Tag Archives: regret

Fending Off the Barflies

Hard to breathe when you lose control
Hard to live with the words unspoken
I walk away ’cause I got no home
Empty hole and my body’s shaking…

~*~

My brain

Is an uninhabited

Island, dizzy

As a fog

Eclipses over it

And makes me

Amused

Like laughing gas

Raining down

And dancing

At the tip

Of my reckless

Tongue

Fuzzy images

And the thought

Of not ever thinking

About tonight

Or tomorrow

Or anything

At all

Just me

And my drink

And the stranger

Hazy in front

Of me

Stepping out

To stumble

Outside for a bit

In search of

A greener face

Just another day

To erase

Everything else

Impulsive and

Derisive

Spinning around

And not just

The bottles

In front of me

But my

Own foolish vision

As well, I know

It’s going

To turn out

Really bad after

This high

And the fumes

Will blow

Over soon to

Reveal a mess, but

Morning regret

Just kinda

Feels so

Damn nice…

~*~

I’m in too deep, I sold my soul
I’m out of reach and I can’t let go
I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble
I made my way, a dead end road
I can’t turn back so I walk alone
I’m in trouble, I’m in trouble…

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Filed under Poetry

deliria nervosa

mass hysteria,

melting down into

a million jagged

pieces—of pure

nonsense and

plastic panic

philosophical

diatribes taken like

placebo medicine

lost in a wreck

unopened letters

hanging by a thread

shivering hands

no longer sane

reaching still for

the final claim

so find out before

time inches

forward, a sharp

blade straight down

the left lung,

searching for a

cavity that’s about

to detonate

from cortisol and

mad serotonin

blown out of

proportion, mixing

in confusion but

finding no answer

next to liars and

cancer; euphoria?

pure mania? take your

colours, it’s over

it’s over, the deed

has been done

the consequences

hold the lock, the

key is missing now

and the demons

have been unleashed…

calm your mind

from bad decisions

anxiety’s grasp

will suffocate you

like it did—

like it does and

it will—but please

just keep it down and

let the concrete set

before you sleep

on another pile of

instant regrets.

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Filed under Poetry

angel fever

angel fever

you’re making

me sick

cigarette stains

playing dirty

cold tricks

.

angel fever

you’re running

me dry

cough syrup

and kisses

a sweet lullaby

.

angel fever

don’t send me

home yet

my wings are

still broken

and that i regret

.

angel fever

won’t you pray

for my soul?

your halo’s not

mine, but won’t you

please let me go?

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Filed under Poetry

Bluer Than Blue, Youer Than You

My empty head is so full of blue

Of bleeding skies and listless hues

Lonely petrichor in hidden dreams

Wish my heart wasn’t so evergreen

.

Hoping wasted hexes aren’t obscure

And the daylight stars are kismet pure

I blink, I wake, I sleep, I breathe, I die

With only pacific blue within my eyes

.

You’re efflorescent June, I’m wilting July

Perfume fragrance and perfume-scent lies

Morning coffee, morning hair, morning regret

Blue as bruises, blue menthol, blue until death

.

Gloom in charcoal and acrylic sighs

Rare as a black hole, losing fallen cries

Wearing cold blue like a feverish flu

Lucid repeat, my ocean angel, tidal you

.

My flooded head’s so full of midnight blue

Of pastel horizons coalescing xanthus hues

Raining embers until the hurricane sleeps again

Wish my empty heart wasn’t lacking aquamarine.

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Filed under Poetry

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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Filed under Prose

all hands (around my throat)

This is strange as hell to me
To say out loud it’s happening
What a powerless weight I am feeling
Oh, I’m fighting for a fate so fleeting…

~*~

i’m crossing

lines that

i didn’t know

were there,

taking the

last word in

an endless

argument that

never even began,

and tasting the

chagrin in a

flavourless

tongue.

i danced with

the devil once

and now i’m

struck by love,

no love for

this insanity,

no love for

myself at all—

nothing even

matters anymore.

i blame myself

for what i

didn’t do, for

what i couldn’t

have helped,

blame myself

for what they said

because it’s

easier that way.

i don’t want

anyone’s grasp

to pull me out and

bring me back,

i don’t want

to be named

another specimen;

i just don’t want

to be saved.

and i’m trying my

best to ignore

the voices

coursing in my

veins, draining me

of blood, as they

all hissed away

vindictively

“that could have

been you.”

