Tag Archives: reason

Rhyme and Reason

I’m a stray for blue boys and a songheart for little bo-peeps.

I wish I didn’t exist in dusty novels and forgotten storybooks the way that your obscene breath does, the way that your dreamscape wings fall off into ashes, the way that you simply do. Always in the ways that I couldn’t.

I despise myself for being a complete upside-down fool, madly limerent for this fiasco of a game that I’ve lost the moment before it even started, violently surrendered and beaten blonde and black to the point where I start doubting myself in bitter gunshots and giving my sweet bullets all up just so I could be your unsigned scarlet letter.

Do you understand me? Because I don’t.

I wish I would have written a hundred synesthetic postcards left unsent, but all I have are these hundred meretricious words to tell you what you don’t know. What you won’t know. And what you never will.

Stay lost, blue boy. Or you’ll end up like me.

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Filed under Prose

Overcast

Outside for the first time in a long time
You said you can’t remember what it’s like
To feel more than cold on the inside
But the sunrise will come again and you’ll be just fine…

~*~

It’s been too long

Since I last felt sad

When the pink clouds

Didn’t make me mad

.

It’s been too long

Since I last had a motion

To mess things up

Fall away from the season

.

It’s been too long

Since I last felt the hurt

Sinking deep in my chest

Breaking apart my worth

.

It’s been too long

Since I’m out of style

When the cold was fine

I hung around for a while

.

It’s been too long

Since I shed a real tear

Let myself slide away

Succumbed to my fears

.

It’s been too long

Since I last waited again

For failure to go away

Let the dark into my skin

.

It’s been too long

Since I last saw a daylily bloom

Summer’s just a breath, and I want to stay

But it’s been too long since I last found a reason.

~*~

You are the rustling of leaves
And you are that honeysuckle breeze
You are the sunlight
Shine onto me, shine onto me…

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Filed under Poetry

just a little more for overdose

My mind is wide asleep, my conscience deep awake 
The promises I keep are not the ones I make 
I count the caustic causes, I lost count of regrets 
A surplus of good intentions, don’t provide me with content 
All I want is just a little content…

~*~

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

and i want to find it

and drink it all

to keep myself from

impulsively banging my

migraine-shot head

into the wall

and possibly haemorrhage

because she doesn’t believe me

that i am in pain

i’m in pain.

and it’s not just physical

but if it doesn’t show

in thermometers and bruises

that must mean

i’m faking it

to get out of class

because what sane person

wouldn’t want to feign

being suicidal for such petty reasons?

i’m breathing heavily,

ragged cries echoing hollowly

on the bathroom tiles, and

my feet are shivering

from stepping on the wet floor

for too long, but i can’t run away.

i try to make up my mind,

waiting for the spots of blood

to catch in my ivory soap

but instead the tears beat them to it.

it hurts it hurts IT HURTS

i want to scream

but my younger sister is still eating her

breakfast obliviously outside,

most likely wondering

why the hell

i have been silent

for more than 30 minutes now

i hope she thinks i’m dead.

i hope i wish i’m dead.

i’m waiting for her to leave already

so i could tiptoe out

of the bathroom

and get a new pair of metal smiles

goddamnit, she better hurry up.

meanwhile, my mother is ready to shove

the wall clock down my throat

and shriek at me that

i’m already running late

i know she wants me dead.

I know i want to be dead.

and of course, she blames me

for staying up to do

the only thing i can do

to try to just fucking stay alive

better to be dying inside

than to waste my cold future

and skip a day of class

(as if i have a future at that point)

i don’t have to be a liability

to her, to any of them, right now

and this sickness was

my own undoing,

i was clearly asking for it.

i’m guilty

of what i know

but not of what i did

to myself or them

but for what i did even though

i have what i need alone

…i’m fucking weak,

i know already.

and to think that i actually

cared for these bastards

once or even twice

in my life—how disgusting.

my mother

has a secret stash of valium

that she’s probably

knocking down

all at once to keep from

impulsively slamming

my migraine-shot head into

the pristine white walls

because she thinks that i’m a liar

and since i guess i am…i fucking believe her

just as much as she believes

that i am in pain.

i’m in pain.

