Tag Archives: thoughts

6:00 AM.

Faint incandescence of blue

Against the blurry windows

The sunrise junes yet accrue

On the startled horizon glow

Watercolour brushes of blue

Up starry ceilings they show

Sweet breeze of hope, it flew

Through the trees, they blow.

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happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts…

i also want

to write about

positive things

and happy thoughts

and dainty memories

full of floral words

and eloquent hearts

dripping like pastel

raindrops off my mouth,

but how can one do so

if all he has is a black pen

piercing the chambers of

his black-bled heart?

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4 a.m. depression and jealous pasts dripping off the ceiling

thrumming

like fucking echoes

of a firefly miracle

in my coronary doldrum

beating, b-r-o-k-e-n

tongue hanging off

like the way the stars

hold on for gravity but

fall against pierced glass

of darkness anyways

i’m relapsing, r e  c   e    d     i      n        g

the past is killing me again

i say i’m alright

but shit, what if i lied

to myself as well?

the cringes that burrowed

their way into my gelid skin

and gutted my stomach

until i end up heaving in

blood and bile and scissor blades

and choking on perfume

as sweet as promises undone…

fuck you. fuck YOU

please leave me alone, walk

away from my nightmares and

leave my sanity on the doormat

i don’t want to taste your pain

and leave drunk calls on

your answering machine again.

please stop me from you

everything is hurting like hell

on a four a.m. depression

and i’m just trying to fucking

take back sunday and my sleep

from you, so spare me the

profanities and give it back

please, won’t you?

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from a writer who can’t write, to a friend who doesn’t care

Sometimes I cry so hard from pleading
So sick and tired of all the needless beating
But baby when they knock you down
And out is where you ought to stay…

~*~

i’m never enough.

every time i build

my invincible walls

back up, you shatter

it with a crashing

sledgehammer

and a glint of your

candy fucking teeth

you’re so goddamn eloquent

an angel with a seraphim

choir voice, heavenly

and i’m just a shitty

raconteur, a useless dry

quill pretending to be

a writer, a croaking bullfrog,

a clean cut nothing

vying to be the something

you would notice and

admire back, and maybe

even e n v y . . .

but no, don’t read

the lines in the wrong

perspective, oh no

i adore you so much

darling, that it turns

my heart into chiseled

stone and devours my

lusted guts like acid

in my abandoned brain

for your creative spell

is my personal dante’s hell.

but this jealousy

hurts so fucking good

that i find ways to

compare, contrast

and inflict pain on myself

emotionally, mentally

p h y s i c a l l y

desiring the day you

finally notice my scars

and compliment them

and i’ll feel fucking

revered and glorified

by a cheap side remark

by a person who couldn’t care

to a thing with ugly taint.

am i really so insecure

as to resort to low blows

and pathetic attention whoring

to feel a little better

about my blithe existence?

F U C K. Y E S.

because no matter how

many beautiful words

i bleed in silver and gold

from my pen and

into the blank canvas,

prose, poetry, stories, lies—

i’m just never enough

to make myself worthy

for myself…

no, i’m never fucking enough

for you.

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Ring the Bell Referee, and Let the Fight Begin

Such a shame you had to go and run your mouth
Your mouth is what you make it but at least I’ve got real friends—
Can you hear me now?! Now that I’m a big star!
Fuck you and your no love for yourself! (It don’t mean shit…)

~*~

Life is a kickass enemy, and the rage is a motivation

Let the judges slit my throat over my unorthodox declaration

It’s hard punches and cold lunches packed with action

Move closer to me now, and step into my own creations

Say my sullied name again, I’m stronger than before

I left my shoes under the bridge so when I fly, I feel lighter

Honestly it’s not that easy to have half of my fun

But this crimson ink bleeds so I won’t have to use a gun

My fingers they splinter from frenetic movements

If I’m still alive right now, I’m only breathing in segments

Ideas run wild and I stumble, I gotta pace to keep up

And I have to learn more about gravity to get the last laugh

Hear the sound of my voice among a stentorian million

Fuck the stars and dollar bills that sing against my emotion

I’ll whisper in silver undertones and break my voice on needles

Roll the dice but you can’t solve all my cryptic riddles

Don’t take my jealous life of matches and propane lights

Kill it fast, don’t let it die, I’m on a hurricane tonight

Spit and masticate the contract written on skin and paper

Throw the shreds in the seafloor bed under the polluted waters

But oh my god, I’ve been looking in the wrong direction

Running away in pilchard pastels over twisting intersections

This turnpike velocity won’t be my ultimate weakness

I’ll try not to splinter my soul, I’ll try never to second guess

So stop staring at me now, your glare is nitrogen seething

I promise I’ll be even later for our preliminary meeting

I’ll praise the chicken scratches I’m proud to call my home

Cursed again, this foolish confidence just won’t leave me alone

I’m exhausted, I’m burnt-out, and everything quavers spasmodically

But shit I’ll use my own words, I’m not gonna borrow from the dictionary

I know this adrenaline high will wear out soon, I’ll collapse from temporary exhilaration

But goddamnit I’ll drag my broken legs to hell if I have to, and I’ll abuse this rare motivation.

~*~

And I’ve got so much to give
But I would kill just to feel less invisible!
And you’ve got so much to learn about gravity
So live it up baby don’t look down
(Live it up baby, don’t look down…)

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A Box of Sharp Things

Please do not

Notice the fresh

Scars on my skin

It’s nothing—

My clumsy hands

Just slipped on a

Box of sharp things

Yet again…

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friction

a shoulder grazed

untouching friction

a backward glance

a wordless communication

silent discourses gone

it never meant so much

more to a simple stranger

who needed some complication.

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Six: metal & skin (v.)

sharp,

slash,

slit,

sanguis,

splash,

s[k]in.

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metal & skin (iv.)

i remember

memories

more vividly

when i’m

in pain,

so was it

my sin not

to forget, if

i want the

memories

to remain?

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