Tag Archives: pretend

the brightness of life

and at the end of

this asphyxiated

sunrise, what do

we have to gain?

was it a sense of

clarity, or simply

arrogant shame?

.

cross the threshold

hitting dead centre

the dark flags that

sheathed your eyes

will taint gold vision

with another kind of

negative space answer

.

because what was

left to pain, but all

the ones that were

cruelly left behind?

pretending empathy

while erasing names

off our fragile minds

.

too far lost to save

and recovering only

twisted histories and

rewriting our miseries

do you feel that sense

of serendipity, or do you

simply feel the same?

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(Don’t) Turn Back To Me

Somewhere along the way, I somehow convinced myself to play

The waiting game like it meant a thing, like I wouldn’t lose anyway

You were the part of my mind still clouded with nostalgia

But lately, it’s now been replaced with a nicotine-grey paranoia

.

Still, you kept me hanging on with all your hooked apologies

And dragged me on for miles despite having nothing but weak excuses

How foolish I truly was, I thought the violent bruises looked pretty

A vicious reminder of the time we spent—a fucked-up memento mori

.

But now I’m getting really tired of having to constantly check in

Obsessing over your absence, getting caught up in that empty nothing

Somehow, that’s the only thing you’re always consistent with

But the rest of this connection is a mess…was it all just friendly bullshit?

.

I understand that you’re busy, and I have no right to be hurt at all

But a sliver of conscience would have been nice, instead of the way you stall

I don’t even know why I’m still trying to paint myself as the bad guy

Spitting poison in my sharpened words in an attempt to catch your eye

.

But maybe it’s better off this way, and maybe I should stop pretending

That I’ll be worth a single damn to you, that I was ever even anything

I just wasted my breath when you never listened, we’ve done this all before

Though I guess this time, I just don’t have a place in your pretty plastic life anymore.

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Dumb Little Distractions

I can’t sleep.

And I don’t want to sleep.

Although dreams are

The best reality I have

Right now, it’s also easier

To delude and distract

Myself thinking that

Time will go by considerably

Slower, if I were to stay

Awake for the entire night,

And come next morning,

I’ll be too desensitised

And too tired to even worry

About the very things that

Plagued me to insomnia—

A perfect irony.

For now, I’ll laugh myself numb.

For now, I’ll sip cold coffee

And gorge myself on sugary

Treats and asinine videos

So that later today,

I could pretend that I’m still alive.

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The Devil’s Vision

Must I denounce myself as a monster while you refuse to see the one growing inside you?” ~Hannibal Lecter

~*~

He drips blood from the corners of his sightless eyes

And wipes it off silently, praying no one has seen his lies

But the devil drew smiles just as he drew out red water

Devour the mind and heart, teeth a grim rorschach splatter

“What do you see?” asks he, as the clock begins unraveling

He pretends the blindfold is tight enough to obscure sin

Enemies will flee as their friends are turned upside-down

The blunt instrument glints, a masquerade of gruesome frowns

And at the edge of the madness, the verge of suspended hell again

The devil sits with discretion, adjusting his veil of human skin

As he tends to the fear, crying in vain, losing their very humanity

And the devil is hungry, oh-so hungry—“do…you…see…?”

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Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry

You’re All Phases And Dark Sides Like The Moon, But You’re Not As Bright (I Would Turn This Into An Extended Play But My Band Hates Me, I Have Mediocre Musical Talent, And No Record Label To Beg)



Phase One: I Don’t Know About You But I’m Ready To Move To San Diego(‘s Disneyland© Theme Park and Resort)

[EXTRACT: WE DO IT IN THE DARK WITH SMILES ON OUR FACES
WE’RE DROPPED AND WELL-CONCEALED IN SECRET PLACES
W E  D O N ‘ T  F I G H T  F A I R]

To all the divorcees in the dancefloor

Singing songs for poor dumped hearts

Won’t you come and take a million pictures

Of my latest 100 billboard-hit chart?