~*~

You can’t let go, who is this ghost?
I won’t agree, calling my friends
This is for real, emergency…

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Filed under Poetry

Be Something

Nobody thinks what I think, nobody dreams when they blink
Think things on the brink of blasphemy, I’m my own shrink
Think things are after me, my catastrophe at my kitchen sink
You don’t know what that means because a kitchen sink to you
Is not a kitchen sink to me, okay friend?

~*~

If I were to collapse

On myself and care

About the way I speak

And how I do my hair

Then I wouldn’t be here

Then I wouldn’t be dead

I’ll just be an old memory

At the back of my head

Yes, I want to grow up

But I want to do it my way

So I don’t need any handouts

Of so-and-so’s displays

And I’ll take the challenge

But with no instructions

Leave me to figure out

And trip again until i’m done

Because life is meaningless

All this shit doesn’t matter

So I’ll take my chances

And test the deeper waters

Then if I fail, well just be there

To say that “I told you so”

Even then, I wouldn’t care

Because this I know

At least I tried my very best

And I claimed my stakes

Instead of just simply regretting

That I never made mistakes.

~*~

Are you searching for purpose?
Then write something, yeah it might be worthless
Then paint something then, it might be wordless
Pointless curses, nonsense verses
You’ll see purpose start to surface…

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Filed under Poetry

Fill In The Blanks

Regrets infesting before the final choice is made

A look-back taken the wrong way, as resolution fades

Can’t catch a break when I’m running with fractured legs

So I sit in the sheer silence of my own fucking mess

I want to take back something that hasn’t even been done

Exchange clear rationality just for the sake of jumping the gun

When the count’s already over and the ticking clock has won

It leaves only myself wondering until I’m left with none.

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Filed under Poetry

mental block. (3)

***

why did

i say

s o r r y

when

i was not?

***

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Filed under Poetry

Know Thyself

I’m calling you from the future
To let you know we made a mistake
And there’s a fog from the past
That’s giving me, giving me such a headache
And I’m back with a madness…

~*~

When I reevaluate myself

Where do I start to draw the line

Between the beginning and the change

Down my brain or with my spine?

.

When did my hands start shifting

To change pure gold into black rust

And lucidity became obstinate

Covering the mirrors with cold dust?

.

What place was my starting line

And when did I stumble and trip?

Did I get to the checkered finish

Or trampled by my opponents’ feet?

.

Why did my pen become cynical

And my heart run out of honest ink

How did my eyes fail to see the picture

When did my mind cease to think?

.

Have I truly changed for the better

Or did I just become a stranger shape

From fitting out of the cramped box

Because I wished for a little more space?

.

Did I drift away from my audience

As their applause started to sound the same

Was I meant for a moment in spotlights

Or was I meant to hide away my own name?

.

Were these lines on my face here before

Or the lines on my arms and thighs?

And the lines I once thought avant-garde

Are they now nothing but banal lies?

.

And why did my tongue get longer

But the accuracy in their wings clipped

Confusion may soar abound the sky

But my heavy body refuses to lift

.

Regrets and problems, I once could carry

Have broken my back and my will to be

The things I loved, reduced to wistful smiles

Memories once happy turned sorry

.

I wish I didn’t sulk and drain myself

Turn off the lights just to be haunted by ghosts

I fucking wish I didn’t have to be so insecure

To let emotions linger like a gracious host

.

Sometimes I think I really know myself

Until everyone says the complete opposite

And everything I do turns upsidedown

I become less uncertain of my purposeful visit

.

Just who was I? Or rather, just who am I now?

When I reassess, all I do is think and rethink again

It hurts my head, and I’ll just start to lose myself

Better to keep the present than to bury myself in past skins.

~*~

I got rage every day, on the inside
The only thing I do is sit around and kill time
I’m trying to blow out the pilot light
I’m trying to blow out the light
I’m just young enough to still believe, still believe
But young enough not to know what to believe in…

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Filed under Poetry