Tag Archives: scorn

Cyclones

make me rewind

the words that i said

as retreating tides

crashed in my head

.

the coastlines swear

the salt breeze screams

tsunamis screeching

this maelstrom deemed

.

but all that’s left

after the angry storm

is a calm darkness

and i drenched in scorn.

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scarstruck

darling,

the brevity

of these scars

dissent us

under swains

of scorn

if the bruises

were to permeate

i’ll fade it

so you won’t be

forlorn.

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frustriert

frustration is

falling off like

stars on the ceiling

against the glow

of the bedroom

i find them crashing

with every light

that blinks out

under its own fire

i bite my tongue

hold my breath

and say i’m a liar

so blame me again

indecisiveness pours

like cement in my nerves

and it’s paralysing

hypnotising, suffocating

every slight verve

i’m holding on

but barely enough

to make a change

confusion ensconces

my heart, comforting

yet quite strange

these emotions are

heavy and overwhelming

like a tantrum storm

and frustration is

winning once again as

i’m drowned in scorn.

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Skip the Formalities, Beau Brummell

You fucking disappointment
I can’t entertain you anymore
These stupid states of mind
Punishing me all the time (why?)
But don’t cross your boundaries
And think that it’s cool, misguided
By darkness and lost on the road…

~*~

Behind this shell of all hardboiled sensibility

Lies a creature asthenic and meek as can be

Suppressing its mentality with sardonic smiles

As blood drips solemnly on monochrome tiles

.

Wounded soul that melts into a jaded saccade

Yet amusing them still with halfhearted tirades

A clause, a parentheses, a whispered undertone

I’m (not) okay, honestly, so (don’t) leave me alone

.

Tribulations on the tongue, caught in a feckless rain

Can’t survive kid, if you’re weak with extraneous pain

Its prosaic personality a palisade of a concealed war

Against shoelaces, razorblades and praying to stars

.

Mad cry of succour insinuated in one cheeky wink

Faux pas gaffe unraveling slow with arrogant calls

Strike three impertinence, but got no time to think

Won’t anyone catch this avalanche when it falls?

.

Behind this recherché, jocularity, and insouciant eccentricity

Lies an afflicted dying monster worn and torn and fear-born

Suppressing its insanity with another apathetic remark witty

For its only weapons and barrier against a cruel world is scorn.

~*~

But I’m such a sucker for the rain
Here we are crashing once again
Into the centre of your moonlit face
Our caved-in ribs, your tears…

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