metal & skin (xi.)

waiting for the right

time to come

isn’t really helping

all it does

is further intensify

the agony

that you’re prolonging.

[R/L]oss

I’m losing a perfect thing

Past the pastel cracks glaring

Those western eyes were once mine

Now only concrete I could define

Distractions, cold stars on my skin

The sunset whispered words again

Life wasn’t a movie, I got scared

I’ve taken measures not to be prepared

Drag the motivation it burns away

Chafed like elbows on mannequin display

I’m sorry, the phrase casually bland

But there’s no proper way to understand

Chekhov’s gun pointed in my throat

It used to be my sole source of hope

Now it hunts me like a pack of vampires

The situation is a demon, black eyed and dire

I’ll always keep it, I’m afraid to lose this universe

The thought of freckles is such a blessed curse

On a flimsy canopy, past the bed I’ve made

Please don’t let it fade, please don’t let it fade…

trigger-happy

coddling a gun

and eating suicide

they’re scared

but fuck it, i’ve never

felt more alive.

Sleep: Letting Go Of Your Dreams

“There are these terrors, and it’s like, it feels like as if somebody is gripping my…are these terrors, and it’s like, it feels like as if somebody is gripping my throat…not like tremors, worse than tremors, there are these terrors…at night, there are…not like tremors, these are worse than tremors, there are these terrors, and it’s like, it feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat and squeezing…and like as if somebody was grip—”

~*~

Falling asleep…

A faint dream

In an elevator scene

An exploration

A decrepit room

And finally,

A music box song

That seeped

Onto reality…

Turning into

Static and wails;

Hell’s personal melody

Roaring madly

Past my ears

And the nightmare began.

Jolted into limbo

The familiar room

Materialising in front

Of my tired eyes,

But what the hell…?

I cannot sleep,

I cannot wake up,

And I can’t move...

I can’t move.

God help me,

I fucking cannot move—!

An invisible force

Pressing down on me,

Sent crawling chills

Down my skin

With every attempt

Of futile movement,

Dinning noise

Painfully screeching

Against my ears,

A beast has

Taken control of me

And I don’t know

What to do anymore.

Heartbeat panicking

And mind in a frenzy,

I tried to be calm,

To be stupidly rational

With instructions

That came out

Of a 911 operator’s

Mollifying mouth…

Okay, think this out!

You can do this.

Wiggle your toes.

A hallux, a minimus,

Just try it, okay?

There, good!

It’s working now…

Just try to move,

An arm, a leg,

A muscle, anything

At all, and then

Wait for it to spread

Across your body…

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

It doesn’t work.

I’m stuck.

I cannot break away

From the demon

That pins me

Within its claws

Rendering me

Immobile,

And screams

Triumphantly loud

In banshee roars

Deafening me

Of common sense.

I’m. Fucking. Trapped.

So what now?

Helpless as I’m

Paralysed, frozen

In a foetal position

Half conscious,

Half unconscious

Lying in my bed,

Unable to move

Or shout for help,

I give up

I’m reduced to

Waiting for it

To simply end;

Waiting for the

Monster to be sick

Of such games,

Waiting for reality

To take me back

And wake me up,

Waiting anxiously

For that final

Sweet release…

But will it even come?

~*~

“…Sometimes I see flames. And sometimes I see people that I love dying and…it’s always…and I can’t…I can’t ever wake up.”

Fear in the Heart of the Beast

It’s senseless, isn’t it?

Chasing stars like this. A malevolent race of blood and starlight, dust and galaxy, radiance amid vespertine. The vulnerabilities I partake with reproachful glances and consternated sighs, as another concatenation languishes itself woefully from my tremulous velvet palms. All the unnecessary perplexities. Chatoyant winks. Recrudescent idiosyncrasies. Pyrrhic viciousness. It’s almost maddening, like pulling at a switch to turn on the dark. The desuetude of prayer, the imbrication of penitence against sin, the self-sustaining cycles of ultracrepidarianism against the gallimaufry voices, ridden with febricula and rallying beyond this pannychis, begging to be heard. Yet my solitary garrison quavers none, and left to my own devices, I arm myself against those shots in the midnight, forays into forests of violent crimes, heart hammering against my Adam’s apple so harshly that I am confident I may simply poke my tongue out and watch its scarlet palate throb. The fear, the intensity, the asperity of it all, finally taking its toll on me before I waned away my lurid admonition; my enemy was not those who wish me dead at their skins, it is I and this foolish quavering soul. The paroxysms of resentment and infinitesimal blinks and twitches of arrogant pain jolting through my spinal fluid, kneecaps shattering and popliteal sweating as I kneel forcibly, succumbing indignation and surrendering both hands to the efficacious reign of the nightmare, derisive silhouette shifting only ever smugly in its carved skeletal throne, positioned rightly upon a bejewelled vestibule. The requiem wails its bereft knell. One by one, the myriad astrology coruscates into wretched dimness. The universe has gone out. Only nonexistence, spilling with emptiness and triumphant in its ironic vitality, remains to be seen. The nightmare sneers. Too late.

And, at the very destruction and devastation of both my tantamount solidarity as well as the fabric of reality, at the amusing otiosity of it all, at the grandest scheme of this laughable redundancy, I can only wonder with a morbid rickety grin, unto what end shall it all lie?

☆ me ★

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

i never cared much

for a mirror.

frivolous and vanity

and terror

at what you might

see there

like ghosts or parallel

to give scares

but what chills me

personally is

not the monsters or

distort oddity

it’s if i looked into a

mirror and

don’t fancy what i see

and it’s not

a spectre, but simply

just me.

♫•*¨*•.¸¸♪

Come To Life

when the

reality sets

and the rain

i can feel

.

on my skin

as i run in

a panic, a

dazed reel

.

yelling and

quivering, i

mumble and

choke thrills

.

it’s always

plagued me

every single

night i heel

.

a hole in my

teeth and a

throat lump

big as a hill

.

one foolish

mistake and

i failed their

test of skill

.

now its all

chasing me

my irrational

dark fears

.

attempting

to figure out

if this is just

all false will

.

or this isn’t

a dream and

that levee is

set up for kill

.

fragments fall

from my mouth

as i cease and i

make myself still

.

giving up on the

lost, as enamel

bones grind and

chilled dry tears

.

blood is flowing

warm as a heart

pain is setting in

thereon and here

.

and the focus, it

clears, and the

phantasm has

dispersed nil

.

my trepidation

grows and my

spinal fluids

freezes fills

.

and i know, oh

horror—! that

this is not just

another spill

.

everything is

corporeal; my

nightmare has

become real.