Tag Archives: sadness

a cup of warm tea; and the aftertaste of trauma

Sometimes I feel cold, even paralyzed
My interior world needs to sanitize
I’ve got to step through or I’ll dissipate…

~*~

the bitter of tea, the tang of lemon—and that subtle hint of summertime sweetness, melting into my tongue in one drowsy haze.

paint-stained hands clutch at the warm mug for dear life, and i take tentative sips and let the aromatic seasons dance around my mouth a bit, as if this very dark liquid itself was my final tether to this plane of existence.

perhaps, in some ways, it quite is.

the effect of sleepiness arrives to swoop me back in sluggishly, allowing me to momentarily lean back and stare blankly at the faces on the wall, all eager teeth and pastel craft paper, curling and fading all the way to wandering oblivion; but only a single smile really captured my absent mind’s attention. i wryly picture how it would look against later impressions of dirty blonde and crystalline azure, peeking rather shyly behind deep laugh lines and a few animated freckles peppered across pale skin, endearingly elusive.

sinking in; and sinking still. the effervescent mania that violently grabs me by the shoulders and dares to push its reckless fingers right in the middle of my tender ribcage, refusing to cease digging around until it finally hits something vital. lung, artery—the unfortunate heart itself, perhaps?

but—as i am melancholically assuaged—i am sure it will find only a hollow cavity where a beating organ used to rest. disappointed? not really. i’m painfully aware that already long ago have i been deemed one of the young naivetes who willingly sold it away, to someone who didn’t even know they were searching for damaged antiques. i practically gave it away for nothing.

and yet, where is it now?

is it gathering cracks and dents in someone’s mantlepiece, within a dusty old bungalow? is it buried lost under a child’s messy closet, along with broken toys and past innocence and all their other outgrown things? perhaps, has it already been traded away by its secondhand owner without a brief hesitant thought or a pause of chagrin, in exchange of a better, prettier, newer one?

ah, no matter…no matter. i no longer feel it anymore, anyhow.

cosmic snapshots. a feline grey and glimmering yellow eyes. lilting snatches of an unwritten song dedicated to the moon. murky rain dripping rhythmically from the plastered holes on the ceiling. a perfect pink photograph more potent than any flavour of tea or dosage of coffee, keeping me up well into the witching hours and then some. just another wordless poet. just another tired pen.

your bitter blue. my summertime sadness. the promise of morning, and nothing else.

~*~

And you know
You’re a terrible sight
But you’ll be just fine…

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wake-up call

it’s 6 a.m.

i’m nursing

a three-day

migraine as

i clutch onto

my half-empty

coffee mug

afraid that i may

completely slip

out of sanity,

lest i keep hold;

on the messy

unfinished sketch

of the face i’ll

never get to

hold close to

mine, except for

these subtler

moments of

mourning—

when my

creased-up

forehead

lightly touches

against the

paper, beneath

the shaky table;

catatonically tired

from carrying

along the weight

of the world

that wasn’t mine

to ever exist in.

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innocent

i just want to be innocent again; to have the cracks in my fingernails repaired and the holes in my teeth patched up and my frayed nerves replaced, i want to unlace the dreadful knots in my veins and scare all of the bad thoughts away and find new ways to feel again, ones that do not involve hurt and hate and heartbreak, but instead holds laughter and hope and faithful love—simple words for a simple soul. i just want to be innocent again

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present to past

i gave a gift

to sadness

and he threw

it all away

.

the only emotion

i have left to give—

.

and it doesn’t want me to stay.

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Neurotic

Sadness is sadness

Until it’s reversed

Frowns turn to madness

And smiles perverse

.

Writing is writing

Until a mind notices

Words turn to endings

And stories to sense.

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mental block. (1)

***

i’m caught

between

sadness

and fear

question is,

where do i

go from here?

***

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Halo Blue

We tore our phones to shreds
We didn’t answer nothing
To all friends and family, lost or dead
I couldn’t get much sleep
You lost your self in mine
It couldn’t get much worse…

~*~

Systematic shutdown, and one by one my optimism closes

You pulled the plug on the starlight that keeps me awake

I may not be in my melting point, but I’m still a hot-lead mess

I think I’d rather stay dead than to keep my tongue fake

.

There’s nothing else I would feel if not for our blue hair bet

But mine is deep ocean dark, yours is a bubblegum ice cream hue

Even if we blended together, we can’t ever be a scarlet sunset

Does that mean we should just stop trying? I say it’s all up to you

.

I’m usually full of shit, but I like you and I don’t like anyone, hey

You’re one of my favourite few, and if I were well-versed, I could say

That my eyes are only four glimpses away from reaching your sun

But I’m not, so I guess all I can say is a cliche point-blank ‘you’re fun’

.

