Tag Archives: promise

epochs

i’m overthinking

you’re my overthought

hope lost to the seasons

confused sympathy forgot

flavescent streetlights

doubt and paranoia

dimming like bad habits

can’t be more than nostalgia

left cold in the end with

a wicked iridescence

was it all just a mistake?

all falling out of better sense

.

i’m overthinking

you’re my overthought

i promised to escape

unlacing every tangled knot

and embers dying out to

shivering uncertainties

of a fugacious infatuation

your effervescent kiss

so let me be the patience

and the future violence—once

my mind falls with daybreak

resting with our unfazed dalliance.

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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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Afterall

The promise of control.

It screams and sighs and starves me,

it makes me feel so empty.

But the hollowness,

the hopelessness,

the hunger,

it makes me feel so fucking fulfilled.

The promise of control.

The promise of hopeful tomorrows.

The promise of getting better…

But no.

Not when I’m sick.

Not when I lie to myself.

Not when I’m tired of having to give up all over again.

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The Division

Let me count the ways you kill me;

1.) You carved promises at the notches of my brittle bones, mercilessly enthralling and hypnotising me under the anaesthetic assurance that everything was fine, that I was fine, and that I wouldn’t ever have to destroy myself again; but all the while, you crushed the very foundations beneath my suspended feet and made heaven shatter all around me like an ethereal motion sickness. And as if that wasn’t enough, you set everything on fire and watched this wretched phoenix turn to listless ashes, never to rise again; a demented conflagration.

2.) You promised me for better or for worse, but as I tried to find new names for the shade of red in my lips, you forgot about the obscene sickness that’s violently heaving inside my compromised chest and without so much as a twinge of second chances or point-blank hesitation, you injected every indistinct symptom known and unknown to man, turning my shaky breaths to crystalline lilacs and my selfish ribs to impure glass. I asked for a cure, and instead I received a despicable panacea, a myriad riot of plagues that irreparably devastated my system, ripping me to irreversible shreds. “You can’t get hurt if all you feel is hurt, right?”

3.) I’ve got hands like houses, and you rejected my severed hospitality as you broke down every locked door and deceptive boundary like it was nothing; like I was nothing. I constantly find myself lost in complicated syncopes, as I’m trapped spiraling and crawling back to the same self-sustaining cycles of parabolic grief and hypertensive schizophrenia, predicting premonitions that never came true. This eternal winter freezing over my bloodline is stitched together by a million blizzards and snowstorms conspiring exquisitely at once, but this difficult tantrum of a weather is not a tribulation to you, is it? Your cold temper is intolerable, a thousand suns melding together and detonating convulsively in the empty vacuum of space, and there’s no one else around to hear me scream one last time. I wanted to burn. You took it too far.

4.) Were you even sorry? Did you even feel a single taste of contrition when you watched my starving, pathetic soul grapple for life at the very nave of that decimated altar, asking for the silhouetted universe to fall on my back so that it wouldn’t be my fault, nor yours, that everything got screwed over? Did you see what I’ve done, just so I wouldn’t be what you’ve become? I couldn’t find my way back on the ground, so I swallowed my pride like pried coffin nails for the sake of a more poignant memory to remember; retribution heals what time cannot. Yet now I close my reckless eyes and softly coalesce in sadistic plumes of the miserable discourse you call an intravenous love, and I beg, and I beg. Were you even sorry at all?

5.) You are me, and I am you. I have no one. You are no one. When you lived, I died; and when you died, I along with you. I called it genocide. They called it desperation. For I am me, and you are you. There was no one else. They called it suicide. I call it salvation.

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shut up when you’re talking to me

We keep the beat with your blistered feet
And we bullet the words at the mockingbirds singing
Slept through the weekend and dreaming
Of sinking with the melody of the cliffs of eternity
Got postcards from my former selves saying “How’ve you been?”

