Tag Archives: reality

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…

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

One Of Them (Cass & Effect)

I see it in her eyes, that girl is lost
But Cassie if you stay with me, I’ll never stop
Cassie’s been waiting too long
The drug in her veins is too strong
She fell in love with the medicine she’s on
Yeah in a matter of minutes her mind’s gone…

~*~

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

You don’t dance in your dress and do ballet twirls

You dye your hair green and wear orange shoes

You’ve got nothing to live for and everything to lose

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

You don’t wish for princes or a dumb fairy tale world

You cut off dragon heads with your silver blade

And the blood is drank in a midnight pub promenade

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

They spill acid on their tongue until their vision curls

You only swallow tablets to avoid feeling dizzy

When your heart feels wrong and your brain feels frisky

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

They’ve got their life together, kiss and tell like bores

Picking out the sweetest bees and tasting the sweetest honey

Oh, aren’t you sick of that bitter mouthwash, honestly?

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

You don’t need saving from another magical curse

They call you cynical, but being realistic’s not a crime

And those bedless boys don’t leave you tongue-tied

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

You got a pistol for a lipstick and a deadshot hearse

You’re never available, you’re never there for the asking

You scare them all off ‘cause you’re “too interesting”

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

Your fingers are broken, but the last time makes the first

How normal, how nice, just a suburban heist in pink stunning

You’ll be the cat burglar melting down faux promise rings

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

While they sob about their stories, you scream at yours

Pluck at the metal strings ‘till your calloused fingers tear

You’ve got a pain in your voice that no one wants to hear

.

Cassie you’re not like the other girls

You don’t get yourself right, wear those scars for the worse

Your mouth’s twisted in a sneer, you’re a bitch in cold dressing

You fight without the bruises and being alone is kind of your thing

.

Cassie you’re not like, and you’ll never be like the other girls

Your mama raised you like that, but hell ‘cause it didn’t do you any good

You’re not stupid and lovely and crazy and flowery like those other girls

But Cassie, don’t you ever wish sometimes that you don’t feel so jealous?

~*~

She left a dent in my heart as she drove
With her car into my life, though
She tilt her head to the side, what a night, yeah
And Cassie, don’t you overdose.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

It’s not like I want bad dreams, but anything that’s a breakaway from the pure hellish darkness I see every night would be quite nice for a change.

In an ocean of noise, I first heard your voice
Ringing like a bell as if I had a choice, oh well
Left in the morning while you were fast asleep
Into an ocean of violence, a world of empty streets…

~*~

I don’t sleep anymore.

I forgot what it feels like

To slow my heavy breaths,

To dream, and be paralysed,

And be afraid that I’ll never

Wake up from the nightmare.

.

I don’t even remember the

Goriest of dreams, even if I

Swore to myself that I would

But as soon as my bleary eyes

Open up beyond the reality, it’s

Like nothing ever happened at all.

.

I don’t know how it happened

But now all I do every night is

Stare up at the dripping ceiling

And think about everything and

Nothing, and imagine that I was

Levitating lucidly, and I’ll wonder

.

What it was like to breathe and to feel,

To resemble a human, and I look back

On the days when I still pretended, and

I did it very well, but now my skin is just

Beginning to peel and melt off like petals…

And then it’s morning, and I don’t wake up.

~*~

You’ve got your reasons
And me I’ve got mine
But all the reasons I gave
Were just lies to buy myself some time
I’m gonna work it out
‘Cause time won’t work it out…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

anatomical dissection: brain

what hurts more,

remembering to forget

or forgetting to remember?

.

you count all the wins

and all the pyrrhic losses

that take your victories under

.

what hurts more,

the scars on your shoulders

or the scars inside your mind?

.

invisible to the naked eye

but a succumbing force that

makes you lose what you’ll find

.

what hurts more,

staying for the sake of leaving

or living for the sake of staying?

.

lock the pain up in your room

and hope this house burns down

with you still trapped inside, crying

.

what hurts more,

all the words that they said

or the words you never spoke?

.

sticks and stones don’t break bones

but splints and cement puts them back

quietly mending what you always broke

.

what hurts more,

knowing too much of everything

or drowning in your own ignorance?

.

scourge for knowledge, miss for bliss

drain the oceans and fill up the abyss

self-hatred fighting your self-defiance

.

what hurts more,

this cold logical ideology

or the lying sentimental truth?

.

it’s a constant push and pull

of devastating dreams and riled reality

inspiring like the rabbit inspires the wolf

.

what hurts more,

overthinking things again

or not thinking about it at all?

