Tag Archives: random

Misery Loves Company

I’m in good company

With idiots and fools

As they entertain me

By being absolute tools

.

I’m in good company

With idiots and fools

But should I be sorry?

Fuck, I don’t make the rules.

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break the fall

sorry to break

it to you now,

but you’re not

special, love

you’re barely

worthy for a

clap, let alone

a white dove

sorry to break

your beliefs,

dear, but you’re

just not worth

any of my time

if i’m coldblooded

in your sad eyes

then be a friend

and fucking pay

for your crime.

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angel mine

let me fly

and steal your gun

kiss the sky

let’s have some fun

let me fall

against your wings

time is up

so why don’t we sing?

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Filed under Poetry

Lemonade, Licorice

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

Of stars and sunlight

And neverland night

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

Of candy and kisses

And maiden misses

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

In daisies and decay

And cloud-floss clay

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

For twists and tears

And floral-blue fear

.

Lemonade, licorice

Make me a promise

In bittersweet taste

May we never fade.

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Filed under Poetry

Illicit Infestations

“And about forgiveness, we’re both supposed to have exchanged…I’m sorry honey, but I’m passing up, now look this way!”

~*~

That dead song of the past is singing louder

The earphones that I lost don’t give a damn

Fractured feet and journeys on tepid water

But in the end, infestations devour humans

Blithe risks taken of two intertwining voices

Against apathy and arcade lights and noises

Unraveled guts on parasitic worry, nervous haste

I deigned for a replay, but we failed…what a waste.

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Filed under Poetry

[Scar][let]

angry scarlet

constellations

on my visage

i wish sorely

to simply pop

but if they are

because of you

i’ll treat each

one as a pretty

crimson star

so that i would

never have to

vain to stop.

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Filed under Poetry

Ring the Bell Referee, and Let the Fight Begin

Such a shame you had to go and run your mouth
Your mouth is what you make it but at least I’ve got real friends—
Can you hear me now?! Now that I’m a big star!
Fuck you and your new love for yourself! (It don’t mean shit…)

~*~

Life is a kickass enemy, and the rage is a motivation

Let the judges slit my throat over my unorthodox declaration

It’s hard punches and cold lunches packed with action

Move closer to me now, and step into my own creations

Say my sullied name again, I’m stronger than before

I left my shoes under the bridge so when I fly, I feel lighter

Honestly it’s not that easy to have half of my fun

But this crimson ink bleeds so I won’t have to use a gun

My fingers they splinter from frenetic movements

If I’m still alive right now, I’m only breathing in segments

Ideas run wild and I stumble, I gotta pace to keep up

And I have to learn more about gravity to get the last laugh

Hear the sound of my voice among a stentorian million

Fuck the stars and dollar bills that sing against my emotion

I’ll whisper in silver undertones and break my voice on needles

Roll the dice but you can’t solve all my cryptic riddles

Don’t take my jealous life of matches and propane lights

Kill it fast, don’t let it die, I’m on a hurricane tonight

Spit and masticate the contract written on skin and paper

Throw the shreds in the seafloor bed under the polluted waters

But oh my god, I’ve been looking in the wrong direction

Running away in pilchard pastels over twisting intersections

This turnpike velocity won’t be my ultimate weakness

I’ll try not to splinter my soul, I’ll try never to second guess

So stop staring at me now, your glare is nitrogen seething

I promise I’ll be even later for our preliminary meeting

I’ll praise the chicken scratches I’m proud to call my home

Cursed again, this foolish confidence just won’t leave me alone

I’m exhausted, I’m burnt-out, and everything quavers spasmodically

But shit I’ll use my own words, I’m not gonna borrow from the dictionary

I know this adrenaline high will wear out soon, I’ll collapse from temporary exhilaration

But goddamnit I’ll drag my broken legs to hell if I have to, and I’ll abuse this rare motivation.

