Outbalanced

What are they saying, I’m not raw?
What the fuck you take me for?
All the sudden you hear what
I’ve said a hundred ways before?
I been pushed, I been trapped
Drug myself through hell and back…

~*~

The euphony and the madness

Calling out to the sane and the sadness

Conjuring up emotions I forgot I had

And when I have it, I have it bad

.

I don’t want to be down at all

But I don’t think can’t hear you now

As it doesn’t take much to drag me under

I want to be far away from forever

.

I just can’t figure it out, figure it out

I’m counting on things added by a zero

Pretending there’s a cause to be had

Pretending like I’ll be the next fucking hero

.

Because here I was, thinking I’m okay

But when the worst gets bad, I don’t want to stay

Here I am still hoping not to run out of space

But the chase got me tripping all in the wrong place

.

I’ll compose myself when time stops again

Black out all the memories with bitter novocaine

I’ll try to stay sober as I numb out the relapse

Keep the light off my eyes until this overthinking stops.

~*~

Sometimes, sometimes you don’t say goodbye once
You say goodbye over and over and over again
Over and over and over again…

Advertisements

Aka no Sakura

A suicide note written in cherry-cola shade lipstick

Disconnected telephone still ringing in the backdoor

Sore bones cracking under the weight of the bed frame

An empty prescription bottle gathering flies on the floor

Faded picture frame with red-eyes and faces scratched out

Tawny overcoat hung down the tattered couch one last time

Blanched body on black tiles, twisted in grotesque abstraction

Is it too late to apologise for never surviving but always dying?

Of Despair and Last Resorts

Desperation, desperation, desperation.

A mother so desperate to pay back the unwanted debts she’s accumulated under a harrowing time pressure of “sooner than later”, that she’s tearfully begging her long-deceased husband’s portrait for help and verbally contemplating suicide in front of her children, splashed with witty acerbic remarks to conceal her true intentions.

“If I don’t go home tomorrow, just watch the news and you know what you’ll see.”

A woman so desperate to make amends with her best friend that she personally owes, not just money, but also so much of herself for, and attempting to save face from any further unnecessary embarrassment, that she takes out her unbridled anger on everyone else, including her family, herself, and even her very own infant son.

“You’re all fucking useless. Why don’t you just die if you can’t do anything to help?”

A person desperate for redemption, desperate for change, so fucking desperate to take away any further troubles and problems that they might cause to their family; so much so that they’re prepared to do anything to achieve such a goal, even if it means abandoning their education and their future ambitions just to find an easier route to support them. Or perhaps—a darker and easier solution that’s earnestly contemplated—just to completely remove themselves out of the equation.

“There’s less money to be spent and wasted if I’m not here, right?”

Desperation, it clings to the bruised necks of the needless like curved brier thorns, entangling itself inside fragile throats and lodging itself deeper and deeper with the softest cough, choking the sparest breath out of hope until all that’s left is a heartless fear—a fear of everything and nothing all at once, a fear for everyone else and yourself, a fear of the future, the present, and the past—until all that’s left is irrationality and logical foolishness; until all that’s left is reckless death wish.

Yet, even then, desperation still feeds ravenously. And it never starves.

Fill In The Blanks

Regrets infesting before the final choice is made

A look-back taken the wrong way, as resolution fades

Can’t catch a break when I’m running with fractured legs

So I sit in the sheer silence of my own fucking mess

I want to take back something that hasn’t even been done

Exchange clear rationality just for the sake of jumping the gun

When the count’s already over and the ticking clock has won

It leaves only myself wondering until I’m left with none.

Of Feminine Odds And Endings

Spent ten days counting dandelions in a field

Like time was miserable and needed camera thrills

Painting a scene that wasn’t quite as wayward

As a night filled with stars in some cheap postcard

Distance is effervescent when I close my eyes

Lips pulled into an idyllic smile, trying to play nice

.

Waking up when the collapse is felt in earthquake faults

Visions stifled with thorazine, my art is charcoal cold

I’ll dance like it’s the apocalypse, I’ll sing loud like I mean it

Spin a tornado with the air I have left in my lungs sweet

I’m just a mess trapped in sunflower swirls and pastel dreams

Tinderbox between my teeth, aldehyde ignites my screams

.

