Tag Archives: shadows

Occhiata

Rarer still, the crest of tides

The phantom women dance and bide

Where laughter speaks in ocean waves

And cold mindless solitary graves

Midnight shadows fended and staved

.

Quieter still, the fall of tides

The phantom women sleep and hide

Where sorrow cries in ocean waves

And moonlit fields of dreamless naves

Midnight shadows that can’t be saved.

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day & night

sometimes,

in the morning

when the sunshine

hits my eyes,

it’s so bright that

it reaches beyond the

very depths of me

and leaves some light

for me to enjoy—

.

but then evening comes,

and the shadows

blind my eyes,

and it’s so dark that

it takes me back into the

very depths of me

and makes me forget

what colours look like…

and i’m not okay again.

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The Last Victim

We are the walking dead
Swallow the lies we’re fed
Uncover your eyes, uncover your eyes
Uncover the truth and you’ll realize
We’re hanging by a thread
We are the walking dead…

~*~

I was convinced of myself, at first.

Before mercy turned to failure and hell begged over to madness, everything seemed to be quite rational. Perfectly-planned. Dare I even say, elegantly beautiful. The conceived scenario played out in my head like an unraveling film spiel, woven into a viscid, intricate web and ensnaring naive hearts, and the sharp, unexpected twist and blunted violent stab of that final ending made the jagged suspense, the heart-wrenching thrill, the never-ending mystery and uncertainty, every slighted emotion thrown out and ravaged by the starving sharks, all of it…made everything worth it.

But now all I have is murder in my tongue, lies over my eyes, and your blood on my hands.

How did it all come to this?

Everything looks so red, even after I thoroughly scrubbed myself clean of the transgression. I made sure to meticulously tidy everything up. White walls, white floor, white bleached palms, white light pouring over the windows, a whiteness so pure and bright it’s fucking blinding, but the red obstinately stays. And it stains. On the white walls, on the white floor, on my chafed shaky hands, all over the room’s white-blanched windows like a sinner’s stained glass art, that redness so dark and demented that I can’t even clearly discern anymore where the colour ends and the shadows begin.

I have no excuse. I have no absolution from the crime I’ve committed. I cannot be pardoned, cannot be forgiven, and I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done. I know I deserve a punishment of nothing less than death. But I didn’t know it would come to this. I didn’t know what I was doing.

But I’m not sorry. And if I had to do it again, I would. Without any hesitations. Without thinking twice.

Without thinking about it all.

God forgive me.

~*~

Can anything bring us back to life?
Will anything make us right?
Can anything bring us back to life?
I’m willing to make us right?
‘Cause the further that we’re falling apart
The more that it breaks my heart…

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eau de cologne

swathes of perfume—

a familiar scent in the storm

bewildered by wonders

and shadows on the dictaphone

renegade tears; again

they surround charlatan hearts

in sounds of scissor envy

the wineglass is fermented sour…

time vanishes into aether.

the threadbare tale of old lovers

bloom on daybreak scorch

akin to an elaborate kaleidoscope

incinerating infinite galaxies.

your anarchy is no longer ghastly

and the oasis of the cityscape

blinks out in a mosaic, one by one

as i quell my febrile miasma

and twist sullen on my empty bed

your form outline is long gone—

but your lingering fragrance remains.

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Stressed or Sad (and Turn Out the Lights)

I brought a knife to a gunfight
I brought my words to a fistfight
I brought my hell to you
And now the boys are back
The boys are sad…

~*~

Let’s talk it it out and let’s talk too loud

And spare our breakdowns for the times it’s not allowed

Deprived of oxygen and choked off to sleep

But I’ll stay awake with you, I guess it’s what we need

‘Cause I may not be the best company but I know a thing or two

About being selfish and pretending to be a happy blue

The clever words and rhetorics make us laugh half to death

Drowning our worries in coffee until it’s dangerous to our health

Because it’s times like these when bitter tastes best

And the yonder moonlight is too delicate to get any deeper rest

But I’ll draw some stars and you can paint them in embers

With what’s left of the sky, we’ll write about what we can remember

We’ll scream about our addictions like loose patients in an asylum

Of the southern boys and houston beats until we’re both tired and dumb

I’ll sing a song out of tune, and your echoes fade to shadows

This is the art of somniphobia, we’re good as we are not tomorrow

Tonight we’ll starve the nighthawks and dehydrate the nadirs of melancholy

Until the petulant sunrise glowers at us for being too damn noisy

We were never meant to stay high in a world that’s not designed for the broken

But let calming music glow in your bones, we’ll be entertained until then.

~*~

You’re so cold
I’ve got to know what made you so
Scared to be alone?
I’ve got to know who chilled your bones
That wasn’t me…

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Does The City Sleep If Everyone’s Awake?

