Tag Archives: train of thoughts

A Trainwreck of Thoughts

My heart is pounding fast, I’m out of gas, it never lasts

Serotonin, oxytocin, we’re built for sins and late for mass

Chemical, mechanical faces, daily races underwater

Looking for god in cabarets and never searching for answers

Am I your jester? Will I entertain her? Is the sense in making sense

For a semblance of humanity, insanity, neuropathy

Endowed in chronic migraines and under castigated lies?

Uncertainties play like a chess piece, checkmate, check please

Asking the waiter for the receipt, but he never comes

It’s sympathetic…pathetic, isn’t it?

The empathy that curls and coils and churns in my esophagus

Screaming until my lungs are bruised, traumatic pain, dramatic recluse

In the throes of a black rose, petals falling in a final calling

For the tears in tantrum storming, where are we now?

Somehow…it never changes, the change rattling ranges in our pockets

Never mean a thing, but there’s a hole in your pants

And your nickels are clattering in your mind; never mind

The respect, don’t expect, crestfallen and swollen eyes, do it thrice

Without fail, without avail, without much ado about the gale

They say love was just a tale written in thorns and photographs,

Polaroids and tongues so crass, washing away the blood on our hands

Burying the body but never saying sorry, you’ll never bury the past!

Here I stand. My heart is pounding fast, I’m out of spare tires and gas

Waiting for the moment to last, waiting for the end to finish the past

Will this sempiternity ever end? Will the medication finally bend?

Will this recluse find the chaos amid the calm, will I take on such a task?

My heart slows down, and I’m waiting silently yet patiently for you to ask,

But you never show your cards, and again…I relapse.

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A Note To Send In The Sun

It’s hard to be living, you gotta play the cards you were given
You think it’s simple but it goddamn isn’t
It’s tougher now than breaking out of Shawshank prison
And as you’re hitting your prime
People say you been committing a crime
But I won’t quit till I’m home
I’ll chip the limestone a bit at a time…

~*~

I’m rigid and frigid, yet bespoke

Speaking of sharp tongues that limit

Themselves to asking “what is it?”

As the audience applauds the cynics

And sits in mentalities of finick

Spin it, another losing tale to uphold

The tongues of silver and hearts of gold

If my failed memory was distantly bold

Then why is the thought of you so cold?

Sold, the paintings I hid in the cellar

Buying my heart for a million dollars

Clashing in shades of blue and white collars

Eyes that could never appreciate the colours

Call her, the girl with piercings in her skin

And her tattoos that tally her sin from within

To keep the demons from gladly releasing medicine

She was injecting just so she could stay breathing

Was she so wrong to want to continue living?

And if living is a vice, then I don’t have to play nice

And keep on hanging to surprise just so I could receive their lies

For this world is not a masterpiece of peace waiting patiently on the shelf

Rather, it’s an empty canvas depicting ruin for the better

An accurate self-portrait of oneself.

~*~

Shit in storage, living from a suitcase
Thinking “this is how a silver spoon tastes?”
Cause you can make a dream possible
But it’ll never be easy, no matter what you chase…

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