Tag Archives: song

rusty mailbox

you’ve got that

american blue in the very pits

of your iris,

and sometimes it feels

almost electric

but i know i’ll just end up

with a black eye if i

keep on staring

i’m not usually this brand of rude

but i can’t help it

if i’m cliché suckered

by that beach-at-early-gentle-dusk

kind of blond,

figure i could still taste

sea salt in my throat if i inhaled

hard enough

maybe you’re afloat

waiting for

a false breakwater romance

drowning siren song

with a hateful kinda endearment

and speaking of

you hate sports and my visual arts

but you like virtuous

green heroes

and staying up for 38 hours

and i like monochrome serial shows

and the number of

sweets i could still spell out

if i threw your full name

in an anagram machine and let it

run wild, here’s one:

cotton candy

maybe that’s no fun for you

don’t worry, it’s no fun

for me either

but it’s always fun to dream a bit

afternoon stargazing

spitting grey fur

overthinking about it some more

buttercup, that’s not one

but i quite like it pinned on your hair

if you won’t mind

i don’t live near a garden

but we could always find some way

or another

to quote a reference

for something

you probably don’t listen to—or do you?—

i’m never gonna see it

all in bloom

because now

it’s almost late spring

(summer ’round my axis)

and not fantasy football season

and i think i love you

all the same

so maybe i’ll just stretch

out my stiff spine

write a generic letter with no

return address

and turn the unplugged television on

just to see how it all

pans out.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

7:38 AM 🔆


Just a quick rainy Saturday morning cover of She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5. There’s a lot of background noise from outside the streets as this once-tranquil town slowly rouses back to its usual bustling state, and I had only been awake for probably around an hour thirty then and my dumb brain was still stumbling through a rather sleepy daze—that’s why my voice isn’t in the best condition (but tbh when is it ever lmao :^/) and I look like a wretched bleary-eyed hag and there’s quite a bit of mistakes here and there, but eh, that’s alright. I’m honestly just cosying up a bit (with this soft little chonky baby i call my artemis, i love her sm ahh <3) and trying to warm myself up before the day fully goes underway to fuck me over once more. God morgon, alla~

Leave a comment

Filed under Other stuff

Oh, what they think about you?


Just a bit of a really quick take, while my whole family is out eating dinner so I have the house all to myself, and I’m waiting for the paint on my sketchbook to fully dry. Goodie Bag by Still Woozy has been stuck in my head like mad lately and it’s such a trip of a time to play and sing. This entire song is mostly barre chords sans the E—I very much preferred the original key as it’s actually all barre, which makes it more comfortable and a whole lot easier for me to switch between chords; but I had to take it half a step down because my g-danged voice just cannot for the life of me reach that high hahah—it could barely reach this one either like jfc that horrible falsetto could shatter ten windows and deafen a damn dog but y’all swear to geoff I tried. There was an Attempt. T’was a rather poor one, but an attempt nonetheless. Some parts aren’t even supposed to be high-note anyhow but hey, I like a good challenge. Still gotta work on the higher pitches and vocal blending though, my head and mixed voice sucks colossal dick lmao. Also heyyy, I finally got a haircut after a bajillion centuries of looking like Chewbacca and Bigfoot’s long-lost bastard child from an unspoken long night and got all that bitch shaved off for further convenience, and I’m not even kidding but my head feels at least 10 pounds lighter. I highkey look like a dumbass egg but at least I’m not an overheated dumbass egg, so ha-HA, fuck you summer! (> : D) Also thinking about getting what little hair I have left dyed some cool abrasive neon colour soon for extra punk points (as everyone in this household also keenly suggested to me, idk why but it’s an enticing idea nonetheless). Anyway, apologies for going off the rails a bit. I kinda keep switching between a flurry of random tasks and end up not finishing a good half of them (I really gotta finish reading Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter and catch up on Duolingo lessons and watch more Not Going Out but my fickle attention span refuses to let me, halp), but someone’s gotta make a decent creative downtime somehow, whittling away idle time and whatnot as it were. So this is one for the books, check and done. Jag är fånig, förlåt! ✌️

Leave a comment

Filed under Other stuff

Underexposed

you know

how much

i adore you,

don’t you?

