Tag Archives: wait

metal & skin (xi.)

waiting for the right

time to come

isn’t really helping

all it does

is further intensify

the agony

that you’re prolonging.

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sentenced

time moves

too  s l o w

when you’re

waiting for

death row.

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X Marks on the Calendar

“So I’ll toast every beat of my heart like a miracle.”

~*~

Writing scars down your stomach

The acidity ate its way to your lungs

And your decaying and putrid heart

Until you throw it back up, it stung

.

You just have a few weeks to live

Several days to breathe before you die

Which is the most god could give

Calendar holidays in red to bleed a sky

.

Another x mark in your checklist

Another x in your pallid internal system

X’s scribbled on your friends’ eyes

Avoiding your gaze to avoid goodbyes

.

Stuck in synthetic hospital wards

Until the taste is stuck in your tongue

The chlorine and antiseptic pills

Hopscotch games over the IV line one

.

World’s destiny was revolved for your leave

And you swallowed the death cure a bit late

So now you have just a few weeks left to live

But somehow that seems far too long a wait.

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spoke[n.]

victims

of a witch

liplocked

with a

slow jinx

like lemonade

hearts

on a nickel

store’s stand

it’s too hot.

.

don’t laugh

at how absurd

it all feels

as i hanged,

faltering by the

edge, fulcrum

taking hold

of every sense

of each word

from a fall

kill the sunlight.

.

the apartment

doors are

closing, but

i’ll hold

the knob ajar

and cover

the peephole

against intruding

eyes and

hushed tones

i’ll warmly wait for soon.

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Sleep: Letting Go Of Your Dreams

“There are these terrors, and it’s like, it feels like as if somebody is gripping my…are these terrors, and it’s like, it feels like as if somebody is gripping my throat…not like tremors, worse than tremors, there are these terrors…at night, there are…not like tremors, these are worse than tremors, there are these terrors, and it’s like, it feels like as if somebody was gripping my throat and squeezing…and like as if somebody was grip—”

~*~

Falling asleep…

A faint dream

In an elevator scene

An exploration

A decrepit room

And finally,

A music box song

That seeped

Onto reality…

Turning into

Static and wails;

Hell’s personal melody

Roaring madly

Past my ears

And the nightmare began.

Jolted into limbo

The familiar room

Materialising in front

Of my tired eyes,

But what the hell…?

I cannot sleep,

I cannot wake up,

And I can’t move...

I can’t move.

God help me,

I fucking cannot move—!

An invisible force

Pressing down on me,

Sent crawling chills

Down my skin

With every attempt

Of futile movement,

Dinning noise

Painfully screeching

Against my ears,

A beast has

Taken control of me

And I don’t know

What to do anymore.

Heartbeat panicking

And mind in a frenzy,

I tried to be calm,

To be stupidly rational

With instructions

That came out

Of a 911 operator’s

Mollifying mouth…

Okay, think this out!

You can do this.

Wiggle your toes.

A hallux, a minimus,

Just try it, okay?

There, good!

It’s working now…

Just try to move,

An arm, a leg,

A muscle, anything

At all, and then

Wait for it to spread

Across your body…

Shit.

Shit shit shit.

It doesn’t work.

I’m stuck.

I cannot break away

From the demon

That pins me

Within its claws

Rendering me

Immobile,

And screams

Triumphantly loud

In banshee roars

Deafening me

Of common sense.

I’m. Fucking. Trapped.

So what now?

Helpless as I’m

Paralysed, frozen

In a foetal position

Half conscious,

Half unconscious

Lying in my bed,

Unable to move

Or shout for help,

I give up

I’m reduced to

Waiting for it

To simply end;

Waiting for the

Monster to be sick

Of such games,

Waiting for reality

To take me back

And wake me up,

Waiting anxiously

For that final

Sweet release…

But will it even come?

~*~

“…Sometimes I see flames. And sometimes I see people that I love dying and…it’s always…and I can’t…I can’t ever wake up.”

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Gold Memory Impression

And life is a joke, at least I can love you
Naked and tattooed, counting the stars and scars
And if the pain is a sound, let’s slow it down
Desperate times and desperate measures
I come so close, my hopes are severed by the downside
A million waves in the ocean crash at once
To make you smile…

~*~

A million gold chain links keep me

From reaching your constellations

Idled in a twenty-four hour carpark

5 AM’s ticking away consternation

Chasing the moon whilst in flames

Trace your caved-in lungs and eyes

A stalactite drips your frozen name

Aroma of an elixir that I so despise

Dear, you’re intoxicating as stardust

You’re my personal brand of alcohol

I’m branded by seventeen tally marks

Scratching poems on limestone walls

Unopened pack of A-Lucky Cigarettes

Dragging sanity in soft pewter whorls

Acrid tastes of initial cheaper regrets

As midnight ashes begin softly to fall

I wash the warm blood off my hands

And reach for you, my own lucky star

These rust chains will dissolute soon

Yet leave jagged edges of ruby scars

Still, no matter, that don’t matter now

Your luminance is worth all the pains

Honey, the only thing that I care about

Are your lips leaving a permanent stain.

~*~

Now, I only pray when it all goes down
I’ll be surrounded by the ones I’ve loved
And cared about, and then burn it down
Your serotonin’s gone, kerosene’s gone
The sunset is gone, so hold on…

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I can’t buy you a black heart, you already have mine

I will buy you black dahlias for when you’ll soon return

When the jacks top the pile and all the judges adjourn

I’ll play you a tune, strum empty space in my theremin

You’ll be blushing carnation posies, a flushed melanin

.

I will buy you black kittens for when you can concede

When the auctioneers play their life, into the final bids

I’ll slay you a djinn, I’ll make xanthene stars disappear

You’ll be drowning in silver, and drinking day-old beer

.

I will buy you black shoes for when you jig and show up

When the most futile of molasses spill over their cusps

I’ll relay a broken melody, perhaps a lost Liberace score

You’ll be avoiding tears on the checkered linoleum floor

.

I will buy you black scarves, keep your arterial blood warm

When the conspiracies falter and gypsies lose their charm

I’ll pray you a stale Angelus, and wait for the Lord to rapture

You’ll be in an open field, awaiting your last inevitable capture

.

I will buy you black snow for when you can finally find your way back home

When I accept the fact that you’re quiescent, resting under loam and stones

I’ll drink my hot eggnog, open presents of shadows, and I’ll solemnly remember

You’ll be cold and white as winter night, like my soul is in this solitary December.

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Idle Imagination

No light at the end to think

Of this infinite tunnel further

A dribbling pen with dry ink

A piece of paper underwater

.

A cage surrounds my mind

Nowhere to stretch my legs

Metal bars restrain behind

No place for creative to extend

.

A simmered cold cup of coffee

Crumpled papers been tossed

Frustration builds inside thee

Scribbled thoughts been crossed

.

I reciprocate and designate

But puzzle pieces don’t fit the slate

I try to accelerate and elevate

But end up with a brick wall state

.

Bland colours mixing stark greys

Fantasy worlds that actively decay

Black horrors and murky dark days

No stars left now for my soul to say

.

And idle mind hanging, a stalling stale thought

Pondering flowers that will never fully blossom

Quite ironic, that my halted ideas stuck in a rut

Hurts my head more than an active imagination.

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