6 Comments

Filed under Poetry

not dead, just deadbeat

‘Cause I carry ghosts of the things
You’ve said, I lay my bones to rest
Night after night, sleepless in Phoenix
Tell me a lie, make me believe it
You got me right where you haunt me…

~*~

my intestines are curled up

like unfathomable truth

like the end of the world that’s

happening in my head

so if i didn’t disappear anytime

i hope i’d just drop dead

they all tell me lies that i know

it’s sad that i still believe it

the past is a graceless substitute

for the smiles in my teeth

the future is a giant question mark

leaving open blanks in my skin

i’m sad to the beat of my own heart

and anxious to the beat of others

i don’t know if i’m being melodramatic

or all of this is just wishful sinking

but it feels real—at least, it’s more real

than all the things i’m never sure of

like the art of tragedy in a false miracle

or if i would ever make it out alive

or lose faith in myself before i say i did

i couldn’t feel low if i have drowned

so i close my bleeding eyes and pray again

that when i open them, i’ll see a reality

where i’m certain that i know what i’m doing.

~*~

Night after night, need you to know this
Tears me apart, I hope that you’re hopeless too
And I know we can kiss the past goodbye…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

The Weakness

And as I’ve aged, the only thing I think has changed
Is that the demons have moved from under my bed
Into the inner depths of my head
I can’t escape the ugly things my mind creates
I speculate that they’ll stay with me ’til the grave…

~*~

I scream to the wreck of my mind on my knees

Pray for death’s innocence for my untimely release

When the hurt is too little, the numb is too much

When I want to feel more but I’m just too detached

.

“The disease is not real, you have no right to be sad”

Their way of caring is not caring when I start to get bad

Waiting to understand, when every time is just a relapse

Swing the pendulum again until lines on my skin overlap

.

And their laughter becomes a never happily ever after

I escape in the bedroom with that ugly mocking mirror

When home feels like choking fingers around my throat

I splash my face with dreams to convince myself to cope

.

Thinking that someday soon I will be just who I want to be

But when I say the words, it just feels like lip-syncing to me

I’m on the brink of the bottomless cliff, but I refuse to jump

Because a fool is just another fool waiting for the right bump

.

So I scream to the wreck of my mind to grow some wings

And pray for life’s corruption for me to be finally released

When giving up is too easy, and it’s difficult to fucking hope

I cling to what little miserable faith I have and try not to let go.

~*~

I can’t help the way my mind
Is hardwired to hate myself
Is there any hope for me?
‘Cause I swear that this is hell
The way I desperately try to save myself
‘Cause I can’t save myself…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

if there’s a god, he doesn’t have time for my bullshit

Take the pain
Make it billboard big and swallow it for me
Time capsule for the future
Trust me, that’s what I will be
Oh, the things that you do in the name
Of what you love

You are doomed but just enough…

~*~

i’m just so sick of faith

being forced down my throat

like it’s a mandatory responsibility

i may as well be tasting tax bills

but even then, at least i know

that the former is concrete, instead

of blindly fumbling for my hands as

i clasp the scapular and mumble

memorised prayers that i grew tired of

in another dead lifetime ago

because if i have to starve for days

and cut myself open just to enter heaven,

then why do they tell me it’s the devil’s fault?

isn’t that what i’m doing, anyway?

and what’s the fucking point of paradise?

Yes, the norms and dictations were all fun and

amusing when i was a wide-eyed child

so malleable, curious, and foolish enough to believe in

santa claus and the tooth fairy and tall tales

and believing whatever people told me was true

because i couldn’t construct my own reality back then

but now i’m older (one may contradict that

i’m not *that* old, but if my family says i’m old

enough to have to go through this bullshit, then that’s

adequately old enough for me, thanks very much)

and i’m wornout and jaded and tired and have

gone through not a lot, but just enough to lose the beliefs

that have done nothing good or beneficial for me

because all the saints and the promises of salvation

couldn’t make my eyes fall shut every night

and keep them wide open every morning,

day in and day out, over and over and over again.

i may as well be wishing quiet little whims every 11:11

or plucking lucky four-leaf clovers from grass

for whatever faith that’s worth anchoring myself onto.

Now, i know to keep my mouth shut and respect their faiths

but just don’t fucking cram all of it down my throat

like it’s my responsibility to be a good child,

to feel sorry for my sins and stay away from hell…

because if i live in a world like this, just how bad can that be?

~*~

And it’s getting hard to know what’s real
And if death is the last appointment
Then we’re all just sitting in the waiting room
I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

vaccuum

take me to a place

where i don’t matter

and no one ever matters

and reality never matters

and nothing else matters

.

take me to a place

where my thoughts matter

and the people i need matter

and the dreams always matter

so nothing else would matter.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Blood Will Have Blood

The reverent situation embellished in derelict plinths

A monolithic monument for the glorious and the bold

Calm deceit that shackled itself by the crumbling base

Of the cavalier and honourables, now but history aged

Voices of the casualties pilfered from pernicious graves

What must be forgotten is an imprint of those who saved

The damned beaten down into the ground from which they lay

Sacrificing blood so clockwork eyes may live to see another war-bent day.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

bang bang

a yesterday

or two ago

i watched

my child

grow up and

get married

.

but today

and in the now

i watched

my child

fall down and

get buried.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry