Tag Archives: tongue

Colourblind Memory

And when I see you
I really see you upside-down
But my brain knows better
It picks you up and turns you around
Turns you around, turns you around
If you feel discouraged
That there’s a lack of color here…

~*~

It was an easy kind of self-destruction; the one I never had to beg for.

After a few nights of staying awake and listening to cheaply-constructed songs on the static radio, I was already haunted. Copper chain links that stabbed at the fictional horizon and left unstitched scars on the exposed wind. Shy vespertine flowers that bloomed in the most coruscant spectrums, but only when no weeping eye was there to witness their exquisite grandeur and compose concerto symphonies about it. An infinite, arrogant, wakeless kind of blue that rivaled every transatlantic and pacific direction that I chased; but, unlike the oceans of this planet so drenched and cold and jaded to the bone, no one is ever able to cross it, and no one ever will.

And violet. A damnable shade, akin to roses-not-reds and forget-me-nots, that violet. A bleeding, dirty kind of violet that left filthy, undecipherable Roschach stains everywhere. Splattering the bruises of my halted tongue, shading the asphyxiation of my untouched lips, violently overtaking the rock-steady sorry secret that was divulged and diluted all too late. It painted a tragedy that only the most damaged and paranoid artists could understand, and rending shreds of the purest agony down my colliding ribs that not even the most genius maestros and starving dilettantes could begin to dissect; for it was a foreign anatomy. A different unknown. A beyond the beyond. It was brutally twisted inside my veins and gauchely discarded somewhere in between sense and sanctuary, photographed and arrested in another postcard vintage lie. I could write graphite letters at the back all I want, but I’ll never swim away from the indigo waves in front. It was our holiday memory, drowning me again and again and again.

Absolutely useless. It couldn’t aid my breathing. It couldn’t save my sleeping. It was a disease that was highly susceptible only to my atrophied words and comatosed syllogisms—the same unfortunate ones that are now leaving my chafed fingers but never my wornout mind, like you, like you, like you.

Unrelenting. Unsuspending. Unending.

All my colours were inverted. And no one can turn it back the right way.

If there even was one.

~*~

Please don’t worry, lover
It’s really bursting at the seams
For absorbing everything
The spectrum’s A to Z
This is fact, not fiction
For the first time in years…

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Arsonist

It feels like there’s a raging fire within my chest—

And I want it to burn everything inside and out

.

My lungs, my heart, my throat; I want it to replace my breathing,

Escape the confines of my ribcage and devour my skin whole

.

Swallow my reckless body as if I was nothing, and spit it out in faded ashes

And finally burn out like a last word at the tip of my nonexistent tongue.

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Eight-Ball/Outlook

I’ve eaten bricks for breakfast

And my tongue is set on fire

All my nerves have lost their nerve

And my brain’s a walking satire

.

As the people are counted off

Like the fingers I have trembling

Attend the wake of my mild mistakes

And rude intermittent whispering

.

So I wait, and I breathe, and I sit steady

As I wait for the signal to turn ready

So I wait, and I write, and I try to find

When my heart’s made up its mind.

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Dry Spell

So it’s over? I didn’t realise
It’s so much colder, but it was no surprise
Did you ever get to know me?
‘Cause it has never been so plain to see
And when you say you won’t forget me
Well I can tell you that’s untrue…

~*~

Laughter, that’s all it was, plain and simple, but to me it was a taste of a thousand pink cloud summers spinning overhead the aegan firmament, all at once. Those sunshine glances melting dulcet like sugar cubes in freshly-brewed coffee and lingering softly in dusky southern winds, trailing a fragrant aroma of a verdant fruit orchard freshly blossoming in spring afternoons. Captivated ears perked up as clumsy legs tangled together in a giggling mess of auburn hair and sapphire glances, and the most quiescent sliver of blushing stardust glimmered above it all in enamoured amusement; our faraway symphonic orchestra humming about a foggy eventide streetlight dalliance, concealed under burning shadows on a shivering autumn gloom. Laughter, that’s all it was, elegant and intricate, tasting of an effulgent fireworks display of blueberry ice cream and bubblegum-stained candy floss and red velvet chocolate, all detonating and delicately fizzling out like an exquisite festival in my minty tongue. But the ephemeral seasons have come and gone like drizzling October rain, and that was my final winter’s chill. I don’t want to feel warm ever again.

~*~

And I’ve worn out all the reasons
To keep on knocking at your door
Could be the changing of the seasons
But I don’t love you anymore…

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anatomical dissection: mouth

i bite my cheek

until it bleeds

and taste the failure

that impedes

i’ll save the best

the best for last

and drag my tongue

back to the past

i hold, and hold

like i won’t let go

but little did i know

i fell a long time ago.

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Monsoon Wish

Just two days after the first of June
A pine with arms brushing off the dew
Unlike a sky copious with death
Precipitation of heart and head
Should wash the rest of her youth away…

~*~

Hey rain, ain’t you simply so sweet?

I’ve got a dollar on my heart and a nickel on my teeth

You’re unpredictable, I’m unreliable

Weave me a liquid chandelier from northern downfalls

I’ve got an amethyst dream memory

Such limitations are for not my pseudonymous reveries

And I watch them on my windowsill

Rewinding June’s finesse, as my lukewarm coffee spills

.

Hey rain, ain’t you simply so sweet?

I’ve got a song on my heart and ten albums on my teeth

Dedicated to you, an ode for evergreen

As each quavering soul begins to feel your sapphire skin

My bedroom is cold, a frostbite cinema

Forte crescendo of wooden floorboards, a classic wisteria

My breaths are cadenced, silence unsung

Hey rain, won’t you spare me a little sugar for my tongue?

~*~

Our days spent crossed out of Sunday school
July has always been shy of June
Some monsoon, monsoon, monsoon
Come heavy of a golden hue
My monsoon monsoon, monsoon…

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No Offence

your snide smiles

desecrating my spine

making my insides

burn and curl in time

deny me the arrogance

satisfaction’s engrandeur

make my tongue sorry

it ever spoke sad words.

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here for nothing

Watching as the fire starts
I could be here all night
Never really wanted much
Only ever asked for flight
It could be you…

~*~

i have

no desire

to read

into your

messy mind

as if there

was anything

i would find

taking turns

at insults

like our

hurtful words

don’t mean

a thing

like it was

just another

bee sting

i’ll be okay

i have gravity

to keep my

heart right

where it

should be

but your ribs

are broken

and ransacked

yet don’t you

even see?

i have no

intention to

watch as you

trip again over

your own

callous tongue

but i have

to admit, it’s

actually

kind of fun.

~*~

And I could be fire
And I could be rain
And I could be caught in
Everything that’s in between…

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i know something you don’t know

Hold on, don’t look back
You know we’re better, we’re better than that
Lost and thrown away
You know we’re better, we’re better than that
We are the strays…

~*~

lips twisted in

orange sour and

bitter secrets,

indulging unseemly

stories under the

brink of clearwater stars

sweet as frosting and

dripping in sap as

caramel words,

these strange stories

no one would

dare to listen to.

the moon might not

come out tonight,

but tongues open fire

and in that

naked horizon

of calming darkness—

everything else

comes to light.

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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…

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