Fine, it’s not all about me and my sadness, but I don’t have to care

I’ve been withholding my cries for help ever since I discovered it was there

I might not be cool enough for your cult, but I wanna join the club

Of the haters asking for another lobotomy and demented idiots equally in love

.

With this systematic shutdown’s taking over, one by one my cynicism closes

And you pulled out the wires and circuits to turn off the stars that burned into my sleep

I don’t think I’m thinking straight from thinking about your thoughts all the time

But I would rather stay down than to keep lying to myself about what I can take and keep.

~*~

I think I’ll die obsessed
Let’s give up fighting back
You don’t need to grip the best
Because we’re lucky people
And you’ll never have to sleep alone…

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Saturni Ad Infinitum

~*~

CHANGE OF PACE

To see the clouds dragged down in vain

Another schism pulled away into disdain

An aftershock of cyanide writ in red letters

The austerity banished and again embittered.

~*~

MIKO

Disconnected dissension dwelt in maiden shrines

A lone voice seeks peace in a tempest of rigid design

In precarious erudition and fraudulent disputation

As her ebony tapestry is burned in laureate predilection.

~*~

DELLE PIOVERE

Recherche glistening in rusticated reveries of diamond dewdrops

An avalanche of labyrinthine dreams brimming to the cusp

Illicit, a monochrome heart searches tranquility in the midst of dissonance

Nihilism whispers for each staccato beat, as behind the pale moon, shadows dance in elegance.

~*~

TAKING BACK RED

Notches on the canvas that used to be the purest of white

Now reduced to common insanity, pilfering a virgin sight

Chagrined wish never uttered, held at the back of interface

And hope—against hope, that the ruptures will be erased.

~*~

CHASING FOR A GLIMPSE

Just tell me when you’re down, and we can go downtown

To paint the rain with auburn blues, draw on every smiley face a frown

Just tell me when you’re not alright, and we can stay all night

To pen about storms in chemical black, write until you take back the light.

~*~

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A Week Washed Up In Melancholy’s Undertow

~*~

SUNDAY: TIE ME UP AGAIN

The bright stars are rudely burning my eyes

And that cherry sunset sky is badly rotting

The moon frowns back in a dulled disguise

When my soul finds life severely disappointing.

~*~

MONDAY: YOU COULD FILL ME IN

I dial the knobs and tune to your station radio

And once upon a time, I heard melodic music

But your airwaves changed into a distorted audio

And now all I hear is a dinning unpleasant static.

~*~

TUESDAY: I’LL BE FINE WITH IT

I shoot my bullet kiss through a small shaky dime

Held between your teeth and trembling fuchsia lips

An inch more, a heart-less, and you might’ve died

But are you glad, my dearest love, that I’ve missed?

~*~

WEDNESDAY: I KNOW HOW TO SWIM

Call my arctic cloudy hopes dangling overhead

But it’s raining storms, a cumulonimbus crying

And I’m left shivering, sneezing, badly drenched

Rendered sick by my own coldest falling optimism.

~*~

THURSDAY: SEND A HURRICANE TO ME

These playground games are no longer fun

The red metal swing set is creaky and rusted

Empty staccato of children shouting as they run

From a happy childhood long past evanescenced.

~*~

FRIDAY: SINKING NEVER FELT SO SWEET

Fade in, fade out, show of just another sfumatic spectre

Blending in the vestiges, blending in the damp colours

Fade in, fade out, fade until I turn into an invisible grey

Waiting for the day I fail to reappear and completely fade away.

~*~

SATURDAY: STUCK IN YOUR UNDERTOW

Bobbing against the deepest aquamarine waters, float, sink, float, sink, float, sink, float

Submerged into an abyssal trench of disconsolence, hanging barely by a splintered boat

Drown, gasp, struggle by the waves, yet in the end I curl into a peaceful ball and sink slowly

And accept the pressure that crushes my weakened lungs as I drift in undertows of melancholy.

~*~

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Little Blue Butterfly

Little blue butterfly

Dancing in the pink skies

Past the green lands grassy

Aren’t you just very pretty?

.

Little blue butterfly

Now don’t you dare cry

For beauty is your grace

Adding colour to our days

.

Little blue butterfly

All you ever do is try

Flutter against the cold rain

Fight against the harsh pain

.

Little blue butterfly

Why do you sadly sigh?

All the sweet nectar is gone

Chromatic flowers wilted on

.

Little blue butterfly

Why do you still lie?

Try to exude hope as you fly

But truth is…

Don’t you just want to curl up and die?

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