.

the way my

soft lungs pop

whenever you

see through me

.

a frail disillusion

when it bursts

cornflower eyes

pale significantly

.

and i just never

expect any of

your attention

to be mine, even

.

for just a second

for a transient hi

for a few infinities

i ask for your sign

.

every line on my

canvas, every fold

on my journal, every

fifth in your songs

.

odd dedications

and a sudden stop

i will never cease

making every wrong

.

though i could only

ever do so much

before it’s too late

and you find me out

.

but you will never

know how much

i simply adore you,

now won’t you?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

circling infinity

colder nights

where i wish

your limbs

are intertwined

with mine

summer snowfall

cotton fibres

wandering

empty branches

all over again

vast meadows

for ancient souls

to rest on

fragrance of

inkstains and dying

strawberries

breeze whistling

haunting melodies

but i stay away

from noisy static

and i listen to

a smiling song,

hidden blush

distractions

oh, i don’t mind

messy clouds

clearing up

a splatter

of shy stars

slowly make way

for a painted

embrace

fairy lights and

oceanic laughter

lying in wait

a soft illusion

of hyperrealisms

and misplaced

daydreams

fell dryads of life

neither mine,

nor yours

our transience

taking chances

still fighting

against control

and colours

and this violent

riot of frigid

chemicals

blissful nothing

smitten euphoria

an oxytocin kiss

for a love that

won’t exist

in a future

vespertine or

less miserable

than a cold night

all alone,

contemplating

sombre and lost

picking dead grass

from high tops

and sweaters

and tangled veins

gently hoping for

a vacancy, yet

unraveling at

the harshest thought

of somebody else

interlocked with

your limbs

arms and legs

talks and lips and a

puzzle of bones

and reposing bodies

tranquil hush

whispers of blue

fading away

and falling down

keeping all of your

warmest nights.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

wanderlust

you are

raindrops

trickling into

my blood

.

the sight of

the new world

after a long

tiring voyage

.

rusty chain links

rattling against

the street youth’s

scuffed shoes

.

five thousand

ways to say

maybe i like

the way you are

.

warm sunset

trapped in

a mason jar

and buried

.

an innocent

kind of swear

the one that

draws a blush

.

the humming

at the back of

a sad song

in b flat minor

.

a ticklish

kind of green

sticky clumps

of feline fur

.

the start of

a good movie

a back-alley

kind of kiss

.

a saturday

forgotten

a leap year

birthday blues

.

argonaut dreams

and cosmic hail

and candle wax

and old poetry

.

you are all

these things

and more, but

you are not

.

h e r e

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Synapses

My head’s like loopy strings and rubber bands, I try my best to keep it running smoothly but it tangles and snaps and that kinda gives me a migraine something awful, so I just stick pins and needles in my scalp and hope it will at least sew up a nice little embroidery for my dreams to enjoy tonight, or maybe pluck me a song I haven’t heard though these stretchy things aren’t really made for music but still, that would be quite nice now, wouldn’t it?

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Solus

i miss the solitude of comfort

the breathless etudes that waltzed

around my bruised wrists and

made me think of distal vagaries—

beyond the thought of epiphany

none so vague, fallen anechoic sigh

brackish, your ocean salt, i elude

without objection, spinning starlings

and maxims that barely touched

the very tip of your aquiline outlines

nostalgia for months long passed

though, it seems centuries, impaling

my wit’s ends and ensconcing me

in linen funeral wear; wary sunshine

stains the blinds as my lungs take

a convulsive hiatus, scheming against

better company, scant afterglows

and that abstract sensation of leaving

the confines of my home after all

the stars had long burned out and the

city has long moved away from me,

from beckoning me, call my siren song

my swan song, epoch of resolution…

breathing, i miss the comfort of solitude.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

#StayWoke


Alright, my cat Artemis is taking a nap in the other room and the walls of this house are paper-thin so I probably shouldn’t be kicking up some insane noise like this in the bedroom—but then againnn, Artemis is finally fuckin asleep and this is probably one of the rare chances I’ll get to record anything today, so screw it. Sorry for disturbing you a lot, furball.

Anyway, yeah. Here’s a kinda lazy cover of Redbone by Childish Gambino. I’ve been really obsessed with the song ever since I stumbled upon a damn good acoustic version of it somewhere online, and I decided to go ahead and put my own little spin on it while the hype in my brain is still wildly burning even though I haven’t even fully memorised it yet ffs. So if you could just kindly ignore all of the tiny mistakes and earth-shaking voice cracks, since this was like my third take and the entirety of my untrained, untalented, compromised vocal folds were giving up on me. It’s just not built for this kind of fuckery, lemme tell you. Also I spent literally an entire afternoon hunkered down in front of my broken laptop, messing around on Audacity and trying to salvage the shitty audio for what it’s worth, so does that earn me brownie points? Ah, whatever.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a tired cheeto baby to pet back from her rousing slumber, ja.


Leave a comment

Filed under Other stuff

riparian

she is the

riverbank

that’s long

since dried up

i left her as

she gently

wept, a sullen

serenade

.

she is the

faint taste of

lavender in

my nightmares

i don’t miss it

all that much

but i still wake up

with wet eyes

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry