Tag Archives: poem

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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Care Ethics

Maybe I don’t really want to care

But my mind could only lie so much

To convince the rest of my humanity

That my hard apathy’s set in stone

‘Cause now you’re chiseling it all away

And sculpting a different kind of truth

I swear, the tears in my eyes is just

From all the dust that you’re kicking up

Maybe I shouldn’t really care, I know

That I could weigh myself with worries

And still be rendered powerless to this fate

You’re too far away from my reach

But why am I complaining now, when

I was the one who built this pedestal

For you to stand on with your marble feet

When I know you won’t even care at all?

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amnesiac

11:15 PM, 04.12.19.

i remember

how you used to have

a place in my

memory

but i’m so forgetful

and the shades

are fading

away to a dull grey

like it’s a static

vacation

turned off to

a lost radio station

and you knew,

you knew…

didn’t you?

um, i can’t recall it

anymore—but

all i know is that

i’m fucked up

i fucked up

i fucked it all up.

and i ruined

everything

we had going on

in that warm

summer conversation

where you made

sense, and i

made amends

and the music wasn’t

bad and flat like

a can of unopened

lime soda—

now nothing will ever

be the same again.

i wonder

i wonder much.

i wandered too much.

my head hurts.

everything hurts now.

it’s weird,

but my thoughts

are so numb

and i’m starting to

forget again…

i’m sorry.

who are you?

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Nothing But Fairytales

Hear the strains of my moribund curiosity

Ringing distantly, an unanswered call I’m hanging

Around, not by the end of a swinging rope

But by the end of a clever line my mouth seems to spin

Into a smirk, hiding another bad fabrication

I’m sleeping with the giants and stealing their gold

Blind eyes wide open, ahead of the broken

Well I’m not a good person, or so I’ve always been told

But I didn’t murder saints just to be hailed

As the martyr of the century, though I have no sins

Only minor mistakes, augment that major fourth

For me, won’t you? I know that I’m falling

For a trick called existence, just the cause and effect

Oxygen hallucination, black out the nihilism unaware

And hold my breath for me, I’m not bitter out of spite

I’m just being realistic: if no one gives a damn, then was I even there?

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on the subject of side glances leading to an unexpected intuition…

the petty assumptions

will do you no good

your mind’s still a mess

leave it as you should

he says it’s mental

that’s right for a change

the thoughts you can’t feel

but you could explain

there’s already one

why are you still looking?

hope has a cost, and

you’ll pay for the broken

so prove yourself wrong now

he doesn’t know yet

but don’t leave all that out, and

dare to find out and forget.

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Ataraxia

You’re the anchor

In my wrists

The gleaming blade

In my pendulum

.

You’re the cavity

In my quiet smile

The heave of my

Vulnerable pericardium

.

You’re the torn skin

In my cold lips

The glint of light

In my glass shards

.

You’re the smudged dust

In my spectacles

The blurry red eyes

In my polaroid discards

.

You’re the voice

Inside my empty lungs

The sudden curses

Under my breath

.

You’re the comatose

In my hazeless dream

The last vaccine before

Infection leads to death.

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dizzying drizzles

face the sun, and i’ll keep the rain

well, it’s been a long time coming now

this summertime taste of faintest petrichor

and childishly reminiscing faded epochs

mind not the cold fever and stranger looks

i will dance to rhythms of our favourite songs

flumes washing away the plastic headaches

and these constant tremors shaking my hands

like quiet earthquakes—the crevices in between

falling into my thoughts, breaking out from

lukewarm routine and tepid temperatures

crashing down hazily into sluggish endeavours

but i won’t melt away into a puddle just yet

i’ll go pick up your sunshine from the ground

and we can slip away into pastel phantasms

where i’ll be sure to keep your laughter safe and sound.

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Monstrous Things

I built the foundations of my flesh

On relapses and fake fiction

A nightmare dressed in scarlet letters

Drag me out in recanted desperation

.

I cut my teeth on reincarnation—

To live, to die, to leave again

.

Existing is as bitterly blistering as the arsenic

Threaded through my veins, replacing

Control, slowly decaying bones and plastic

.

I pretend that hope’s not mere optimistic ignorance

And swerve before the collision hits my ribs

And failure decides to forge placid smiles

Of jaded reassurances and arrogant bliss

Here’s the nerve to tell me how I should feel…

.

I shouldn’t, should I? It’s all the same

If so, then tell me I’m wrong; undaunted and

Abrasive—ignite me with purest prosopagnosia

.

As schizophrenic choirs no longer chant askance

Neither I, nor you, never this hell above

.

It’s all pointless, nothing but viscid dromomania

.

I built myself on silken stagnancy,

Desiring beyond the pale, euphonic amnesia

And torn down with macabre allegories—

Are you be ashamed to be one of the monstrous things?

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stitches and cosmonauts

9:09 PM.

this picnic blanket

is meant for

two

stars tailored

together

into constellations

spelling out

l o v e

and music made to be

sang out loud

to the countless

infinites

and ringing laughter

and embraces

still left for

the both of us…

but you’re just another

phantom dream

coalescing

without a second

thought, and

i’m just a

lonely figure

covered in shadows

and comet trails

and this fickle

cold weather

as i write

cliché poetry in

the dim nothingness,

still hoping and

waiting

for warmth,

for a lost chance,

for a picnic blanket

meant for

you.

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Fill The Void

Started with a little bit
Now I don’t know how to quit
Always feel inadequate
Same way that my daddy did
Mama told me not to try
And I should have taken her advice
And now I’m all twisted
When it’s all gone, I miss it…

~*~

I’ll delude myself with one more week

As if that would make any difference

Feel the rush of false accomplishment

Before the eleventh hour wears it off

.

Control drags furious scars down my limbs

Daring to tear past my cracked pretence

But I just want it to take me by the hand now

And lead me towards that pre-dug grave

.

For a minute of rest, I’ll shut myself

Close my lost eyes and simply throw it all away

The key, the lock, what I’ve worked for

That pointless persistence only fools dream of

.

When the spinning cycle makes me too dizzy

And my dragged footsteps are going nowhere

It’s much better off to be prepared for the worst

I apologise, it’s okay—I’ll be going home soon

.

Because this is always all the same, over and over

I’m tired of being tired, and I’m tired of being me

Distracting myself just so I could make it out alive

When I know there’s nothing left, so why should I be sorry?

~*~

I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Else that gets me through the day
Till I find another way
I’ll fight just to do something
I’ll fight ’cause I got nothing
Even if I lose again, I can’t quit…

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