I’m not famous, but I’m on your magazine

Load up the ammunition baby, take it in

The articles say that I’ll save your life

But all I’ll do is steal your brain-bored wife

So I don’t give a shit about your ideal weekends

But buy my merch, I’ll be your best friend

And don’t pretend you’ll just forget about me

When I’m bitching about how everything’s a travesty…



Phase Two: She’s Got A 10 PM Audition Starring At The Back of A Costco Store

[EXTRACT: I’LL KEEP YOU WARM AND WON’T ASK WHERE YOU’VE BEEN
WITH YOUR BACKLESS BACK DRESS SOAKED TO THE SKIN
W H E N  A L L ‘ S  S A I D  A N D  D O N E  T H E Y ‘ R E  S C R A M B L I N G]

West coast smokers choking to death

And a trashy nosebleed is good for the health

Kiss it hard in the back alley like a desperate man

Blow out your sixteen candles with a gun

(and paint the town an ugly shade of party-red)

.

You’re all grown up and ready to waste a week

Looking for a dive bar to drown shots cheap

But the boys never liked you, Mr. Barman

Now won’t you sleep this out again with no one?

(the insults are only as bad as good guys get)

.

I swear I won’t swear, my mouth is clean

I go to church on Sundays and I’m never mean

I swear I won’t swear, I know that it’s all true

Your secrets are all worthless but at least I’ve got you—

(completely wrapped around my finger)



Phase Three: Warm Sympathy Is Just Cold Sarcasm For Wimps

[EXTRACT: I KNOW YOU’VE HEARD ALL THIS BEFORE
LET’S HEAR IT FOR AMERICA’S SWEETHEARTS
I  M U S T  C O N F E S S ,  I ‘ M  I N  L O V E  W I T H  M Y  O W N  S I N S]

I don’t love you at all but I love your therapy

You talk like you’re going deaf, so won’t you lie to me?

.

If it’s not about comforting then I wouldn’t even care

You look even messier today, did you do something with your hair?

.

I said I’d write a million poems about you but I got carpal tunnel

Just like how you said you’d give me a taste of first-class hell

.

We both smiled like a girl’s best friends, only it’s all fake

And we didn’t believe we could mine such coal-black mistakes

.

I don’t love you at all but you scare the devil out of me

But I wouldn’t call you an angel, don’t you just love my honesty?



Phase Four: Children’s Nursery Rhymes Are Really Letting Themselves Go These Days

[EXTRACT: MY SONGS KNOW
WHAT YOU DID IN THE D A R K
S O  L I G H T  ‘ E M  U P]

I ‘ l l  S T U M P  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S T U M P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  w i t h  i d i o t ’ s  s y n c r a s i e s

I ’ l l  s T u M p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S t U m P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  i f  y o u ’ l l  a s k  m e  t o  b e

I ’ l l  s t u m p  y o u ,  u o y  p m u t s  l l ‘ I

M y  n a m e ’ s  n o t  P a t r i c k  b u t  b a b e ,  I ’ m  a  s t a r

B u t  i f  y o u  t h i n k  t h a t  t h i s  j o k e ’ s  g o i n g  t o o  f a r

T h e n  I ’ l l  d u m p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  D U M P  y o u .



Phase Five: If My Brain Could Actually Think For Itself, What Would It Say?

[EXTRACT: IF I COULD GET MY SHIT TOGETHER
I WANNA RUN AWAY AND NEVER SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN
N E V E R  S E E  A N Y  O F  Y O U  A G A I N]

I’m

                    too

fucking

                             tired

           for

                                               all

       this

                                                                 bullshit.

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Don’t Turn The Tables Sweetheart, You’re Gonna Dizzy Yourself Sick

Well, she’s not bleeding on the ballroom floor
Just for the attention, ‘cause that’s just ridiculously odd
Well, she sure is going to get it, here’s the setting
Fashion magazines line the walls now, the walls line the bullet holes
Have some composure and where is your posture? Oh, no, no!
You’re pulling the trigger, pulling the trigger all wrong…

~*~

You act like you’ve got a pretty laugh stuck in your ragged throat

Proud of the way you dirty your skin, proud of the way you gloat

About the veins, they’re just veins, they’re just another empty sea

I don’t want to swim, I don’t want to sink, I don’t want to censor me

.

