Tag Archives: taunt

Transmogrify

They spit me out right through the teeth
I can’t pretend, ash in the wind
Won’t blow again, it was a breeze for you
These hurricanes inside of my brain
Let it rain, made it look easy
Can’t look away, you love the pain…

~*~

I’m sick of feeling happy like this.

Like a hollow happy, all fractured sticks and carved limestone facades and a mimicked genuine smile that does absolutely nothing to quell the bitter, devoid, pathetically-quivering feeling viscously building up in my throat. The desperate, acidic kind, the awful one I just want to violently throw back up but can’t. Fake-real happy.

Fuck that, why couldn’t I just be normal happy?

This dangerous selfishness, it’s like a howling werewolf without a full moon, and I’ll always fall immeasurably short of what I truly feel. I only provoke the worst kind of boiling rage frothing against my curled lips, a bloodstained rabid displeasure—but nothing more—at the fact that I’m happy for you, but not really happy to be so. Empty fucking threats. Instantly dying out short and flat. The synthetic skyline glimmers back to me in a derisive snarl; taunting,

What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?

I want it to tear apart my flimsy skin and reveal the perverse goddamned feral beast hibernating inside, I want my soggy eyes to glint a jaundiced yellow and my grotesquely-disfigured mind to lower its inhibitions and reset to a primal scream, my rewired guts are churning corrosively as they crash away at my torso and starve for some more guts, and my grin at this point only resembles a sinister bared sneer, all vicious teeth and reckless abuse.

If I can’t have it, then everyone else will.

I just finally want to shed off that repugnant, powerless, shaky lie I call my own farcical humanity and then completely let go. Of you. Of everything else. Of everyone else. Including myself. Especially myself.

Maybe then, I’ll truly be happy. Please. God, please.

~*~

I paid the cost, yeah, it’s all my fault
That I ain’t giving up my soul
It’s all my fault, watching me bleed
You cut me down on my knees
No matter what you believe
I think we both can agree
That you can’t blame it on me…

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Filed under Prose

third time’s the charm (when you’re lying to yourself)

finished finished finished

did my unfulfilling day’s work

afternoon reduced to chains and shackles

dragged like fingernails into the dirt

sweating sweating sweating

baseball caps melting in diligence

and left to suffer insufferably

under the severe heat and silence

aching aching aching

temples snap like rubber bands

not in the mood for smiling

i wish my headache would understand

.

static static static

music reduced to scatters

dragging deluded spirits further

into abyssal underwater

pacing pacing pacing

the zebra crossing inch by inch

hoping that screeching tires

would run me over like roadkill

waiting waiting waiting

for the tears that never come

frustrated and sedated

feeling betrayed by the sun

.

tired tired tired

to the very frayed nerves

a day’s worth ticking down the clock

each hour a penitence served

flinching flinching flinching

at the blood that whispers taunts

set me free and let me be

let sharp edges be your miscreant

broken broken broken

by the stress that’s making out

with barbarous depression

and violent-red lies heading south

stop it stop it stop it

but i’m too numb to even protest

i’ll just fall back into a devoid oblivion

and let my weakness take care of the rest.

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Filed under Poetry

another complaint from the universe

“Tell me what you want
Until it hurts.”

~*~

hold back my frail hands for me

when they are shaking too badly

my eyes are clouded by your sirens

coming back to hang me in silence

.

i’m way in over my head, but

i couldn’t deny your faux needles

pinning me to irrational devils

.

you whispered of a curse that never

made it past my crumbling curved spine

.

and the last breaths i heard taunted it wasn’t mine.

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Filed under Poetry

Friendly Reminders

You are an irrational human being

Spurned by such hopeful ideologies

Flourishing from blotted optimism

And your own journalistic severities

You’re a complex mystery machine

With your cogs, bolts, nuts, or gears

Rigged into a smoother symphony

Of grinding, blood, veins, pain, tears

But tantrums tend to threaten you

Spilling over the cusp of controlling

My pillow’s too soft! I have no clue!

Such petty churlishness encoding

Two can play that game, I’ll indulge

I will let you throw bowls and plates

Shatter them, shards a nice mosaic

Until you can take no more of hate

Oh sweetheart, you’re a pretty mess

Wipe the ink from your eyes, okay?

You don’t need me to be your best

Your paper skin will start to decay

If you get broken by mere ant bites

How can you stand up to the giants?

If you cower sullen, lest not to fight

Dare you thirst to be one sycophant?

Kindly refrain backhanded assaults

And spitting venoms in my winery

I have my sour patch and my faults

Blame not the drink I taste, honestly

You must forgive my own invocation

Of my outward intrusion of illusions

I’ll bend and say I learned my lesson

And suppress this smile of ascension

Am I ruffling your feathers, my dove?

Don’t let this old friend be rude, hell

Irrationalities aside, you’ll worry not

For we gotta have our own fun as well.

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Filed under Poetry

Childish Playthings

You never seem to learn, do you, careless child?

Suffice it to say that you’ve been thoroughly wild

You’ve dashed around madly while running your mouth

Starting such false rumours and making everyone shout

.

You love to hurt with words, and this twisted game you played

To stab a knife down everyone’s bleeding shoulder blades

Black and white, you love to play this human-sized game of chess

And in the end, knock the hapless pawns over in a state of mess

.

You cheat, you lie, you double-cross, you easily create prevarications

A serpent’s forked tongue dripping venomous equivocations

Madness master, wicked witch, the power of vicious spells you can conjure

With a simple jinx and a single word, you manage to instantly injure

.

Taunt and dangle strings of what should never be behind our backs

Dancing with fire, a born arsonist and an egotistic pyromaniac

You love to see innocent people go up in bitter grey smoke

Stealing what little we love have because you yourself lost all hope

.

You’ll never be able to learn, will you, charlatan child?

You’ll still manipulate and hate, leaving us victims defiled

But someday you’ll make a mistake, and end up stabbing yourself in the back

And maybe, just maybe, if you ever recover child, you’ll finally grow up.

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Filed under Poetry