Tag Archives: soul

Sedate

I’m starving for medicine—

For a thousand clattering

Pills indulged all at once,

Dropping like snowflakes

On my withered tongue…

.

I’m starving for some sleep—

For a million hazy dreams

Coalesced softly all at once,

Showering like hail and sleet

Impaling my withered soul.

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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.

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Echopraxia

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I am not as truthful with my words

As I am with the mirror of another person

Irritating, a mimicked eloquence in my every verve

A quiet death in between the lines of reason

.

Yet I yearn to be autobiographical

To move the hills with my own sorrow

Bleed ocean waves with the sound of my voice

Crashing, cresting—swollen abyss

.

No one will touch it with a paperweight

My skin itches with healed sores, my mouth

Itches with the desire to be heard,

My mind is severed from my body; regret, culminating

.

They hear my suffering but not my thumping heart

I think it to be nonexistent—am I the truth?

No one notices me. No one comes near. No one

Prays for the crying shadow in the corner of the room.

.

So I atone with my own subtle mess. The ink stains

They praise me for my joy—my lack of it, my lack

Of self-respect, my lack of nerves within the soul—as soon as

This chapter closes, my lies become no more than another neglected tale.

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pseudonym [9]

CRY, CRIER

soak my tea in tears

maybe salty or bitter

or tasteless flavours.

INTERSPERSE

this old soul, it wanes

fading, my transparent veins

farewell to my pains.

ZIGZAGS

darling, we’ll dance now

find your song in slow tempo

i’ll adore you so.

ESCALATOR

staring, the staircase

malls and dollar stores closing

rush, trip, battered face.

KICK ME DOWN

talk me so toxic

lost a couple of loose teeth

talk me i’m so sick.

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Dear Mexican Bean :^)

Voice like an angel wandering lost in hell

Indelible words that cut beyond the teeth

Classic candidness, gentle grin left to tell

Thorns and trickery, twisting tines sweet

Over and past, your chase makes me well

Reprised recovery to sing me back to sleep

.

Feathers and caramel skin clash in shades

Underwater elegance, a bitter promenade

Every story you tell staunches the bleeding

Nevermind forever, momentum is fleeting

To every faded reminiscence we shall cheer

Enamoured by your honesty, a soul worn clear

Stay heartfelt honey, may the tides keep you near.

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Sixthborn of the Sixthborne

Rise from the grave

The spider threads around your neck

Hold you up for the night

They won’t notice that you’re a wreck

.

Feet dragged on the sand

The windy desert air so unforgiving

Carry the lambs to slaughter

With the heavy hearts you’re leading

.

But don’t let the bandages

Unravel from their sightless minds

They won’t like what they’ll see

And you don’t know what you’ll find

.

When you reach the beyond

The place where Death goes to die

And any life in the threshold

Is reduced to a disambiguated sigh

.

Dare you trespass the end?

Let the truth crush every passing breath?

Dare you be the willing Judas

For the ones whose salvations are spent?

.

So return from where you belong

Beneath the ancient dunes that hide no man

Whilst the souls you damned shriek

To sate your starvation, till next kingdom come.

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Postcards From Crystal River

you are the open window in an elsewhere, rustic, countryside summer

where drowsy bumblebees rest contentedly by the pollen-speckled glass

and little emerald drops of shy foliage sometimes dare to cautiously peek in

before the shooing breeze languidly billows them all out to heaven knows where

.

luminous sunshine glows ardent on tan skins and pales against cotton curtains

a curious puppy might loll its head lazily about and bark at scampering squirrels

and the sticky rose vanilla soda gives way to the thawing rivulets down my blouse

perhaps i’ll rise from my wicker chair and have a nap soon—or perhaps just five more minutes.

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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

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Beyond The Pale

Pull the trigger tight and watch our distances explode
If Texas is forever, where’s your home sweet home?
If anything should happen to me, I want you to know
I’ve loved you since ever since then…

~*~

Up there, where the sky looks a little less blue and a little more like the love we used to have

That’s where I’ll be headed now darling, that’s where all the stars go to die

Five thousand years and a minute wasn’t enough to make you stay for the night, so I’ve

Set my sights for the southern lights, but won’t you at least say goodbye?

.

The cold in my hands are getting worse with each passing sunset I wasted on your breath

The diurnal dreams and burning cash, the handmade kisses stippling your shirt

Expect me to return before the moon forgets I wasn’t there, and my shadow falls into debt

With the tear stains on your bedroom wall, did you really think it wouldn’t hurt?

