Tag Archives: rage

Transmogrify

They spit me out right through the teeth
I can’t pretend, ash in the wind
Won’t blow again, it was a breeze for you
These hurricanes inside of my brain
Let it rain, made it look easy
Can’t look away, you love the pain…

~*~

I’m sick of feeling happy like this.

Like a hollow happy, all fractured sticks and carved limestone facades and a mimicked genuine smile that does absolutely nothing to quell the bitter, devoid, pathetically-quivering feeling viscously building up in my throat. The desperate, acidic kind, the awful one I just want to violently throw back up but can’t. Fake-real happy.

Fuck that, why couldn’t I just be normal happy?

This dangerous selfishness, it’s like a howling werewolf without a full moon, and I’ll always fall immeasurably short of what I truly feel. I only provoke the worst kind of boiling rage frothing against my curled lips, a bloodstained rabid displeasure—but nothing more—at the fact that I’m happy for you, but not really happy to be so. Empty fucking threats. Instantly dying out short and flat. The synthetic skyline glimmers back to me in a derisive snarl; taunting,

What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?

I want it to tear apart my flimsy skin and reveal the perverse goddamned feral beast hibernating inside, I want my soggy eyes to glint a jaundiced yellow and my grotesquely-disfigured mind to lower its inhibitions and reset to a primal scream, my rewired guts are churning corrosively as they crash away at my torso and starve for some more guts, and my grin at this point only resembles a sinister bared sneer, all vicious teeth and reckless abuse.

If I can’t have it, then everyone else will.

I just finally want to shed off that repugnant, powerless, shaky lie I call my own farcical humanity and then completely let go. Of you. Of everything else. Of everyone else. Including myself. Especially myself.

Maybe then, I’ll truly be happy. Please. God, please.

~*~

I paid the cost, yeah, it’s all my fault
That I ain’t giving up my soul
It’s all my fault, watching me bleed
You cut me down on my knees
No matter what you believe
I think we both can agree
That you can’t blame it on me…

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Filed under Prose

Butcher With The Bad Blood

He will remain a walking corpse
His legs will move forward
Addictions itch at his throat
But only to crave more of the blood
He seeks, the man only thirsts…

~*~

Rapid-fire anger management and profanities screaming

You hold your own shredded throat by the unlocked trigger

And clutch tight, like the desperate straws you’re grasping

Beating dead, fucked over by your own sovereign banter

.

Relinquish the power, decorated in track marks and golden medals

But it could only last so long before synthetic monuments crumble

And you find your own damned children splattered all over the walls

Covered in a rain of glass and guilt, begging for some salvation to call

.

Viciously, all the bloated carnage starts reeling away from your reality

Disrupted by the way your faked defensive cries are still failing humanity

No empathy could ever understand the infection burning out your brain

You started with blind rage and opened up hell, but only mangled eyes remain.

~*~

Buried, his tomb will breathe
His hands will rise
From his shallow grave
Begging only for sleep
Dear father, I’ll be waiting
Saved you a seat in hell…

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Filed under Poetry

15 – the rage

numb fingers are bruised

pills cold from fermenting

in a starving mouth

and the worst has been

already confirmed…

there’s no going back

and oversleeping only

gives way for hallucinations;

demented and senseless—

but at least they’re only

that—false disenthrallments

created by a haunted brain

unlike the reality that

awaits my fragile psyche,

replete with dread and

sedated suicide, with tired

knuckles splashed a pale

hurt of purple glow…

the worst has just begun.

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Filed under Poetry

Arsonist

It feels like there’s a raging fire within my chest—

And I want it to burn everything inside and out

.

My lungs, my heart, my throat; I want it to replace my breathing,

Escape the confines of my ribcage and devour my skin whole

.

Swallow my reckless body as if I was nothing, and spit it out in faded ashes

And finally burn out like a last word at the tip of my nonexistent tongue.

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Filed under Poetry

Oubliette

the thorny thought

it grows and grows

through dahlias grey

and crimson throes

.

it pierces past

the hardest stones

the softest veils

and diamond bones

.

the thorny thought

thus rages harsh

climbs castles high

to reach the stars

.

it pierces past

the coldest blood

and empties veins

to the last drop.

