Tag Archives: talk

The Buildup Before The Downfall

Don’t you feel bad for choosing the option

That left me feeling good only out in the open

I’d bare my marred soul and read the signs

But you won’t talk back, our glances won’t align

I swear, I’m damned, do you regret me now?

Loverboy don’t play a fun game without any toys

I’d call your bluff and I’ll cash in all my friends

And still I’m short-selling, I couldn’t see this end

My hands will wander, and my eyes will travel

But you’re closer to heaven than I am to hell

Don’t pass my lips like obscenities, this is the first

You said you were an ocean, but why did I die of thirst?

I look over the chip over my shoulder to greet unrest

The choice I took was never mine, and you were my best

With the lies that surround me now, you tore me down

To build me back up into something completely different of your own.

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Double Dares, No Take-Backs

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be your clapping beat, now won’t you sing along

The air between our shaky hands won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Smile, but the gloom doesn’t dissipate to the moon

You’re my childish reverie, I’m your little red balloon

Play 21 questions until the question marks are tired

Of answering the same old things in our curious minds

.

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the song stuck in your head, now won’t you sing along

The wind beneath our heaving chest won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Cry, but heaven doesn’t hear what you wanna say

The angels left you powerless, they don’t exist for today

Laugh until the laughter begins to sound suspicious

No one could be that happy, but we’re just both auspicious

.

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the lyrics you never wrote down, now won’t you sing along

The zephyr under our interlocked eyes won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Talk, but the stars only hear static words and white noise

Expectations take over emotions, you just wanna have a voice

Count sheep until we run out of sandy footprints to break

I’ll go around, wrapped in your bedpost, dreaming of mistakes

.

Keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the instrument in your hands, now won’t you sing along

The breeze by our swaying hips won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin gets it all wrong

.

Kiss, but hell is so faraway from everything else

Slowing down time as gravity makes contact with nonsense

Dance until we’re out of breath, until we don’t care

You’re my spin the bottle, but babe I’m your truth or dare

.

So keep me in your sights, and double double dare me

I’ll be the only favourite song you know, now won’t you sing along

The tempest brewing between our tense lips won’t be won’t be

Won’t be blowing until our skin feels warm and our hearts get it all wrong.

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Chase Atlantic

For you, I chased down atlantic until it was drained and empty, consuming every last drop, and still, you were thirsty.

Xans, Oxy, gram, adderall, molly, vicodin, ketamine, codeine, amphetamine, heroin, every medication legal and illegal you selfishly overdosed on like it’s the sweetest candy, drugs and money fucking everything up, riding the waves, breathing in the ozone layer and craving the vaporous atmosphere, until all you could hear are birds singing at midnight and all your blank glazed eyes could see where pink shadows coalescing in the basement and the sound of your own synesthetic undersea voice, sewn up into crude stitches before it shatters soundlessly against the restless pastel ghosts; and you find out you were uncomfortably lying on your back in the bedroom floor all along, staring at the unlit ceiling dripping what you thought were your own tears but turned out to be rainwater, dial tone screeching your garbled songs, trying to call nobody at half past four in the morning, worn-down carpet igniting the smoke alarms with your interminable vices. I could only wish to hell that I was there to put it out.

There was a certain elegant delicacy in your tactlessly constructed words, soft beatnik aspersion and aggressive indie slurs romancing and entrancing my chilled spine, humming saxophone amid the alluring amalgamation of incoherent voices intertwining together into a strange, tangible, panicking tranquil. It was an art form in itself, inimitable, one of a kind, scattered accentuation your personal intricate signature. Every careless lilt about the dangerous pseudonymous girls you slept with last night, Angie, Cassie, Roxy, and the pill-popping pharmacists you’ll hold up with a gun as soon as the sun hits tomorrow. All these unsettling courtesies set in three parts of pastel grey and explicit roses, the dalliance and the nostalgia of everything, you were speaking in a foreign language only the truly sick in the head could properly understand, and the way you talked about all the mental pressure and self-esteem and choking anxiety so goddamn beguilingly, the way you talked about addiction as if you weren’t an addiction in itself, the way you just fucking aren’t, it got me overdosing on the panoply panache and sovereign shit on your bedside, but I was so into it.

How many times have you made my pulse beat when it was no longer mine? Every single afternoon, I wake up with a stabbing jolt like a guillotine’s rope pulled tight against my throat, gasping and desiring desperately for more, more of your prevarications. It was a talk show tactic, and you were the host telling me to talk slow and tell no lies, and I was your prize trophy, spilling my secrets and picking my battles cautiously, even though I knew that you were probably lying to me all along. The world was on your shoulders, angels hissing temptations under your skin, and we danced to the beat of your laughter and talked endless miles of film spiels about friends and no friends, gravity and good vibes, church walls and dancing in the dark with the devil, indiscretions and junkie stories high on adrenaline and dopamine, driving too fast and run over by the cops and swimming and thrashing in paradise until we’re so much higher than before, and everything was rhapsodic…until you hit the trigger and got me begging on my bleeding knees again. I’m scratching my nails, shivering madly, abusing my liver, and tearing the veins off my dead-ass heart as you killed my sanity, and baby I was only 23.