.

Like cigarettes and patron saints, I’ll always come back to haunt the corners of your lungs

Like aching sighs and floral lace, your promises falling on another eternity

Like half-opened novels abandoned facedown on the coffee table, like the last calls left unsung

Like the bullet on my throat you placed as you knew you couldn’t leave me

.

Down here, where the ground looks softer, but only before the final crash starts to strike

Where will you be headed now darling, did you ever ask the stars to lie?

Five million years and minute more, and I would have made you stay for the rest of your life

So set your mind, take the northern lights, I won’t be there to say goodbye.

~*~

Don’t dance around me, I know what it means
No communication cannot be received
But I’m such a sucker for the rain…

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In Moratorium


[ ∅ . ]

“ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ sᴛᴀʀғᴀʟʟ
ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇᴀʀs ᴀɢᴀɪɴ
ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏʟᴅ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀsᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ
ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ
ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ sᴛᴀɪɴ
ᴡᴇʟʟ, ɪ’ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ…”


[ I . ]

You are arcane desire, and influential mania, and the sweetly vulgar taste of expired novocaine hanging above my quivering tongue like eden’s forbidden fruit. You are the contagious, infected swelling beneath the base of my throat that I madly vain to scratch away with both trembling hands, that I constantly want to carve out with a blunt scalpel in a resolute fit of psychosis. You are the deliberate misspelling of a foreign name that sounds frustratingly familiar, but only ever-so vaguely. Not close to a centimetre, teasingly grazing tiptoed silver slippers and half-buried memories. But not quite there yet.

ARE YOU LISTENING?


[ I I . ]

The resonating scream beneath my temples is starting to taper off into a sound akin to the mewling of a crippled fox; gunpowder and bullet hole smouldering in one leg, a rather patient hunter quietly praying by its burrow, steady fingers clasped tightly to the trigger as it sets up the final triumph with a whispered amen. It might just be from the severe blood loss, but my darling hunter, your gentle trilling call sounds almost alluringly enticing to me now. Me, a clever, cunning fox. You, a foolish, bumbling hunter. And yet you always seem to victoriously capture your kill in the end. Am I your final trophy head to be displayed in your cabin with the grandest fanfare, or shall my carcass simply be ferociously gutted and the scrapped remains fed to your rabid, starving dogs?

WHICH ONE SHALL IT BE?


[ I I I . ]

You are convoluted ecstasy and LSD and heroin in its rawest form, a most potent kind of prescription drug that instantly presses through my arm like hot steel and directly flows into my veins—though the hypodermic needle is missing and the vigil candle has completely melted away into stained tears hours, perhaps even weeks ago. But it is incredibly easy to lose track time with you, is it not? Every inch of the rampant hallucinogens traces highways back and forth on my scarred flesh and all over the wrinkles and grey matter of my deliquescent brain, smoothening out track marks and neurons alike as it gradually transforms me into an obedient porcelain mannequin. Just for you, I’ll forget to exhale, so let your guilt swirl through my charred lungs for all it’s worth, and I won’t suffocate. I promise.

DO YOU?


[ I V . ]

There is a new emotion blustering within me as you speak; something that feels like crudely sewing obscure adjectives on the underside of my clavicle, something that I don’t think anyone else with four chambers in their heart is supposed to ever feel; lest one of it inevitably clogs up and withers into paralysis. It renders every paranoid afterthought blindly unresponsive to the rest of my starving body, and sleeps right next to the nerve that could send me straight to comatose if pressed the wrong way. It takes the tiny spots from below your right cheek and collides it together into an explosive myriad constellation, an overwhelming universe that barely begins to abstract the way your unfathomable soul works. It is you: ad infinitum, deathless, enraptured. And me stumblingly trapped in the middle of it all, mere insensible creature hysterically perplexed by your stark impossibility. Dare I ask…dare I ask you why…why this is and should never be? And if I do—god help me if I do—

WOULD IT EVEN MATTER TO HAVE EXISTED AT ALL?


[ Π. ]

“ᴡʜᴀᴛ’s ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀsᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ sᴀʏ?
ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪғ ɪ sᴛᴀʏ
sᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ
sᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏᴏᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ
ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ? ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ?
ᴄᴀɴ ᴡᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ
ᴡᴇ’ʟʟ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ᴄᴏʟʟɪᴅᴇ…”


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