~*~

And I’ve got so much to give
But I would kill just to feel less invisible!
And you’ve got so much to learn about gravity
So live it up baby don’t look down
(Live it up baby, don’t look down…)

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say that the night sings along

tiredness

melting my bones

into bitter milk

and liquid silver

melting

like an icy dream

trapped in an

iceberg madness

madness

of a turbid crown

piercing my

screaming flesh

screaming

a laryngitis screaming

as the strangled

bracelets acted

acted as manacles

melting into reverie

melted over

like a thousand

sleepless nights

caught up in the rain

a rain

rain of blood and

agony on the

spiral staircase steps

footsteps

every step an arrow

lodged in my achilles heel

tearing ligaments

striking joints

lacerating tendons

lacerated

like the crying veins

serpentine in my

bloodshot eyes

blinded eyes

don’t close my eyes

i might never wake

never arise again

tagain i fall into repose

falling—

and if you do

do not disturb me

from the everlasting sleep

i don’t deserve

s l e e p . . .

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Filed under Poetry

On Account of Accounting

Accounting lessons; 1:00 PM. There’s a dull humming invading every comatosed whim of my numbed-down senses, as my wandering stare loses its attention from the blackboard and stays to the harshly glaring rays of the stupor-inducing sunshine. Perspiration trickles solemnly down my neck, a steady saline river of liquid ennui, scribbling fluid retrospections on my scoliosis-slouch back. Nothing else makes much sense but senselessness. The discussion goes on, and the teacher, god bless her, but her voice is beginning to melt into the sound of the faceless grownups in a classic Peanuts movie, and I’m the exasperated Charlie Brown looking comically tired and uttering my disappointed interjection of ″Good grief.″ I sigh inwardly at the depressing thought. A speck of dirt flies past my jaded drooping eyes, almost taunting me as it basks in all its glorious and dignified freedom, and I can hear a squeaky voice at the back of my head blowing raspberries and chanting ″You’re stuck and forced to endure this torture and I’m not, suck it loser!″. I send it away with an aloof glare and a whiff of carbon dioxide from my dry cracked lips, and the high pitched voice trails away with an indignant Darth Vader yell of NOOOOOO, as the dirt speck finally disappears from my line of vision. Yes, I am seriously picking quarrels with infinitesimal matter. I am either very much insane, or have transcended all the limits of human boundaries and am, in fact, an omniscient god who can communicate with inanimate objects. An audible laugh accidentally escapes my throat in a choked hiss at such ludicrousness, and I hastily attempt to cover it up with a weak and pathetic cough. I clamped one heavily-doodled hand to my mouth to prevent any further unfortunate situations, as the teacher’s pupils (well, the ones on her eyes anyways, not the students) twitch in suspicion and scan the tepidly simmering room, ears perked up and nostrils slightly flared in alarm. I duck, scratch on my soaked neck awkwardly, and feint nonchalance by pretending to copy down notes in order to avoid her accusing eye contact, earnest visage etched on my face as I am actually writing this down. The sunlight tears against the glass panes more invasively than before. The room grows stuffier and unbearably hot, the students sliding into a gregarious and palpable grudge, the teacher’s voice sounding more and more like a drone of disturbed angry wasps, buzzing and incoherent. There is nothing else to do but further degringolade into the void of boredom as my neurone flickers off and commits suicide one by one. I hang my head back and absentmindedly gape at my besmirched hands, the vantablack Sharpie ink on my tanned skin shimmering as it separated itself from the dermis and began to float upwards like helium balloons, calligraphic band member names and splintered song lyrics dancing and fusing in an amalgamation of odd letters and incomprehensible symbols, right before my delirious hallucinating eyes. The sky grows temporarily dislimned as the vicious sun gets blocked off and hides behind a passing temperamental cloud. The students become a caricature tableaux of a cautionary cry for help, melting into human puddles along with their creaking plastic armchairs. The unknowing teacher rambles on, lost and deafened by her own static white noise. The cycle continues. It’s official: I am clearly very much insane.

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Filed under Prose

eleven:eleven

make a wish

a fated kiss

four eleven

listen heaven

make a wish

whimsy bliss

again eleven

chime broken

make a wish

hopeful hiss

strike eleven

now and then

make a wish

never to miss

eleven eleven

faith stars even.

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Filed under Poetry