Can you see the way I twist my hair into a noose that I’ll never hang?

Well the knots have hurt my fingers and for a moment my hands stung

All this beauty left to be romantic about, but sometimes nature is a bore

The bayside’s wayside in screaming trees, sometimes nature is a whore

.

When we did it, it was funny, it was temporary, it was just a tragedy

Coming from the cheap seats and you clapped for the longest irony

Now it’s your turn, it’s not funny, it’s forever, it’s a bruised symphony

We paid the balcony scene just to watch a charcoal sob for a penny

.

And your lips spill with attention and gush that you don’t want any

Paint the crooked crucifix on your pallid cheeks with bitter and honey

Now all the hypocrites adore you, blood-type A of sycophantic rude

Play a victim with a rifle to their shoulders, act as if it’s how you should

.

Now the trigger smiles so happy, does that bullet taste like sweet candy?

Do the fucking polaroids show off the best sides of your broken inhumanity?

Make us sorry that this reality didn’t fit your peach-twill dress and sanity

Was it your idea to put the slit in your throat so you can pretend that it’s originality?

~*~

Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention!
Give me envy, give me malice, baby, give me a break!
When I say shotgun, you say wedding: shotgun, wedding, shotgun, wedding!
She didn’t choose this role, but she’ll play it and make it sincere
So you cry, you cry (give me a break) but they believe it from the tears
And the teeth right down to the blood at her feet…

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split-second thoughts in a night that never seems to end

I float there, transcend time, I wanna capture it accurately
I wanna know what the color of the blood was
Spilling out from the tarp onto the concrete
I wanna write it all down so I can always remember
If you could see it up close how could you ever forget?
How senseless death, how precious life
I wanna be there when the bullet hit…

~*~

the room seems to get colder. is it just me or am i dying?

fingers locked on empty biro, waiting for something bad to happen

“what are you so scared of?” the bones in my body scream

like i wasn’t simply bleeding, like it wasn’t just a dream

well, i’m scared that i’m useless and i’m fragile and i’m weak

and i can’t ever justify myself for everything that i feel

i’m scared that i don’t know what my brain is telling me

that i need some medication just to feel a little more sorry

and i don’t want to submerge and i don’t want to stay up

they tell me to cut it out but instead all i hear is cut

and i’ve had enough of scars and i’ve had enough of crying

but the windows are all dark and i’m still alone not trying

to change what i can conceal at the tip of my tongue

and the words that i’m struggling, still struggling to understand

and i create these bold distractions and pretend for a while

that hell isn’t a few steps over, ready to greet me with a smile

but when the truth comes crashing down, it’s all i can do not to crack

not to break myself overthinking and bend until it hurts my back

because there comes a point where enough is not enough

and the walls start closing in and the ceiling starts to laugh

so i step outside and wish for rain, but just like everything else

i ever wished for and wanted, it doesn’t come true to end this hell

and so i gaze at the stars to comfort me and simply calm me

and so i gaze at the stars to keep my mind off suicide

and remind me of the times when i didn’t have to wonder

why i look at the distant lights in those times when i remember

that the dark is nothing to be scared of except when i’m inside

waiting for the final answer that turns out to be a lie

as my coffee’s getting cold and my skin is getting tighter

i’m suffocating with each breath and each burn on the cigarette lighter

my twitches getting frantic and my pulse is a heart attack

beating to rhythms of “when will someone come to take me back?”

no, i can’t sing to save my life; i can’t even save my life

‘cause i’ve spent it all on daily lessons about wasting out the fight

and i’m still standing outside losing, when the sun overtakes the horizon

with the only force left in the world and the energy to go on

but i’ll wait for the end, even if that takes more than a million years

until i’ve turned into a monument and crumbled but the ending isn’t near

because i’ve contemplated and i’ve meditated and i’ve prayed to every god

but my eyes are a little blurrier and my palms impaled on metal rods

striking lightning, never raining, an automatic impulse sleeping in my bed

everything sounds a little too schizophrenic when they’re all talking in my head

so when i finally find the strength to step back into that empty room so cold

i found that the temperature was the same deadly dull, and i still do as i’m told

and i’m still tired of everything even if everything’s just a fictional retelling

in my head, in my sleep, as i dream, as i wake, as i live…is it just me or am i dying?

