Tag Archives: stains

Laundry Detergent

keep that dirty soul for yourself

and wear it like sunday church clothes

no one else wants to wash it anyway

.

there are heavy bloodstains, i guess

but it shouldn’t really be that hard to remove

with all that chlorine in your mouth

.

the forecast calls for rain today, but

perhaps the weatherman is lying to you

just like everyone else that’s not you

.

so spin yourself in a cycle one more time

and when you get sick and dizzy from it all

open the windows and hang yourself out to dry.

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Oh, Ain’t That Clever? (The Hundred Dollar Profanity)

Mirror, mirror on the wall
Who’s the ugliest of them all?
Severed, crawling like spiders
Injecting poison, now kill the bile spewing
The walking selfish living dead
I turn to rust and you play
In all the filth that you’ve created…

~*~

Sweet milk will still taste spoiled

If the mouth is too putrid and rotten

And barbaric words just don’t define

Someone’s being a “good” person

.

Underhanded plagues dyed the rain

With condescension and redder stains

With a wish that the cleave cuts deep

And that leather flesh will never heal

.

As judging eyes feel the need to gloat

Like skies on fire, the ashy vanity floats

Prison’s good but the abuse feels numb

All hands on them until they succumb

.

It’s fine to feel fine, the need to feel needy

And pride has never been so carelessly greedy

But freedom will still taste like putrid decay

When the body’s too bitter to feel the right way.

~*~

And when your dreams have come to end
How will you buy your happiness?
And when your self is all you have left
With what will you fill your emptiness?
You are the cause of man’s dissolving evolution
Is my heart completely useless?

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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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Do You Want It All?

Cause I’m tired and I’m restless
And I’m pretty sure I met my match
And I lie here defenceless
I’m the Sunday hunters weekend war
I’ve been here, I’ve been here before…

~*~

My whole throat is wrapped all around the bedroom

And they’re singing “you’re gonna get what’s coming to you”

But I dance along to the beat of summer’s monsoons

Spinning hurricanes like weekends behind your eyes so blue

Come see me in the days that you always counted down

Starving the thoughts in your head without a simpler warning

To taste the pillows like it’s mint chocolates in a hotel bed

So when you drink your coffee, it will sting like a sour morning

But you won’t haunt me all the way into the suffocating dirt

Wash those stains off your collar and lead the colours to the earth

Take a long walk in sunset park, and I will make you believe

You will get what’s coming to you, and it’s more than what you need.

~*~

This is a warning, never gonna get
Never gonna get me out this town
Let’s start the mourning, never gonna see
Never gonna see another day…

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concerns

i hope i’m not getting blood

on the sheets i barely sleep in

i don’t want my family to worry

about how to wash away the stains

without using strong colour-fading chlorine.

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Polaris

When my eyes’ve grown tired
Cause no night can’t survive with just a flashlight of hope
When all I said was bitter
And words won’t bring her back for more…

~*~

The stains on my fingertips are subtly disorienting

As I stumble on my throat, refusing to breathe in

You’re moving too fast for me to ever catch up

And all we can do is laugh quietly before we sin

I tell every aching bone to whisper about sad news

The shadows and the mist bring me closer to you

They say that the blood you expelled is recluse

But I’m terrified that my evergreen will turn to blue

And it wasn’t my fault that all the skeletons in my closet

Came bursting out, when I could no longer contain it

Understand that my veranda is always welcome and open

When the decisions overwhelm, and I’ll wait until then

Strumming the starrified strings on my ten-string cello

Until my fingers pluck constellations of the final crescendo

And when you find your way to that everlasting enigma

Look up and listen close to the sound of my north star fantasia.

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slipping back

Here’s your new blood
Transfusion took us all night
Tell us that you’re all right, no it’s not love
Though feels like fire inside of your veins

Burning right beneath the wrist
Begging for a razor’s kiss
To free it from your skin…

~*~

please don’t make me do it

i only wish to remain untainted

until the end of the year

my scars still hurt from time to time

and i know i could never wash them away

with the strongest dose of sorry

.

please don’t make me do it

i’ve been scot-free for almost a month

i want badly to believe i can make it through

but i close my eyes and see flashes

of a gleam and spurting blood

painting my bedroom walls with delirious laughter

.

please don’t make me do it

i promised them my life that i wouldn’t

but it’s so difficult to grasp onto fragile straws

and it’s so easy to lie about these malignant stains

splotching my pleading skin with colours

chromaticity of the worst kind

.

please don’t make me do it

the voices are starting anarchy in my head

and it’s giving me a painful headache

i don’t know which one will drive me insane first

and i don’t want to go back anymore

but i’m so tempted to give in—it’s all so easy

make it stop. make it stop. make it stop…

~*~

Lift the veil, it’s not medicine
And my heart fails, time and time again…

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Fauxtographic Memory

I keep losing sleep in beds still made from soaking sheets
And I’m still haunted by the ghosts of people still breathing
I already hate the words, they’re not a thing we even share
Stop looking for a metaphor, it isn’t there…

~*~

Photographs in negative slate

Cigarette ash on his fingertips

A lock of hair on the pillowcase

Faint redolence of perfume sweet

Keys hanging on floral keychains

Abandoned stilettos by the doors

Pastel sticky notes on beige wall

Milk spoiling in the refrigerator

Dusty corner in solemn shadows

Familiar strain of a phonograph

Soft touch but a distant stranger

Faltering echoes of ghostly laugh

Red lipstick stains on sheets of silk

And aftershaves of musk and cedar

An empty closet, dirty bathroom sink

His eulogy written in crumpled paper.

~*~

Fauxtographic memory
A mind that’s still developing
I turn my back on all I see
Cause everything feels make believe
You tried to stay, I made you leave
And made the world give up on me
I can’t accept reality…

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lipstick stains and gasoline brains

Close your eyes
Picture you and I
Selling daylight
For gasoline…

~*~

lipstick stains

and beyond

at the backseat

and all over my brain

i missed the tears

under the covers

disappearing

like little favours

leave me alone

i will close that track

cross the threshold

and mind the gap

i vied for this

this vile acridity

this insane stupidity

and i believe in

the reverse of sense

hoping tragedies

like a sceptical god

a symphony like

sweet medicines to

kick in when the

lights rage in blood

forget about me now

my floral imprints

blossoming on skin

pretty in red and pink

are nothing but

butterfly memories

fleeting and fugacious

as cold as your kiss

hug that jacket tighter

and close both eyes

the walk is shorter

than this long drive

but if your lips bruise

or your fingers tire

from singing back

dear, i’ll douse the fire

my gasoline’s empty

and i’m almost out

this is all falling apart

so hold your mouth

and when everything

fades out slowly to

music and black

as you forget to listen

you will find that i

wiped away all of the

evidence, and the

lipstick stains are missing.

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stains

inkstains

of the words

that never

made sense

but i write it

down anyway

.

tearstains

from the music

i never believed

in, but felt with

every heartstring

that snapped

.

bloodstains

from the razors

i grasped with

conviction, but

left smudges of

trembling fingers

.

stains

from different stories;

chapters of the tales i’ll

never confess out loud

dark taint in pages pure

damaged paper that has

been through a lot, from

a damaged person that has

been through a lot more.

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