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Filed under Poetry

Isolated Distances

Push them away with the whim of a wind

Until their stretched fingertips are irretrievable—

.

You are falling, alone in chasmic rage;

They need not suffer with your chagrins.

.

Draw away further until no one can ever reach

The dangerous flare that burns skin and town alike…

.

No harm, nor ache, nor hurt, nor pain,

Needs superfluously to cross their aureole smiles;

.

They’ll remain alright as long as you are not

And the sun will keep revolving in the absence of your breath.

.

Though if you only wished to express clamorous such

Contagious toil, in the faith that some empathetic mortal

.

Will understand, and hear you out, and actually listen—

How inconsiderately conceited and selfish of you.

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Filed under Poetry

R·A·R·E

“But I will soon forget the colour of your eyes
And you’ll forget mine…”

~*~

Oh honey, just know I think you’re rare

But so do a million pairs of staring eyes

I carved your eternal words on my skin

While their dirty desks are filled with lies

.

But I’ll ignore the protests of my chest

I was your worst, but you were my best

Convulsions staunched won’t be enough

To revive my suppressed detesting to last

.

So let me be your only saving grace notion

Under conflagration, in epileptic inspiration

I’ll be your rage, you’ll be my perfect disease

Cure my unclung heartstrings from mercenaries

.

That vain to steal the gold rush in your tongue

And leave the staccato pain where it all began

You’re staling breath my lungs sought to keep

I can exhale underwater if my onyx skies need

.

A drop of fragile storm, if your drought doesn’t break

And I’ll listen to your soft melodies just to stay awake

They’re all florid sycophants, ostentatious in clamours

They may casually admire, but I would eternally adore

.

Because darling, I always think you’re the rarest of them all

And a million pairs of eyes might look but they’ll never know

How, in this peripheral passion, how bruised and cursed I’d fall

Just to reach the light that you hold, I’ll always stay while they all go.

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Filed under Poetry

grim murmurs

the thought whispers behind my bones

and it tells me solemnly to come home

but the thought says that i go on alone

and have a slice of paradise for my own

the thought drains away my paling blood

and every rationalisations i have ever had

against the volatile rage of mercurial flood

i shall listen, and find my own way to god.

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Filed under Poetry

the cyclone

riptides roar

tsunamis soar

hurricane waves

can’t be saved

ocean rages

howling winds

desperate surges

sailing stints

whirlpool wailing

water flowing

of salt and sand

ships unmanned

seas slow down

as sirens serenade

the storm has passed

and calm is made.

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Filed under Poetry

blood on my hands

Watched you bite into the bottle
Watched me kick out the chair
Let you chew up the glass
And laughed as you just hung there…

~*~

attacking

the white walls

’til my shivery

senseless knuckles

blossom into

myriad riots of

heliotrope and scarlet,

painting my fist

with burgundy blots

and cacophonic

screams of potent

mercilessness

splattering the

wall with brutality

and upset red

and an anger that’s

feeding on the migraine

at the back of my

artery-bursting temple

harsh primal senses

overtaking all of

my rationality

the adrenaline nearly

stopping my heart,

nothing but blind fury

exhausted from all sides

of this violence

i can see your face

on the goddamn wall

i don’t want to stop trying

to knock some sense

into your hallucination

of your childish disillusion

for every time

skin kisses asphalt

and soft collides with solid

it’s a tally of just how

fucking stupid you are.

i’ll keep on punching

and seething and pounding

and tearing flesh,

hoping that soon enough

one of us will just stop

trying to be a masochistic

fucker and cease such

useless punishment

and i only pray

that it will happen

all before the lusting metal

reaches your strung vein

and snaps it in half

turning the blood on my

hands into more than

just a literal connotation;

or before the grinding concrete

reaches my fragile bones

and breaks it apart

turning the damage into

more than just

a wall.

~*~

I lost my head
You couldn’t come
This lust to my brain
Almost feels like a gun…

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Filed under Poetry