~*~

those clever words

are only things

you said in your sleep…

but i still listened,

and i still believed in them.

i’ll wear my heart on

my sleeve just so i could

wear something new

i’ll wear my brain over my shirt

just so i could pretend that

it’s something true—

but feeling and thinking

is already out of style

so guess my fashion statement

is faded, bleached out in

the bad kind of vintage

so won’t you give me

a cheap trick and tell me

“don’t be cruel, honey”

like the parasite that ravaged

our lips turning to scarlet

but i couldn’t find the letter

or monarch butterflies

in our holiday down in las vegas

when we lost the highway

for the third time that evening.

it’s a picture perfect eternity

the goodbye that never leaves

it’s the most insincere you and me

the “happy birthday” that doesn’t age

have i blown your mind yet?

or were you distracted by misery?

there’s no take two’s, i’m afraid

but encore’s full of apologies

so just talk, like it’s all we can do

talk because it’s all we can do

and listen to the insomnia

lash out in crashing profanities

if you’re too afraid to stay

‘cause these doldrums won’t play out

forever…would they?

~*~

Whoa oh, we’re so miserable and stunning
Whoa oh, love songs for the genuinely cunning
It was ice cream headaches and sweet avalanche
When the pearls in our shells got up to dance
You call me a bad tipper of the cradle
Tired yawns for fawns on hunter’s lawns…

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Torment

I hurt myself again today

And I’m sorry that I did

I don’t know. Why am I so afraid

Of never bleeding out?

.

The silence speaks to me

And it speaks in a thousand voices

And it tells me what I’ve done

.

I know what I have done

.

I want to undo everything

And start somewhere

That doesn’t involve any bruises

And burns over marred skin

.

If only someone could tell me

Where that is

.

So I don’t have to be lost

In a tidal wave of old promises

As old as forsaken happiness

I said I would always try to keep

But gave away to the grasp of time

.

It was my forgotten concept

But with no one to teach me again

It’s all I can do to remember

And try to heal what’s left of me.

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I Don’t See It

Oh, I don’t forget every time you say
We’ll have the life that we pinned up on our wall
Can’t push the future back another day
‘Cause we been waiting for so long…

~*~

Give me a moment to burn

So I could learn to stay awake

If I had planets inside my lungs

I wouldn’t ever let them turn

.

And I’m making paper cranes

Out of magazines and yellow pages

Pushing back the future I thought

I’ve been building high for ages

.

The authenticity can grow tiring

And the static channels memerising

But I can only wait and wilt again

Feeling thorns wrap around my skin

.

So just show me what you meant

When the promise entered my brain

Like another bad syringe injection

But with a higher dose of pain

.

So I could stop burning dishonestly

For the sake of asking for bad company

If I had room for faith inside the sun

I’d keep it in the dark—that way, it’s more fun.

~*~

I’ll let you promise worlds to me
And you can take the lead, if you show me what you mean
We can build this life we dream of
I don’t wanna wait, making plans for yesterday…

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fac[ad]e

hold it

together

and keep a

straight face

and just

remember

to set the

right pace

keep yourself

calm and

promise that

you’re sober

and maybe

soon enough

it will all

be over.

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Belial

I will defend that we are the vanquished
And you will not make our decisions
I won’t pretend that I’m not a victim
Of a world that will not listen
They will fall, nothing that I can’t overcome…

~*~

Rise from your grave

And save yourself

The angels won’t miss

A blurry little detail

.

Devour their promise

Crushed fingers lift

From another prayer

That you sent back to hell

.

They will all thank you

Someday, you think boastfully—

But for now we’re content

Cursing you back to your death.

~*~

Conquer the battles one by one
Crushing the head of what’s become
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs…

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Deciduous Infinity

“Hang the stars who pulled the pin out of my heart.”

~*~

I’m never going to lose you

The way I lost my past possessions

Of paper stars and empty cars

And first-grade last impressions

I’ve cried in smudged ink a hundred ways

Filling up every spectrum and space

I’ve listened until all the tapes are played

And revolving around in eternal ballet

There has been too much ethereal

In quiet holy places and feisty carnivals

Autumn collisions of the sky and the ocean

Peripherals of songs of resting swans

But I’m never going to lose your dream

The way I lost my fugacious incandescence

From bedless hope and faithless screams

You’re my first place last defiance.

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