Tag Archives: replace

Jealous Butterflies and Ochre Moth Wings

We’re just two jealous souls breaking envy against the tidal waves, bleeding out elaborate cesspools fervently, and leaving soundless mouths agape for the stained porcelain butterflies to enter, hoping that the fragile incipient creatures would exit our perfidious throats undaunted and provide our dilapidated larynx with an ameliorated song to sing. Yet we only manage to choke on their flimsy polychrome wings and cough them out unceremoniously before we suffocate, the meek and hapless butterflies bent in twisted angles, traces of leaden dust leaving residues of faithful solemnity in our tinted lips, tongues whispering the painful words that no sane mentality dares to hear, destroying the only scant chances for our treasonable prayers to receive heaven.

Then, after all the nascent vituperation that ensconces our quiet bones like an impaired skylight, where would we be? Plucking burnt tawny moth wings out of wilted candle wicks in the destitute hopes that they shall acquiesce the same way those quaint looking glass butterflies did, yet never realising that there is no fraudulence nor varied substitute for that abstract tessellation, that modicum of infinity, that metamorphosed dimension that those nebulous lepidopterons accumulate and exhale. Recovery cannot be replaced, and a replacement cannot be recovered. Amid the failing maiden glow and taffy-stretched daydreams, there is only maligned reverie by maimed lightweights, attempting to endow the subtler nuances of this life a vaguer and more coruscant definition.

Against the jade-eyed desires that we fought ever so vigilantly with inured devastation and bargained discrepancies, against the covetous recidivism and the elaborate secondhand lies that come tucked along within it like opening a painted russian nesting doll, against the prehensile avarice ascending above everything and drowning us in its remorseless cyclone, our jealous souls stand resolutely falling apart. There are no more iridescent enamel butterflies to count prismatic wishes on, no more ashen moth wings to cling onto fragments of faith for, no more candid humility and hackneyed selflessness and altruistic implications, only an imminent invidia and bilateral resentment. Reality ensues, and chaos along with it. Where will our lost nightmares dream now?

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Filed under Prose

A Phantom Earl’s Missing Shadow

Two halves of a heart, in a chamber conferred

A though lost in shadows, the coffin of a womb

Two souls rendered apart, deathwish conspired

The first went away, the second did as he desired

.

A past of flames and treachery, daggers blooming red

Family shattered to pieces, innocent boys left for dead

A sacrifice undertaken, and a contract written in blood

Twists and turnstiles turned, execution of the death gods

.

A play set in stone, of clones and four leaf clovers

Names merged together, cascade grey and lavender

A life taken for his own, for the person he thus lost

Never mind the consequences and dignity it has cost

.

The ruse would’ve been clandestine, but the other found out

And he returned to take back the key in the padlock of doubt

Their shock tangibly pulsating, as the reunited twins collided

Truth uncovered from a well of lies, leaving them confounded

.

A story of two rival fates, their inheritance set by a deliberation of wolves

The tale revolves in a case turned cold, and mysteries remained unsolved

Of a  boy and his uncanny copy, what their damned trails may both befell

Whether the end of the story hangs by a thread or a rope, only time will tell.

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Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry

rewrite

i’m so tired

of writing

to make up

for the words

i fucking lost

even if i wrote

a million books

it won’t replace

for what it cost.

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Filed under Poetry

assumptive apologies thrown out at the walkway

Isn’t it obvious I’m a wreck
I set these fires just for you
Isn’t it obvious I’ve calmed down
I saved my breakdowns just for you…

~*~

i’m sorry that

i was never there.

that i was just

one trivial moment

in all of life’s

sordid complexities,

the benzedrine

you impulsively take

at three in the morning,

effects shooting up

your severed veins

but always subsiding.

i just wish i didn’t

have to feel like

a counterfeit dollar,

washed up and torn apart

because i look far

too factitious to be

of any use for anyone;

or that final cigarette

you take under the midnight

streetlamps to experience

thrill one last time

before you stop forever.

my conscience feels

strangely disembodied.

i don’t know if

this guilt is justified

or simply being irrational

i don’t know if my

attachment is paramount

or just another necessity

like sleep, or food,

that you can easily replace

i don’t know if i’m

overused, or misunderstood

or i’m simply being

a complete presumptuous,

one-sided, narcissistic

fool about all of this…

i don’t know my function.

i’m confused by your confusion,

and i’m sorry if i’m wrong

but i’ll be even more

sorry if i turn out to be

right.

~*~

I want what I need, I need what I want
And I’m not what you wanted
I felt you slowly slip away, those cemetery eyes
These seven deadly sins, these forty days of night
Have severed all our ties…

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Filed under Poetry