crave

i am a man of taint.

while you wish me

to change into

colours of pastel paint.

black and white,

day and night,

wrong and right,

you and i.

you,

i am not.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Southern Constellations