~*~

I choose the beaten path, I’ve been to where it leads 
Why I keep coming back, a mystery to me 
I found what I’ve been seeking, it’s too late for me to care 
My aspiration’s leaking from a hole I can’t repair 
Maybe I just don’t want it repaired.

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Mood Rings

I never have to carefully shape sentences
When I’ve got some words to say
They’re falling from my mouth from the time
That they hit my brain
‘Cause we built a picture made for frames
We live in chemistry away from all the wasted time and taste…

~*~

There’s a reason why I like the pink in your mood

My words hit the ground, but you catch them so we’re good

If time’s running out for me, I’ll be sure to take it slow

I may be high on conflict but on your sights I’m low

.

The amount of space between my smile and eyes are closing in

But frustration and disappearing sense is not a problem

Because if you laugh, then I laugh, and if you cry, then I die

The city’s a slow waltz into the colourful cocktails we have to try

.

I may speak my mind but I talk with my heart

And it only takes one skipping beat to know where to start

I keep falling for everything that wants nothing to do with me

But I’ll keep trying until the blondes stop being pretty

.

I change so quickly, I don’t even know what to think

And your face goes from soft violet to vivid blush like a 90’s trick

I’m the rain that you chase, you’re the lone cloud in May

Our weather’s too erratic and unstable, but I adore it anyway

.

So don’t get me wrong, your fingers may be pointing

But I’ll take them in my hand and yell bang, the bullet’s flying

You’re troubled by the clothes you wear, confused looks good on you

It accentuates the glow in your halo, but you never had a clue

.

I’m asking all the wrong questions, but you still answer them right

And I’m hoping to the moon that you’ll answer the most important one tonight

I’m dirty red, you’re canary yellow, let’s collide together and be orange fire

A hurricane’s sleeping in my bedroom, can I stay over? We can dream until we’re tired.

~*~

My mood’s dictated by our conversations
And if you don’t text I get too frustrated
I want you all to myself this time, t-t-time
Conflicted looks good on me, I’m trying desperately
I want you all to myself this time, t-t-time…

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Broadcasting Live From The Seatbelt

Come one, come all, you’re just in time
To witness my first breakdown
‘Cause there’s a mile gone
For every minute passed
When I’m stuck in this town…

~*~

For every minute I count at the tip of my jaded palm

Makes me believe that I can actually give a damn

Third time’s the charm, but the thirtieth’s just tiring

I’ll save my breath for the holidays I won’t be taking

.

Change the radio station when nothing good’s ever on

Witness as I crash my car high on the beat of a breakdown

Just to make the news, just ‘cause I’m fucking bored

At least something exciting happened in this deadbeat town

.

But I don’t need a doctor, and I don’t need more pills

I’m not crazy, just feeling sorry that I don’t know what to feel

Passed out from the traffic fumes, stuck in my head for hours

Wishing I had better hair, wishing I had superpowers

.

And I’m not coming clean, what else is the reason now?

Dreams don’t come for free, especially not in this late hour

My stereo’s playing the greatest hits, I’m so sick of hearing it

I’d drink beer and smoke a drag, but I don’t know when to quit

.

For every second and mile that I waste, wasted off these foolish promises

Like my ragged backseat holster and stained carpet, my existence is a mess

And this just in, the latest breaking news is that I’m already fucking breaking

But I’ll step on the brakes until it stops, until I don’t know which road I’m taking.

~*~

So go on and lock me up, you better throw away that key
Before I find out where you broadcast from
Because your playlist is killing me
I’ll change that station, light it up like the 4th of July
It’s me, I’m caller fifteen, time to play my last request…

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A Child’s Laughter

It’s the fact that you are entertained

For virtually no proper reason at all

Only finding your fickle amusement

When I’m laughing so out of the blue

Because you’ll never have to find any

No, you’re merely content with seeing

Happiness in others, and your innocent

Soul finds that as all the more reason to

Smile in this solemn, humourless world.