Drop every pretense, drown every sense you own
For the girl that you love, girl you loathe
Insistent pretext, so what does that make god?
To the girl that you love, girl you loathe…

~*~

Follow home the darkness in the midst of distorted lies

A bellicose pretence that overshadows the most jaded of eyes

Entering, surrendering the only control left to be held back

Indignant morose affability surreptitiously painted black

.

For the girl that you love left her heart in the shadows

She’s keeping it there locked tight and burning the evidence

And the boy of your dreams has a nightmare in his head

He keeps a musket under his pillow for such a circumstance

.

Secrets dripping at the tip of their tongue, are you getting tired

Ain’t it so pretty, the way their drunken minds are wired?

The curtain’s coming down, but the burlesque act continues

And the naked audience and all the masked actors are in on the ruse

.

The flickering streetlamps may not last until the end of sunset

And you may have lost your empty wallet stumbling in a cabaret

Taking profound philosophies from barkeeps, pouring another drink

Don’t know if that sleaze three tables over winked or just blinked

.

Follow home the oncoming intrusion of light in the haze of inebriation

An avaricious pretence that promptly overpowers any realistic temptation

Surrendering the only control that wasn’t there to hold back in the first place

Coruscating affiliations underhandedly leaving hearts without a single trace.

~*~

The girl that you love, girl that you love
Girl that you love knows you don’t
Followed her, followed her
Followed her, followed her home…

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A Lightless Window

Lately when I’m alone I keep thinking about the past
I’m trying to feel weak in my knees again
I want to stand up straight like when I graduated
I just want to be, just let me be worth your time…

~*~

The blinds remained closed

As the person behind them thawed

Melting into evanescent shadows

They’ve been crying for a while, now

.

The stars may seem decadent

But all they taste of is a violent death

Apologies may seem so early

But they’re always a subsequent regret

.

And heartaches are cured

By the lifelines on your opened palm

Begging for another chance

To be saved from anyone, by anyone

.

But the blinds remained closed

As the person behind them coalesced in glow

Falling away into vice and virtue

And they’ve been screaming for a while, now.

~*~

Too much time spent overthinking
Yeah, I’ve spent too much time
Feeling like I should be sinking
I can’t fix everything around me (And it’s okay)
I can’t make everybody happy (And it’s okay)…

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standing in the shadows

I’ve been living so long in the darkness
I know the cold embrace of the night
When morning comes I close my eyes
‘Cause I’m blinded with the light
Taking a chance of a feeling
Is like waiting for a flower to grow…

~*~

i don’t know if i can

still wait for the shadows

to form into a decipherable shape

.

patience is a suit in my sleeve

and love is a foreign language i can’t speak

in a consciousness that won’t awake

,

i don’t know if i can

still expect that the silhouettes

will coalesce into what they always

ignorantly called “fate”

,

but i’ll stand here

in the darkness

and i’ll wait…i’ll wait.

~*~

Too many people
Are standing in the shadow
Standing in the shadow of love…

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see no evil, fear no evil

i counted seventeen vultures

circling above to rend my spoiled flesh apart

and feed me to their starving children

.

i thought i saw a raven

mocking my unfortunate fate

perched solemnly on a chiseled granite bust

weeping with plutonian pondering

.

as the foolish crows

sang me a heartless elegy

the epistles crumbled to ashes in my palms

and my fountain pen dried out

into blotted shadows

.

if only heaven were to open up

and save me from the ominous darkness

but there’s no room for another soul

to save; no vacancy to give

.

so i huddle beneath the branches

of the dying willow tree

and waited for them to take me alive.

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The Home Inside My Head

I’m getting pretty good at leaving, my patience isn’t wearing thin
Autumn never ends in my head, no matter how far I’ve been
It feels like everybody is the branch and I’m the leaves
Falling from the top of every leafless tree…

~*~

Seven lies, to make up for the ones I spent on you last night

Veneration and admiration melting into stained-glass spites

Memories triggered on the revolver with an empty chamber

A diamond bullet for each bloodstain that I fail to remember

.

This is way more complicated than smoking on the dashboard

And sitting on the basement stairs, tying another noose’s cords

An apartment with a single chair and a couch to accommodate

The monsters that visit my bedroom when I am staying up late

.

Doorways without a doorknob, a stone key without a brass lock

A broken doorbell with a barren picture frame, so please knock

Provisions of diverse renditions settling in moth-frayed drapery

Your overplayed excuses taste like naphthalene on dust bunnies

.

Under the lampshade where you hid those secrets and the baggage

You stowed away with hallmark cards and epipens for easy storage

Brass tacks and rusty corkscrews can’t alter the sound of voicemail

Last year it was our symphony, now it’s just another ire on the scale

.

A ghost of the tenant occupying an abandoned and decrepit residence

Ancient tales of foreboding snatched by shadows, gaunt reminiscence

The home inside my head feels much more spacier with a lodger gone

Past vacant stares and for sale signs, perhaps it is time I end my haunt.

~*~

The home inside my head has a bed for me
That no one will ever get the chance to see
A kitchen table with one chair, walls with
Empty picture frames no one will ever see…

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