Tag Archives: pain

Make It Count, Ilsa Lund

You cut me off, I lost my track
It’s not my fault, I’m a maniac
It’s not funny anymore, no it’s not
My heart is like a stallion
They love it more when it’s broken
Do you wanna feel beautiful?
Do you wanna?

~*~

You taste just like a brittle toothache

Wire me up and around and make me too fake

And I’ll swim inside your favourite shirt

While you’re still wearing it—now, does it hurt?

My esoteric youth’s breaking broken on your gaze

I’m surely unwise but I think I love that face

So let’s stay up early and get into trouble

Writing stupid songs to make weak hearts tremble

But this isn’t a sweet story, just another warning

On the back of a cigarette box, addicts and nicotine

Shove out all my oxygen and make me believe

That the dizziness is only a side effect of your kiss

I’m all fucked-up and high on your lows

But I’ll let you change your mind if you don’t let it go

You’re all fucked up and crashing down fast

But I’ll arrest it by the knifepoint just to make it last

Because you make me too endorphin reckless

And going for turbulence as my adrenaline amazes

The thrill of your tomorrow, slats set up for the kill

You hung me out to dry and held on to my life at will

But I’ll hold you against me like you’re my only crime

‘Cause I have forever to waste but I just don’t have the time

You taste like an existential crisis, you smell like baby stars

And I’d wear that fragrance everyday—do you mind going a bit too far?

~*~

I don’t know where you’re going
But do you got room for one more troubled soul?
I don’t know where I’m going, but
I don’t think I’m coming home
And I said, I’ll check in tomorrow if I don’t wake up dead
This is the road to ruin and we’re starting at the end…

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ativan

a mouthful of chalk,

mixed with lead and ashes

as the room spins a record

only my dazed eyes could hear

.

a mouthful of chalk,

mixed with your toxic words

my migraine plays me a film

of my self-destructive apathy.

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Asylum Fiction

Walk away, in a field of soft roses

Taint of blame and corrupted blood

Pointed fingers pricked on thorns

Carving out olden scars of liquid gold

.

Bloated bodies twisted like vineyard green

Of jealousy, of crushed lies, of purest arrogance

I’m a mere suture away from a finished letter

So cut my chest wide open and read all my sins

.

Surely, these careful feet won’t shatter on glass

That broke beneath the creaking floorboards

Ending the same—trickling droplets of roseate

Infatuated with bliss and miasma, vials of life

.

Almost unattainable, phantom cold to the touch

Picturesque memories sparsely hanging onto the

Dusty hallways crawling with naphthalene ghosts

Roaming, distorting portraits and jagged mirrors

.

And outside the garden terrace, in a field of soft roses

Porcelain bones are buried underneath, blooming with whispered prayers

From a catatonic past, long faded and frayed at the edges

Will you walk away now, or dwell until your soul withers with the seasons?

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Don’t Let Your Destiny Escape You

These hands hold up nothing but scars underneath
From swimming these oceans and learning to breathe
So often I tell them, so often they listen to me
So make me strong, there’s blood on my hands
But the killer’s not my enemy, it’s all for the sake of love, it’s all for you…

~*~

You spoke to me like an avalanche

That buried me in rocky trysts and throes

And cut my palms, you held so tight

I wished my numb hands could let you know

.

How much it meant, how much the cost

The blanketed statements against the snow

Stained with pure crimson from my lips

It was more than a hazy hurricane of bliss

.

So I’ll open up to the skies every night

Letting lucky coincidences guide the light

A thousand miles, right into your dreams

Though the hope tears my heart at the seams

.

Now destiny prays, though we both lost faith

Was it worth it, when I forgot how to breathe?

Life’s just too short, you mumbled to heaven

It was worth it for me, but would you wait again?

.

So let’s do everything later and remember it now

I’m willing to pay the price to make it out somehow

Please keep your embrace wrapped tight around me

All before you fade away into this hollow obscurity

.

As I crash beyond the cliff and my body breaks

Into a million pieces built up of all our mistakes

I don’t mind the ocean, submerged in your blue

My thoughts will sink under, falling still for you.

~*~

I can feel your hands on my fingertips
I’m seeing oh-so clear, I know it’s for you
When all we know is falling, I’ll save something
For you, you who are all alone
When everything is beautiful, when everything’s okay
Even if it’s not okay, I’ll say, “it’s all for you”…

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Dying on the Dashboard

I could only gaze in quiet longing as he crushed the cosmos beneath careful fingers, blushing blossoms reduced to nothing but bleeding pink petals; counting off to another inevitable “loves me not.”

Eyes of dusky skylines. Auburn locks, autumn leaves, idyllic motions. Quivering lips so reddishly fragile, I’m left to wonder if I even dare to bruise them.

I could never hurt you. Would you do the same?

His lithe body gently shifted closer to me, finally closing that small space between us that somehow still felt like millions of miles away to me. Though I am comforted by the steady escaping warmth of our dalliance, the tasteless, tangible absence of his unfazed thoughts left something rather hollow—still left to be selfishly desired.

Tell me, why do you ache?

A pause. An overcast sigh. Wilted cosmos falling from cold palms; bitter, bitter.

“How does someone become a ghost, or a shadow with a smoke ring halo?”

