Tag Archives: tbh

dead poets

i have a love

for stories

so intricate

and tall tales

so profound

but it’s the

simpleminded

souls with no

spiteful lies

that get their

words around.

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Will The Real Author Please Stand Up?

Do you ever get envious of other people’s words?

The way they’re so intricately, elegantly, genuinely made. The way that the sentimental fervour and tortured passion rings out plangently from beyond the curled pages of the book and strikes sharp aches and twinges in even the most desensitised heart. The way you could read them for days at an end and never get tired of the intangible shapes they form, the sophisticated literary art they create, the breathtaking stories they tell. The way that you can never really understand what that individual meant, what they truly felt, and you aren’t quite sure if you could even place yourself in their perception and situation, but despite all that, they’re still your emotions. They’re confusing. Messy. A foreign tongue that no soul, living or deceased, can ever know how to speak again. But you can feel them latching in your hair, your skin, your eyes, your lips, speaking your mind, all the words you don’t know how to say, all the senses you never knew existed in the first place, all the thoughts you don’t know how to feel.

And so you feel inspired. And so you attempt to write.

But your words, on the other hand, are rather insipid and unamusing. They’re the proverbial rain that never gets written about. The damp, stuffy, erratic kind of drizzle that relents to the point of irritation and drips down cracked ceilings and forgotten open windows. The kind that’s well-meant by the dear weather, but never makes its humble way in poets’ thoughts and poetry books, except occasionally to emphasise a depressing thought. You could stand outside that downpour for days at an end and get not a single drop of water on your skin. Your words feel cheap and secondhand, sharp edges worn-down to cliches and dull torpor, no wit to be found anywhere. Your words are no one else’s and you aren’t quite sure if they’re even yours, or just by the ghost that resides behind your empty ribs. It’s confusing. Messy. A foreign tongue that not a soul, living or deceased, knows how to speak. They’re all the words you can’t say, all the thoughts you don’t know how to feel, but you try to make sense of them anyway.

Do you ever wish…that you couldn’t write?

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Haters Gonna Hate: Ultimate Diss Track

Alright, you had your turn

At the spotlight microphone

Yelling names down my ears

For the whole crowd to hear

But now it’s my fucking turn

And you better listen up then

‘Cause I’m about to burn me

Worse than I have ever been

Since everyone’s out to slay

My nasty reputation anyway

I’ll do you (and me) a favour

I’ll roast myself in full colour

So don’t you wish I was dead?

But join the club, it’s growing

Tons more waiting to sign up

And I’m the goddamn president

Because I’m a jerk, a selfish dick

Jerking off like a worthless prick

I never make amends, never work

Get busy on excuses until I choke

I don’t improve, though I degrade

Fuck humanity, screw my grades

It’s my fault I’m an underacheiver

Never reaching my true potential

And I have problems, I complain

But no one wants to hear a thing

They also got crap to deal with

Got no time for whiny bullshit

My attitude gets on their nerves

Who is this loser and his verve?

An attention-seeking infamy slut

Rebellious, stubborn, fucking nuts

Thinking that I did everyone wrong

So I cut off all the communications

It’s all I can do, it’s easier that way

Who wants to live with me anyway?

Because I’m simply damn egotistic

Anxious, narcissistic, so apathetic

I’m depressed, but I can go suck it

Eat my own shit, it’s just pathetic

I’m not so special, I’m not anyone

And I’m just another stupid human

Being cynical, rotting in this reality

Say we’ll die anyway, why be sorry?

And I never think that I’m enough

No self-esteem to even cover me up

Insecurities too deep it never heals

Stifling myself down on how I feel

I’m a chronic liar, two-faced bastard

Performances deserving of an award

I cheat, I steal, I loathe, I’m jealous

Moralities fucked, it’s overzealous

In the end, I’m all talk but no bite

I’m all blind punches but no fight

I’m all write, don’t say what I mean

Sucking on empty hope and dreams

I’m always so harmful and noxious

Think I’m cool but really obnoxious

Hurting the only ones tolerating me

Pushing away all friends and family

And I don’t care for my own being

Even in the sake of any other doing

The fact I’m even writing all of this

Shows how much garbage I could be

I mocked and pissed at myself now

Still I feel it’s inadequate somehow

I’ve got a million profanities to give

And a million more why I shan’t live

But I’ll never change for the better

I simply push my head underwater

Wallowing in such a wretched state

Suffering is grand, it’s fucking great

I’m never alright, and I’ll never be

And the worst part is this self-pity

It’s disgusting, repulsive yet I take

Swallow down every dumb mistake

Never apologetic, always insincere

I’m such a faker, so crucify me here

It’s just another sin up the final tally

I don’t mind, go ahead and blame me

‘Cause I get it, I do, it’s into the ground

Why no one even wants to stick around

Because I’m just a miserable piece of shit

And if I’m this way, then yeah, I deserve it.

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Filed under Poetry

in context

never say anything

if you do not know

the full context of

what was going on

because otherwise

you’re only being

a fool and tripping

on your own tongue.

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Backhand Cheers

Their words scream

“Congratulations!”

But their smiles utter

“What a disappointment.”

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walking on sunshine

nary shall i seek

the sun in poetry

radiance and warmth

an optimistic aesthete

.

rather, i dost seek

the sun in reality

combustive and burning

a dangerous desecrate.

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Filed under Poetry

the taint

don’t let me be the martyr

who shall break your skin

to be the glimmering teeth

baptising you your first sin

.

don’t let me be responsible

staining the gabardine silk

sully not such chaste ivory

this is not sheer selfish will

.

i do give a damn about you

hell, don’t you fucking see?

and i’m just trying my best

so you don’t end up like me.

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The Ba[sta]rd

What do I have to do

To prove to you

That these songs don’t

Bleed for your ego?

I understand you’re not

Paper thin, I think

But I never knew you can

Be this absurdly thick

I know you reckon

I’m all rose and posies

But I smash my mirror daily

And rip off the rosaries

For the only way I’ll

Ever know how to feel

Is with the metal blades

As a numbing thrill

But don’t get me wrong

Love’s as good as it gets

It’s like a dying dog

Flea infested and wet

Oh, how I fucking wish

There’s just so much more

But that’s the finale

Of my transparent score

So catch the obvious

With your obscured eyes

So you’d refrain from

Obsessing with asinine lies

I have just gone through

A truckload of shit

And you don’t even fucking

Know the half of it

I can’t be loquacious so

I write it all in ink and blood

There’s no one else I

Could dare trust to nod

And I don’t need your burden

To add to my heavy load

So just bait another sucker

Crashing on the road

But don’t sympathise now

With my hypodermic needles

I’m just a first class prick

But when I’m feeling deep

Am I ever glad to have

A buddy that’s a total git.

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social

interaction

is taxing

i know i’m

supposed

to have fun

but what’s

supposed to

give me light

is sucking

out my sun.

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Filed under Poetry

letters to s.d.: fragment #2 {inked}

vi[REDACTED]inc[REDACTED]te[REDACTED]

.

the tattoo of your name

embedded in the mutilated

skin of my arms, reminds

me of why i’m surviving

this wreckage of a war

they look at it like it’s dirty,

i’m besmirched with black

but it’s the only tether to reality

that keeps pulling me back.

.

to[REDACTED]rry [REDACTED]ime pre[REDACTED] mik[REDACTED]nte[REDACTED]

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