Tag Archives: superficial

How Heartless

I don’t know how to love

Without looking superficial

I feel in the wrong places

And no one’s ever too special

I don’t know how to love

In the way that they call “real”

I set my soul in right times

And no one would ever be mine.

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Verse End Chorus

“But it’s gone too far, your butane mouth will spit me into flames
Sorry ’bout it, I can’t help it, I’m an anarchist in love…”

~*~

just how much do

i admire every

verse and chorus?

darling, it’s lethal

like the catalyst

to a stained disease

and intruders

leaving footsteps

all over my red arteries

distractions of

the remedy dangling

behind the knives

at the very edge

of all my fingertips

dislocating broken bones

hurting me madly

yet i suffer jubilantly

if only for sedition.

and i do not lust

for tactless fantasies

it’s just far too artificial

and segmented

and drawling cliché

for me to take in earnest;

the scissors bite

deeper within my veins

and my blood is far

more crimson than pale

for such contrivance.

this adoration of mine

is unconditional

and a cold withdrawal

and it is sempiternal

as their mercurial eyes

taint my clouds

and crash them again,

affecting a hazier

fog in my ponderings,

painting my day with gold,

disturbing my nights

with daydreams.

though; i do not seek

superficiality, nor

the obscenity, nor

an intravenous

palette of emotions

to fulfill my sorrows,

contradict confrontations,

and substitute for

my own subconscious.

i’m too wasted to

be sober on the lights

of a reluctant soul

i’m intoxicated again…

i stray from orbital passion

yet i am drawn into

each unspoken reverie

and my limerence

is quite liquid and lithe

as it paints the lettered canvas

for their blank horizon.

and dear, i can simply hope

to sell all of my stars to

remain in the cheap seats

wishing that someday,

your songs will stretch

past the universe of infinity

and reach my eyes—

and i’m fervently faithful that

in another eternal dawn,

i shall gather enough sturdy rungs

in my concatenated ladder

to finally reach my melancholy

darling blue moon.

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metal & skin (x.)

hide, hide, hide it all

stow your lighter in your wallet

hide hide, hide it all

keep your razors in your pocket

hide, hide, hide it all

from superficial judgmental eyes

hide, hide, hide it all

cover your scars and play fucking nice.

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Débutantes & Surgery

Next is a trip to the, the ladies’ room in vain
And I bet you just can’t keep up with
With fashionistas
And tonight, tonight, you are, you are
A whispering campaign
I bet to them your name is cheap
I bet to them you look like sh—

~*~

Bleeding blackest dirt from my severed red veins

Bruises and burst capillaries, tainted bodily stains

Cold cuts butchered from me, trace my anatomy

Contusion and confusion, broken lines in Sharpie

Slice open my skin, expose the deformities within

Serrated scalpels, sewn stitches, so I’d look prim

Gory for glory, inhaling gasses of coldest ember

God’s own image is imperfect, return to sender

Impetuous, callous, welcome to indestructible humanity

Illicit expenditures, the surgical anaesthetic of society

Layered patchwork, labour procedure of natural beauty

Lustrous shade of formaldehyde and botulinum toxicity

Reconstructing, repairing, reinserting rose-tinted lenses

Ramshackle Frankenstein, short repose for all expenses

Plastic barbie heads swathed thick with poison makeup

Plinths of muscle and excess fat filled up to the very cup

Emergency room is losing fast all of its opened vacancies

Exalting for the wicked egos and more expensive vagaries

Manufactured miracles of their moonlighted personalities

Malocclusion of smiles, mad misanthropes for the masses

A sad reality where faux immaculateness is sold by the millions

Abnormal normalcy, appearances incite riots in formal pavilions

Doctors no longer to heal, yet to defy design of decent humanity

Degrade further, a round of applause for our superficial insipidity.

~*~

I’m the new cancer, never looked better
You can’t stand it, because you say so
Under your breath, you’re reading lips
“When did he get so confident?”
Haven’t you heard that I’m the new cancer
Never looked better and, you can’t stand it…

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Apple Pie

Little honey, aren’t you just the sweetest piece of apple pie?

Grinning on the checkered picnic basket, round cheeks tinged scarlet red inside

But sadly, that tantalising outside appearance of yours is but a superficial lie

Because a single bite of your luscious sugar is enough to poison my veins and die.

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