Tag Archives: repeat

Repetitions

Clever minds think alike

Don’t you, don’t you think?

A line so blurred, I can’t decipher

In varying shades of both ink

.

Clever minds think alike

Can’t you, can’t you think?

A curse so shared, it’s almost weird

Or did your mind just blink?

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Of Broken Things and Missing Pieces

I am outside and I’ve been waiting for the sun
With my wide eyes
I’ve seen worlds that don’t belong
My mouth is dry with words I cannot verbalize
Tell me why we live like this…

~*~

Wide eyes, broken fingers, dry mouth fermenting

Flickering lights, damaged windows, keep on screaming

Restore, repair, recover, relapse, and repeat

Picking out the sinews and shreds left in bared teeth

.

Bolted doors, hurt lies, forged padlocks keep away

The monsters with a good memory, even if only for a day

Adorn, adore, admire, abhor, again and again

Growing sick of the cracked facade that’s keeping it all in

.

Forsaken promises, empty scars, rhetoric brings back the dead

Lost cause, cynical hope, turned backs saying go ahead

Forgive, forget, falseness, falter, falling fast, oh fuck all this

Can’t save what doesn’t want to be, can’t put back what has a missing piece.

~*~

‘Cause we are broken
What must we do to restore
Our innocence
And oh, the promise we adored
Give us life again
‘Cause we just wanna be whole…

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silly songs

nursery rhymes

on constant repeat

i’ve memorised the lines

between my teeth

and a pacified child

engrossed by cartoons

the ditties stuck in my head

won’t go away soon.

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Broken Record

It called me, I shoulda known
As the fever sweat through the dream
Told mamma that I couldn’t go
So I could stay home just to watch him dancing
And you could not tell me then
Like you could never ever tell me now
That this is not who I am…

~*~

I lost my way when I told everyone I’m keeping my resolve

I changed directions but hit the brakes when I started to swerve

Blood on the carpet, cracked car window and I don’t regret it

Perhaps it’s just too late, and call me cliché but I just might make it

.

The fever haunts my sleep like a ghost, it keeps me up at night

I’m sweating tears, way past the years of choosing wrong or right

But the final decision won’t be under your static voice’s call

It’s collapsing in weekends and dead ends, need some damage control

.

Reluctance only absolves the manifested consequences it amasses

A separation in the direct degree, as the unread side effects harasses

Querulous impostors screaming diplomatic shrill notes of protests

Drenched to the sin with self-repugnance, scandalising second guesses

.

Those platinum eyes reflect the man submerged in visceral frequency

Staggering the nightmares rushing in my veins, taunting habitual tendency

Show me the alternative to bloodletting and crumpled prescription pills

Embarking to the mistress of a bottle just so time would stand still

.

The blackout makes it easier, ’cause that way I don’t have to look at myself

When the déjà vu is drowning me under familiar sandpits of its miserable help

The taste of being sober, the bitten tongue and the scent of absinthe forsaken

Until I’m too sick and second to none, falling out over and over and over again…

~*~

Showed me that carrot on a string
But just a little too late
The bite from the taste and the smell
Of the sick somehow reminds me to be myself
Over and over again…

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replay

i just want

to put the

whole world

on pause

and play

you on

r e p e a t.

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Earworm

I will never get tired of the song that’s been repeating itself in my head the entire day. It’s a catchy, gorgeous tune, with whimsical lyricism that wrenches the stopper out of my bottled poison heart and pours the acidic contents down the sewer pipes, only to fill it up with a sweeter alleviating potion. Learning to memorise it was simply like unlocking an ancient wooden box that’s been stubbornly resisting itself against the turn of the key, yet now, it gave in sombrely after all its initial protests, and turned over the missing information with a defeated creak and a rustic sigh. Perhaps then I didn’t actually learn it, after all, for it’s already been there all the time, only stored away and fading from thirst of sunlight, dusted off its cobwebs and recovered, and presently brought back into the light. Why, if only I had any sinew or shred of decent musical talent within me, any at all running through the surging bloodlines in my high-strung veins, I would’ve gone ahead and honoured it immediately with calloused fingers strumming a guitar and a mellifluous voice. Instead I’m reduced to shamefully destroying it, sordidly desecrating it, insensibly desacralising it, with the driest of toneless humming and warbling sour notes that are all that my maundering vocal chords can ever manage and propel itself to produce. It really is an amazing song though. I can only hope so tirelessly that I shall tire of it nevermore. Hearing my dearest wishes and heeding only to grant it, the persistent earworm that lodged itself deeply within the inner reaches of my mind is already digging its glinting claws and teeth through my membrane more furiously than before, and popping down on the blood-red couch for another bite. I, to play own provided part and reinstate my role as the hospitable host, will be very welcoming and I shall be quite gracious enough to feed it to its heart’s content with its needed nourishments and let it siphon me shriveled in order for it to gain sustenance. I can’t deny it’s getting worse, but trust me, it’s a blessing and a curse.

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Filed under Prose

Disconcerted Calm

This silent lacuna feels like a nostalgic déjà vu

Remember when this apathy we went through?

Intent stares are wandering off into faux eternity

Five seconds feels like an aeon with a disability

The repeat performance with a sobering encore

And this stale oxygen tastes like decay rancour

A reassuring murmuring, raced musings to take

“The first one to break takes the goddamn cake.”

A singular grain of sand’s wedged in the middle

A scintilla of matter holds back a raging geyser

The clear hourglass falls to a solemn standstill

Whether it resumes or nay depends on our will

A tap of a hangnailed finger, I’m trying to understand

Yet left counting wrinkles into my motionless hands

Then someone breaks the hypnos with a quaint smile

Yet, oh sweet tragedy, my dear, it was neither you nor I.

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