I don’t mind that it’s mindless, I don’t make any sense

The windows show my only escape from pyrexia bleakness

I’ll cast a spell and make the golden in the sunshine die

Plucked violets intricately lacing, like delinquent butterflies

Traipse by coastlines ’til the shore is nowhere to be found

Staring at the hypnotic horizon until I cannot feel the ground

.

Heavy, heavy, heavy dahlias; transient mysteries I’ll never solve

The morning’s further past over, and the mourning’s getting old

I’m a melancholy melody, I’m a symptom of severing snowdrops

A feverish heart cured by faux rhinestones from a psychic’s shop

Contrary crazy, I only miss the rain when the weather’s at it’s best

Drown in myself, I’ll keep looking for an exit out of this baby’s breath.

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.

I Will Be Nothing (Without Your Love)

~*~

Breathing In My Words

Let me make your lungs burn

With the fire and the smoke

Feel the wrath of the temperature

Bring your heart back up to choke

Let me make your lungs burn

With the cigarettes and the dirt

Taste the wrath of this vindication

Bring your heart back up to hurt.

~*~

The Shadow Of Who I Was

It doesn’t make sense to haunt me

If all the ghosts are still sleeping

But I’ll be your rough concrete grave

Don’t close your eyes while I’m dreaming

Your disappearing act is getting subtle

Static song whispering to the radio

I don’t ever want to see your head ache

But I have to dissect it to see what you know.

~*~

Time, Like The Lines Are Red In Between

I’ll sink into the tangled web you weave

Find safety in the voice that sinks ships

Drowning’s a mercy than to watch you leave

And arrogance will make me cold and sick

I will be nothing without the skyless sea

But you’re next to nothing to ever envy me

And come this morning when I take the abyss

The tidal waves behind you won’t ever miss.

~*~

a self-portrait painted on anaheim landscapes

I did what I do best, forgot myself
Got overdressed like everybody else
A glance and a half smile
Black heels on the white tile
It took seven years for your path to realign…

~*~

i am made of torn skin

and overplayed stereo songs

and a million miles to cali

and washed-out daydream colours

i’m lost; some would say gone

and my stares are silent dynamite

i remember what i throw away

again my tongue detonates

and i’m searching for meaning

in a world that’s as meaningless

as a crude april first joke

and not in the least bit funny

but i’ll keep on looking anyway

and maybe it will make sense

in some parallel universe someday

where time doesn’t wear my skin

and songs never sound the same

and cali’s just a tiptoe and half away

and the daydream never fades.

~*~

Gone, doesn’t it feel good to be invisible?
Gone, just like the way I used to be
Gone, have I been fading away?
Yeah, I’m so gone, gone…

eau de cologne

swathes of perfume—

a familiar scent in the storm

bewildered by wonders

and shadows on the dictaphone

renegade tears; again

they surround charlatan hearts

in sounds of scissor envy

the wineglass is fermented sour…

time vanishes into aether.

the threadbare tale of old lovers

bloom on daybreak scorch

akin to an elaborate kaleidoscope

incinerating infinite galaxies.

your anarchy is no longer ghastly

and the oasis of the cityscape

blinks out in a mosaic, one by one

as i quell my febrile miasma

and twist sullen on my empty bed

your form outline is long gone—

but your lingering fragrance remains.

aesthetic

I see meaning where you don’t, where you don’t
I see waves of pastel orange and yellow paintings fire
I see futures that you won’t, that you won’t
I see futures where our nights are lost to condensation…

~*~

i see a future

in your smile

and a dimple

with a bruise

eyes that light

a jar of fireflies

and could fill up

an ocean trench

that button nose

twitching quaint

and slightly red

from bad pollen

ears perk, listen

for symphonies

and hear out the

sourest of notes

lips and tongue

in soft half moon

which you never

wane to a full one

as eyebrows that

raise in quick wit

miss the eyelash

that grants a wish

with zinnia tresses

in springtime wind

you use it to hide the

blush in your cheeks

i see grey and colour

blacks and whites in

that simple mind that

wanders far too much

it’s too bad you don’t see

the same way i do, and you

only see time ticking seconds

away from your quiet beauty.

~*~

Running through the cold air
Searching for a meaning
Passed out on the concrete
Dizzy from the spinning
Wake up to the feeling
That everybody’s leaving…