Tag Archives: revive

Janus and the Beast

There’s nothing like a trail of blood
To find your way back home
And nothing feels as cold inside as heaven down below
I’ve been lost and never found, afraid
To speak my truth out loud
With empty hands I came into this world
And I’ll leave just the same…

~*~

Blood smeared on the walls

Like the smiles on your two faces

Taunting a mechanical reaction

Of storms and clever rhetorics

That died of natural causes

.

But the truth is far from you

This miserable incineration

Of my outer demons breaking

Leaving the scar issues making

News all over my gossipy skin

.

And my migraine’s headlining

Medications inventing versions

Of the story no one wants to tell

Stigmata leaving sensible stigmas

Bitter bidding angels wish you hell

.

Blood smeared all over the walls

Like the frowns on your two faces

Making a cruel definition agreed

Of cyclones and asinine comebacks

That revived the primal nature in me.

~*~

Death, you cannot take me, you’ve tried and failed before
With everything so deafening, each breath worth fighting for
I refuse to be your casualty ’cause pain has its reward
No longer trapped in agony, you cannot take me, I survive the storm…

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Cause Of Death

Have you ever had enough of it?
Straight over it, sick of it, can’t get a hold of it?
Like a drug I need another fix
I’m a moth to a flame and I’ll burn for the hell of it
Battle scar ’cause I lost the fight
Every time I take a breath it’s like I’m losing my life
Fuck it, why am I so dysfunctional?
So irrational? I don’t know what to do…

~*~

The medicine you said you only injected under pressure

Crashing the fluids in your spine, worse than acupuncture

Don’t expect me to stay for another panache dosage round

I’ll down another shot of NyQuil to sleep safe and sound

.

Madness is the disease you declared was the supreme cure

Sane is just an inadequate substitute for the epiphanies pure

But if that’s the case, then why did you have to lock me up

In the asylum you once revered, and my system left to rot?

.

Will they forget the failed experiment that is my botched heart?

When your scientific curiosity deigned for its imminent restart

But the shocking electric currents seemed to pass the wrong way

Now my body’s shaking uncontrollably, and you pushed me away

.

But despite playing the doctor, you killed more than you healed

With each accident you’ve revived, more saline fluid was spilled

It’s okay, I know my nameless wounds would bleed out like death

And I’ll let you mark it in the coroner’s report, outline by the bullet

.

You conducted my autopsy, hoping to find and satisfy the missing answer

I would’ve told you myself, darling, if only you had asked me a little nicer

But when you finally satiate your desire to create and mitigate destruction

I’ll be there standing at the wreckage, all primed to pull the loaded weapon.

~*~

So I push you away until you beg me to stay
Just for the thrill of the chase, you got me intoxicated
Fucked in the head from all the things that we did
But I will never forget I need you, my medication…

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Vanishing Point; All That’s Left Are Traces Of You

And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone forever now
Can you hear me cry out to you
Words I thought I’d choke on
Figure out I’m really not so with
You anymore, I’m just a ghost
So I can’t hurt you anymore…

~This Is How I Disappear; My Chemical Romance

~*~

If you found me gone one day, with nothing but a whirlwind of scattered letters and notebooks and papers, with one parched fountain pen dying of dehydration in the middle, lying forgotten in my dislimned room like an ironic tableau, to indicate the figure, the mass, the emptied space which my once-corporeal missing body once occupied, what would you do?

Would you silently shut the door, lock the house, and leave, leave that damned place that swallowed me whole, and start afresh, burying all memories and preludes of mine, allowing it to be covered in dust and cobwebs along with the crumbling papers, in that lonely dark room in a restless abandoned house, doomed to become another cheap haunted tourist attraction—?

Or would you take a deep breath, gathering all your aplomb and composure in a single oxygen intake, preparing yourself for the worst yet still hoping for the best, grip the knob with sweaty quivering palms, open the door with a prominent creak, and step in cautiously, allowing the darkness of the shadows and the lingering ghosts of what once was to chill your bones and embrace your every being—?

And if you were to choose the latter, if you were to gather all the papers, crumpled, clean, torn-up, every scrap and bit scribbled upon in a fit of either ennui or frustration, and put them together, as if they were the puzzle pieces that will finally solve the complexities and mysteries of my shambled life, and you read them, word for word, letter for letter, line for line and rhyme for rhyme, the mindlessly scratched punctuation and intentionally scratched out words blurring into a singular monstrous emotion that discreetly ravaged and poisoned your child’s system internally, now reforming and threatening to tear at your soul’s throat, as you read the unorganised pastiche of all my regrets, passions, agonies, jubilances, those things that I wanted to say, those things I never said, and those things that I will never get to say, what would you do?

Would you tie those anthologies of pain and paradise altogether in a messy little bundle, and without so much as an apology nor prayer, simply toss them gracelessly into the raging hungry fireplace, letting each scrap of paper curl up like dying butterfly wings and be devoured by the rising flames, starving for memories to destroy, turning my thoughts into bitter ashes, no longer to be sifted and repaired, rather only left to the whim of the wind, to get caught in people’s eyes, leaving my life to be an open case, speculated and falsified upon, leaving the words of the dead to remain dead and only an unspoken echo, a pale blot in the fabric of time—?

Or would you tie those florilegiums of hurt and happiness altogether in a neat little bundle, and with utterances of faith and assurance, share them eloquently with the others wanting in hope, letting each page be turned with eager fingers like flourishing petals of blue forget-me-nots and be devoured by the willing masses, voracious for memories to engrave, turning my ponderings into a spectrum of colours, no longer to be ignored and rotting away in a locked grey vault, rather to be left in the whim of the breeze, to get caught in people’s hearts, leaving my life to be stipulated and validated upon, making the words of the dead come back to life and to gain a voice of their own, a universe itself in the tapestry of time—?

And if you opted for the second decision, and you succeeded, what would you do if you returned to my room one day, and found me, sitting casually on my bed, with an overflowing ink jar dripping murky tears on my desk and a flurry of blank sheets of paper like a hurricane of unconceived literature on the spotless carpet, taciturn as I write out brand new compositions with a faint yet genuine smile on my solid scarlet lips, content with my slowly unfading existence, colliding shades of carnation and pastel tints efflorescing on my pallid cheeks and everywhere else that the bleeding colours chances to touch, revived by your efforts, revived by the memory of my name fresh in everyone’s sentience, unaged and youthful, looking as if I never left, this place, this world, and a void in your mind, in the very first place?

Would you tell yourself that all this, was simply nothing but a tired delusional dream of yours, disintegrating into the aether as soon as you make contact with it—?

Or would you dare step in again, completing a full möbius strip of the vanishing cycle, into my bright phantasmic room, and touch my skin to see if the bubble pops…?

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Filed under Prose

Fallen NecRomancers

The evil that’s between us
Greedy, needy
Self-deceiving, so demeaning…

~*~

You and I are bleeding out the grey dust

That brought us back to our sacred life

And we’re breathing in the silvery trust

And we’re exhaling the softest starlight

.

We’re intertwined, modern Adam and Eve

With darkest serpentine apple that we give

Forbidden selfishly from the garden of Eden

But one went away, and only one remained

.

We’re trying to recreate with just a single inhale

A chaotic experiment that always ended up failed

We’re attempting to rewrite, change, and revive

Something that, in the first place, was never alive.

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