Tag Archives: personal

take me away, sunray

you make me

feel so stupid

for a moment

i barely mind

.

painting all of

the memories in

my head and i

begin to unwind

.

you make me

feel okay—just

for a second

when i breathe

.

but darling,

that smile of yours

is gonna be the

fucking end of me.

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Filed under Poetry

Woozy

Crazy

I’m fucking

Crazy

And nothing

Else

Really matters

I just

Want to sleep

For a

Million years

Without

Thinking about

All of the

Consequences

Awaiting me

In sunrise gloom

I just want

To lay in my bed

And think

About nothing else

But nothing

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Root Canal

I wonder just how sweet

You’d taste without restrictions

Maybe I was this stupid, I’d

Take the chance and let you in

Hell, maybe I have to be this stupid

Just to actually take the chance

Because the rest of me has always

Been rational and restless

But just never enough to let you go

I’m a bit slow, aren’t I, honey?

Should I let you know what you mean?

Even if that means I crash and burn

And when daybreak crashes over

My thick skull, I’ll scream loud

Enough to wake up the entire world

For what I didn’t know I’ve done

And even though that would

Be the case, I still stupidly wonder

At the very edge of all my wildest dreams

I wonder just how sweet you really are

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Fending Off the Barflies

Hard to breathe when you lose control
Hard to live with the words unspoken
I walk away ’cause I got no home
Empty hole and my body’s shaking…

~*~

My brain

Is an uninhabited

Island, dizzy

As a fog

Eclipses over it

And makes me

Amused

Like laughing gas

Raining down

And dancing

At the tip

Of my reckless

Tongue

Fuzzy images

And the thought

Of not ever thinking

About tonight

Or tomorrow

Or anything

At all

Just me

And my drink

And the stranger

Hazy in front

Of me

Stepping out

To stumble

Outside for a bit

In search of

A greener face

Just another day

To erase

Everything else

Impulsive and

Derisive

Spinning around

And not just

The bottles

In front of me

But my

Own foolish vision

As well, I know

It’s going

To turn out

Really bad after

This high

And the fumes

Will blow

Over soon to

Reveal a mess, but

Morning regret

Just kinda

Feels so

Damn nice…

~*~

I’m in too deep, I sold my soul
I’m out of reach and I can’t let go
I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble
I made my way, a dead end road
I can’t turn back so I walk alone
I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble…

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hexanol

i really miss all those lonely nights with you. you wore the moon as a funny mask, and i always laughed at how absurd it was. your perfume reminded me of freshly-cut grass and stardust mixed together, and i was always intoxicated by it. we had nothing else to our names but the purely daydreamed life we couldn’t have together, and the uncertainty of never knowing what the other one is thinking about. all i know is that you’re thinking about someone who’s not me, and all you know is that maybe you’ll never really know who i am and you’ll be fine all the same. it’s arduously painful to miss something so trite and pointless, but i still let it get inside my head every night just to keep me from sleeping, because i don’t even remember what i once thought about before all of this happened anymore. i used to be so cynically clever, both steps stuck to the ground with my bruised hands trapped between my knees. now i’m just another annoying cliche, just another forgotten epilogue in a hopelessly terrible book no one would stop to pick up and read. and only for you. god, only ever for you. because i don’t think my battered mind could still afford to miss anything more than this subtle madness. especially not the plasticine future i’m fully aware i could never truly have for myself.

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Filed under Prose

makes sense

Your past-times consisted of the strange
And twisted and deranged
And I love that little game you had
Called crying lightning
And how you like to aggravate the
Ice-cream man on rainy afternoons…

~*~

thought i had it

waged forever

for a single day

of conversation

.

keeping you at

arm’s length for

another chance

of redemption

.

but i can’t make

up my mind now

i want only that

shade of green

.

and you won’t

share your hues

for the sake of

being seventeen

.

i’ll be unused

synecdoches

an example of

your whole part

.

but you’re just too

pretty to describe

i’ll read a dictionary

in the bleakest dark

.

twenty-six and

maybe then, still

is this sensibility

too immature?

.

do you want a

lifetime together

or something

more than pure?

.

but i guess

this is forever

even though

it’s not the best

.

everything is just

too confusing

and now you’re the

only one left.

~*~

With folded arms you occupy the bench like toothache
Stood and puff your chest out like you never lost a war
And though I try so not to suffer the indignity of a reaction
There was no cracks to grasp or gaps to claw…

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Filed under Poetry

distemper

heatstroke

urges resisting

chewed-up mind

simple cavity

extraction

.

ink blots

surface haze

tension; still

hold, hold, hold

eruption

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08.12.19

Why couldn’t I just be smart.

The kind of smart that keeps me from thinking about doing things for my own sake too much, so that I don’t get blamed for being selfish every time I inevitably fall into failure. The kind of smart that doesn’t flat-out disappoint my entire family (which they constantly have to remind me of and rub in my face, day in and day out) and actually gets me somewhere, wherever the fuck they want me to wind up doing. The kind of smart that society glorifies and desperately wants me to play along with; practical with just a perfectly balanced dose of ignorant. The kind of smart that will get me as far as getting a pathetic college degree so I could kiss ass to other people in some boring fucking office job or something along that line—just as long as it pays out well—and nothing more, nothing less. The kind of smart that’s just about like anyone else surviving out there.

Because that’s all everyone gives a shit about nowadays, right? Getting their time and effort and money’s worth off of me, just like every other offspring they’ve casually released into this world without much ado about nothing, like we actually begged them to exist in this miserable state? Otherwise all the other trivial things I could do are just unimpressive and completely goddamn useless, because it won’t get me anywhere good, apparently. It’s all in the situation. No one would ever be free enough for anyone to chase for their stupid shitty pipe dreams, except for the ones who get quote unquote lucky enough to be born into it one way or another. The big picture is, there’s really no happiness nor contentment in this kind of life, only paying your dues and shutting up about it. Whatever, I get it. Everyone’s suffering it out and it’s all fucking relative from here, innit.

But ah, what the hell do I know? I’m just another useless lazy moron who does nothing but sit around on their ass all day and complain as if they’ve got it worse, which they clearly don’t. What a dumb fucking piece of shit. I’m just another part of the whole problem, anyway. Overprivileged hypocritical scum like me deserve to die already. Fuck it.

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Filed under Uncategorized

hinged

unskilled hands

work brush

work strings

work pen

to bad results

.

uncreative mind

plain person

simply no good

art plus work but

it never works

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Filed under Poetry

mad now, like i was before

it’s in my head

cracking like gold

beaten-down

submissive lie

increase tenfold

not mine, not mine

self-respect the

problem i lack

the saccharine

you quietly have but

please not pleased

did you find out

can i get a place?

probably not

it’s too good for me

truth spelling out

a kind of agony that

i don’t enjoy but

i guess we can see

the things that i said

it will never be me

i’d rather be you

you’d rather be dead

so fucked-up and sold

you’re in my head

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Filed under Poetry