~*~

I felt the burden of murder
It shook the earth to the core
Felt like the world was collapsing
Then we heard him speak
“Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?
Can I still get into heaven if I kill myself?”

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Ruby Woo

Sit around waiting for the spark to fade
You can add another face to your pity parade
I can’t believe it, I’ve never felt so cheated
Knock me down, it was all pretend
You set me back up just to do it again…

~*~

I hope that you’re proud

Making fun of the boys on the street

That bruised their knees

And couldn’t get back up again after

While you swallow yourself

Whole, lipstick girl with a lipstick heart

Defending her own jealous

“I’ll be happy forever and ever and ever”

.

I hope that you’re proud

For making fun of the people that couldn’t

Stitch their lungs as well

As you probably thought you fucking did

While no air leaves your

Open lips, lipstick girl with a lipstick brain

Pretending that her beauty

Is nothing more than an ugly kind of pain.

~*~

What am I supposed to do, uh oh
When she’s so damn cold, like twenty below?
That girl, that girl, she’s such a bitch
I tell myself I can handle it…

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pain(less)

Midday delusions
Of pushing this out of his head
Maybe out of his mind…

~*~

you didn’t use to hurt

but they said it was okay

so you made up some smiles

and you hid it all away

but the smiles have bled out

and your secret is all they could say

you didn’t use to hurt yourself

but you just wanted to feel okay.

~*~

All alone he turns to stone
While holding his breath half to death
Terrified of what’s inside…

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Wrong Weekend

03.10.18. Saturday, 3:02 AM. Manhattan, New York.


He woke up from dreaming and put on his shoes
Started making his way past 2 in the morning
He hasn’t been sober for days
Leaning now into the breeze
Remembering Sunday, he falls to his knees…


It’s three in the morning when I lock my heart behind the closet doors

And then I take another drink so I could forget what it was fighting for

Everything is louder when the sounds of a life once held are long gone

I’m crashing and cresting like the tidal waves of this bathroom tantrum

I’m looking for someone that has disappeared from newspaper tragedies

Hey mister, have you seen this person in the photo that was never taken?

It’s another hazy day wasted, but I guess I’ll go home just to burn it down

Write a song on my six-stringed guitar, and I wonder where you are again.


Forgive me, I’m trying to find
My calling, I’m calling at night
I don’t mean to be a bother
But have you seen this girl?
She’s been running through my dreams
And it’s driving me crazy, it seems…



07.16.18. Saturday, 3:57 AM. Manchester, England.


I’m not coming back (forgive me)
I’ve done something so terrible
I’m terrified to speak (I’m not calling, I’m not calling)
But you’d expect that from me
I’m mixed up, I’ll be blunt, now the rain is just…


It’s three in the morning when I put on my coat and slipped past the doors

After an evening of drinks so I could forget that I’m even fighting anymore

Everything is louder when the sounds of a life once held begins to fall apart

I’m collapsing and colliding just trying to get you out of that bathroom stunt

I’m losing myself and slowly disappearing under a pile of newspaper eulogies

Hey miss, can we delete ourselves, to pretend that this photo was never taken?

It’s another hazy day spent, so I guess I’ll go home in a place where I don’t burn

Right by the six-windowed room, and I won’t ever wonder where you are again.


You’re driving me crazy, I’m—
Washing you out of my hair and out of my mind
Keeping an eye on the world, from so many thousands
Of feet off the ground, I’m over you now
I’m at home in the clouds, and towering over your head
Well I guess I’ll go home now. I guess I’ll go home…


 

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