But…I don’t understand. I’m still here, aren’t I?

Aren’t I?

Gold showers of stardust softly rained from above and pirouetted with the tempestuous wind, touching pallid skin, resting on his closed eyelids, and for a moment, he was a perfect constellation—stippled freckles connecting astral whispers connecting interlocked limbs; entangled, unraveled.

“Though I can’t accept the truth, you’re so far away…”

Yet, his lamenting epistle’s final encore—so exquisitely catastrophic—it immediately shattered that ephemeral illusion and left abject phantoms in my nascent chest, constantly haunting me, cruelly suffocating my lungs, callously stealing oxygen and snatching oxytocin; away from me, from you, from us.

“Who am I to ever wake up again, if you’re gone?”

Sunlight falters and fades on the peeling dashboard, scratched with illegible marks and wistfully dressed with our eternal scars. His chagrined eyes—so deeply painted with the darkest shades of midnight—it swallowed up the moon and the stars and the galaxies whole, leaving nothing but lost questions and black holes. My whole world turns into a stunning aurora of roseate silver and palest peach and without meaning to, I accidentally blink.

“I’ll never be the same.”

When I hazily opened my reckless eyes again, he was no longer there.

Were you ever even there?

His lilting dissonant voice still reverberates, through time and space and infinities. But mine forsakes me. Echoes, shadows, sorrows—a scream.

“Let go!”

Now you’re gone…

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nightmare tripartite

i’m sorry for the way

i hurt you in my dreams

lats night, when your

afterimage turned cold

and the flutters in my

throat hardened to steel—

you had cherished me before

and yet i bluntly rejected

the only part of you that

you held out to vulnerability

.

but now i have the nerve

to weep, to explain, to seek

out for your forgiveness?

when my fingerprints are

covered with manipulation

and yours are burned off…

i only wished for you and i

to be in perfect unison;

instead i separated us

both behind layers of reality

.

as i violently jolt awake

chest constricted, breaths shallow

your disappointed face still

haunting my imagination…

i’m so sorry for the way

i didn’t hurt you at all—

oh, but i adore you too much

and i could never do such a thing.

i could never hurt you like that.

i’d never…i’d never give myself the chance.

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are you holding up just fine?

acceptance

a lead aftertaste

lies upon lies

on the tip of a

spoiling tongue,

rancid promise

vulnerable—

a lobotomy

in third degree

words worn down

devoid of sense

of meaning

of your name

poisonous retrieval

heaving and

screaming; as

vulgar infatuation

takes ahold of

me once more.

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bruises fresh like lemonade

ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀʏ ᴛᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ;
ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʜɪᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

warm blood

mixes with

cold water

and sugar,

a spoonful;

is the citrus

stinging all

your veins

as it slowly

circulates?

rusty nickel

for a glass

metal taste

and chlorine

numb out

the arid heat

and all of the

playground

taunts, sweet

like sweat

and brutal fists

picking out

hard seeds

bones crunch

like melted

ice between

their teeth

but business

is business

even when

the blowflies

come home

so won’t you

try it out and

take a sip—?

it won’t hurt,

i promise.

ᴅ̷ᴏ̷ɴ̷’̷ᴛ̷ ̷ʏ̷ᴏ̷ᴜ̷ ̷ᴛ̷ʀ̷ʏ̷ ̷ᴛ̷ᴏ̷ ̷ғ̷ᴜ̷ᴄ̷ᴋ̷ ̷ᴡ̷ɪ̷ᴛ̷ʜ̷ ̷ᴍ̷ᴇ̷;̷
̷ᴅ̷ᴏ̷ɴ̷’̷ᴛ̷ ̷ʏ̷ᴏ̷ᴜ̷ ̷ʜ̷ɪ̷ᴅ̷ᴇ̷ ̷ʏ̷ᴏ̷ᴜ̷ʀ̷ ̷ʟ̷ᴏ̷ᴠ̷ᴇ̷.̷

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Slaughterhouse Lust

Oh, how I crave to dare and distort

Flesh and curled veins embellish the hurt

Fingernails, friction, furled fire and ice

Horrors entombing, a mouthful of lies

.

Teethmarks left stale on shredded skin

A scarlet line stitch for scarlet-lured sins

Glinting dangerously close to livid steel tip

A throat once so sweet, now no longer sings

.

I am the intruder to your rationality

A romance without leisure nor apricity

I am ambrosia for the cunning and vulgar

Lock me in an embrace, I am built of barbed wires

.

You are the impostor with augmented pleas

Lethargic limerence, sometimes innocence kills

Fabricated humiliation left to the blowflies

Your hubris your downfall, your last breath a sigh

.

So crash and collide, a staccato of apologies

Left with the bullets, fired gunshot of notoriety

Puncture my lungs and just leave me to gasp

Amputate my useless limbs as you did to my useless heart

.

Oh, how I crave to deceive and disgrace

The enamel of my bones, your final resting place

You dine with the serpents, you rest with the wolves

Desecration was our only means to disguise the corrupted truth.

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stung

rub the salt

upon my heart

and watch it

twitch—like

the parody of

a steady pulse

.

it aches like

dearest agony,

but the worst

part about it is

that i live for the

reviving hurt.

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