I’m obsessive. You said hold your breath, you’ll save me from the fading injections and we’ll run away right here to the underside of the world, and I won’t need to miss you and your anchor tattoo. And fuck it, but I believed all your twisted promises so fervently. I didn’t expect to fall instantaneous victim for such a scrupulous stratagem, this alternative relativity of drugs and parties not my accustomed niche, fucking up this whole thing. I was married to the screaming voices that serenade me everyday and haunt me every night, and I was theirs to render completely deaf into freedom; until you came out of nowhere and divorced me from the nightmares, and you incarcerated me—you made me even worse. You’re a psychopathic fringe wearing a smile on your face and holding a knife in your hand, you’re becoming a work of art. You don’t look too sane when you act like that, and babe, you won’t live too long with a mind like that. I was always fastidious about the taste of serotonin that I place against my lips, but even though it’s fire I’m kissing now, I’ve already been burnt, I fucking have. And I love counting the cigarette stains in my fragile marred skin, sepia-shaded nicotine tattooed permanently between my fingertips, branding me with your whispered name. My parents say I’m crazy, but I only wanna be buried six feet under your bed, ready to meddle about and smoke the cancerous stars away with you anytime. They say be rational about these things, but I stopped being reasonable the moment I listened to your drugstore symphonies and drowned in your cheap perfume. This chemical destruction is beautiful. I’ll keep it up, and I’ll keep riding the waves, crashing into you once more. And why stop at all? Okay is all I know right now. Mama I’m sorry, but reality’s boring.

For you, I’ll chase down atlantic until I’m drained and empty, consuming every last drop, and still, I’ll be thirsty for your eyes.

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Blah Blah Blah

You can try but I will not obey, I will not obey
You’re not a God, I’m not your slave
And you can try but there’s no controlling me
I’ve had enough, the shit you preach
You talk too much, swallow your teeth…

~*~

Bite your tongue and clench your teeth

Hold your breath and chew your cheek

Shut your mouth and bleed out your lips

Taste the blood foaming, ain’t it sweet?

.

When the lies aren’t enough to hold you back

And the conversations form into a spiteful god

They’re all talk talk talk, but never say a word

The gossip so lurid, crashing down your worlds

.

And would they believe you if it was the truth?

They’ll just call you a preacher and a hypocrite

And would they believe you if you told no evil?

Litanies affixed to your names like it’s bullshit

.

‘Cause there’s no place for an honest man in hell

And there’s no place for sinners wishing you well

All that’s clean is replaced by regurgitation and bile

And people whispering rumours, stuck here a while

.

So just burn your tongue and swallow your teeth

Choke down your breath and rip off your cheeks

Shut your fucking mouth and bleed out your lips

To taste the gory lies foaming, oh, ain’t it so sweet?

~*~

With so much hate, you drown in shame
The angels cry but you won’t change
You built your world on fear and pain
The snakes will surely sing your name…

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somniloquy

pastel laughter, petals of umber

lip-gloss stains and sweet december

.

brick wall steps, stepping stones

withering glares, i contemplate alone

.

seven mysteries i don’t dare speak

magicians fleet in magic tricks

.

intervals lead to cyanide infinity

trapped in a loop of tangible vanity

.

tasting alcohol and numbing smiles

maybe i’ll stay here for a while

.

midnight calm and oceans deep

i’ll keep my thoughts in the morning

and talk in my sleep.

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Small Talk

“If I die now, you’ll be fine, wouldn’t you?” Came the morbid question, startlingly from out of nowhere, the tone rather earnest and solemn, as the rest of her contradictory body moved to pack up her bright clothes and stunning makeup in preparation for the party she was going to attend in that very evening; a glamorous night out in the city hotel for endless hours of revelry and colourful strobe lights and dancing with her inebriated friends.

“Not if I die first.” Was the equally-morbid devil-may-care reply, swift and acerbic, passed off in a jovial manner, accompanied by an amused grin and a playful hand slap, as he continued to stare jadedly at the glaring screen of his computer, thinking about the bottles of whiskey and cola that he secretly stashed away at the very back of the fridge, to be consumed later on at midnight in his bedroom with some crisps; a little party of his own.

They both smiled at each other quietly and let the conversation slide, and they went about with their business. They knew neither one was joking. And they knew they couldn’t do anything about it. So they just pretended to laugh.

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Travel Talk

You won’t believe what I tell you
White coats and clever minds will choose
You get a lot from this, loose tongue and arrogance
It’s not appropriate, don’t think that this is it…

~*~

Let’s cease with the

Uncomfortable pleasantries

As if we didn’t share

Flaxen stars that lit up our

Deathless horizons

.

Past the valleys of hell

And in glimpses that never align

Lies wasted letters and unspoken words

Spilling and cascading in shades of

Scarlet and sapphire once more

.

To halt this. So what do you say

Let’s kick the empty bucket

Over such a perplexing nonchalance

And go the distance over the miles

Where our intersections are amass with traffic.

~*~

It’s hard to compromise
When I see through your eyes
It’s just a common view
I guess it’s lost on you
Now I can talk, no one gets off
I know how you like to…

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rollercoaster

the ride was too turbulent

and we both tumbled off

tripped against our tongues

in adrenaline and acerbic scoffs

we fell when it got too steep

and refused to climb the blame

why don’t we try to fix our scrapes

instead of just picking at them?

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behind bars

there’s no one

left to talk to

but the voices

within my head

i only wish that

they could save

me but they all

wanted me dead

there’s no one left

to talk to but the

madman living in

my prison brain

i’ll just let it do the

negotiations as the

metal shivs away

all the tortured pain.

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Say

Hey, how are you, by the way?

Okay, no more lies this time.

Say you’re not okay.

Say that nothing is fine.

Say everything’s going wrong.

Say your depression is returning.

Say you’re falling apart.

Say you messed up yet again.

Say all the problems you need to relay.

Say people are screwing you over.

Say you keep relapsing again and again.

Say you’re sorry for being a complete mess.

Say you don’t care if you’re being desperate.

Say that life doesn’t want you anymore.

Say you’re fucking giving up.

Say that you actually want to kill yourself again.

Say that this attempt is for good this time.

Say please, please, please you need help.

S a y  i t . . .

Say something…anything…just goddamn say something…

Say anything but—

Yeah, I’m good. I’m great. Never been better.

Fuck.

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