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The Horticulturist

One by one the days fall beside us like yellow leaves
We have no conscience, oh, what we’re becoming
Month by month the rings on our tree trunks
Like old wise eyes grow wider
And winter lends them a dead disguise…

~*~

all the times

that my pretence

falls away to reveal

a dissecting evil

crashing against the

enamouring dopamine

of your crystal eyes

and whenever the bats

residing in my belfry

bite in rabid shreds

as i told you the reasons

why i don’t need the sun

to watch over my lies…

i didn’t know it hurt.

and even when your mouth

moved to speak of the

florid diamonds leaving your

bones with every suspended

breath i took, still i ignored

it, and culled the butterfly wings

you were only beginning to grow

crushing them for my own fool’s

grey stained glass interpretation.

i see my sorry mistake now

what an envious tongue i was

to impede and torture change

and wring them dry in deception

shivving the lunacy fringe deep

in my virulent, violent strain

perhaps the sense was never mine

to keep in mine caustic waste.

you merely wanted roses to

bloom in your pulsating thorax,

but my scissors never gave

you the chance to do so

and a different shade of scarlet

touched your skin that day.

but despite the endless famine

that haunts my soul, there’s

still thistles to be removed,

fertile soil to be revived, and

you handed me the trowel even

when i already lost sourly to you.

it’s another chance to repair all

the misfortune, to mitigate all the

repercussions, and to plant a

thornless blossom in this stygian

garden of choked weeds and demolition.

i won’t count my stars before

they paint the sky with yellow fire

but i can always count on the

misbegotten heart, sparing

another courtesy for the misguided.

no more plucking petals from

shivering deoxygenated lungs,

no matter how temptingly pretty

they may be to my twitchy fingers;

may the poisonous chemicals

no longer adhere to sprouting foliage

and murder them in cold blood,

may the flora in ingenue poetry not

be mendacious and remain untainted,

and pray let this withering, barren

desert of a garden be resplendently

efflorescent and verdant with life once more.

~*~

Now time, like an ocean, knows tide, like a notion
To toss about the house and lose inside the couch
Piles of our thoughts run miles in the dark
Just trying to get home, age by age
We rime with our seasons’ rehearsed routines
Still turning and returning…

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Illumina

i was wrong to think

dear, that the lights would follow you

back home, where i sleep alone

with an extinguished lamp

.

perhaps you were too prudent

and needn’t dare to waste the stars

on such fickle promenades

.

or perhaps i wasn’t worth the weight

of a galaxy where you exist

.

or perhaps the infinite nights were too much a burden for you

.

but whatever the curious reason

i still stand solitary under a dismal sky

and you’re still kissing the sunlight

as the moon falls under the endless well

weeping grievously for its lost love

.

and my heart wouldn’t be forgiven

for all the scars it left on yours

.

but i hold starlight within my eyes

ones you shall never touch nor extinguish

like the cold lamp smouldering by my bedside

.

for i was mistaken to think, dear

that you were the only source of luminescence.

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The Marionette’s March

The fear sets in, of knowing how short our time is
The shortness of stride, not a single excuse to prove
That we were meant for this
Everything starts to spin all at once
If you hear something strange in my voice, its conviction
Detest my words, they have no ill meaning…

~*~

Don’t look back on the patience you lost

The blood that’s been wasted, the casualties cost

A strange voice that hides the bad intentions

Though not yours to atone, suffer in perdition

.

Back and forth, the confused marionette swings

Keys of haunted reveries a rusty music box sings

Conviction relinquished to the uproarious applause

What’s yours will be mine, and sever all the loss

.

And I believe that your hands clap for a reason

Just as why thieves walk free and lambs go to prison

If death was a game, then the dice has been cast

Only those caught in the thorns of the throne shall last

.

We move on, we move on, what’s a clock without the ticks?

To warn of oncoming reparations, sounds rather cryptic

Follow the trail of sunshine as it stammers and falters feeble

Heads and tails decision, let the coin land in the middle

.

And if the theatre lights shut down in this city’s comatose

Bow deep and lay upon your mausoleum a dusty merlot rose

Thus holding only the patience that was once yours to have

Now forsaken and lost like a demon in an ocean of gods.

~*~

Oh dear puppet, wake up
And cut the strings before the next show
I believe that this is in your blood
By all means take your place, take your place
Put yourself into this letter, we’ve all had it alright
We dropped the ball.

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I Have My Reasons To Live; You Got Yours?

And darlin’

I don’t need constant reminding

These eyes aren’t merely smitten

I chewed off more than I’ve bitten

.

And darlin’

You never have to worry about a thing

For such limerence is imperishable, no

And you’re the only reason it doesn’t go.

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Filed under Poetry