Tag Archives: waste

laggard

uselessness

is not a virtue

nor a talent,

it’s simply just

an honest waste

of one’s time

.

it consumes

the mind and

salivates, just to

watch the drywall

rot and infest

spreading cracks

.

no longer within

the wall, but already

inside one’s furious

thoughts, seeking

a weaker barrier to

fully break down

.

until it reaches

a deep trench, where

all ends meet, and

the gap widens

just enough to drive

one quite insane.

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Blasé

“you’re too young

to be jaded by love.”

said she, twisting

imaginary wedding rings

on a broken finger

.

mustering an odd smile

weak and halfhearted

as the glittery ache behind

my eyes betrayed just

barely a glimpse of

.

the devotion i’m still

wasting myself on

of inked skin and shared

laughter, but only the

demons in my head hear

.

if only she knew. if only

you knew. if only i didn’t

know any better—then

perhaps i wouldn’t be old

enough to even start caring.

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30 – alma mater

this day is turning into ten years

and as i mill around from class to class,

all i ever excel at is the art of invisibility

and how to walk out of my own body

carrying a weight around, everywhere i go

and nodding until my head feels like

it’s no longer mine to move at will

but i endure, and keep my gaze down,

and stay out of trouble; out of sight,

out of mind, out of time—and wasting

away for four more dreadful years,

until ten years turn into a day.

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L.D.N.S.F.G.T.

Mothers cast tears on both sides of the aisle
Clear your throat and face the world
The verdict falls like bachelors for bad luck girls
Only breathing with the aid of denial…

~*~

Baby girl, I think that some vulgar words

Just aren’t meant for your pretty little ears

.

You can throw away all those dirty looks

Or drive yourself home drinking sweeter tears

.

Don’t threaten me with a good damn time

Like the way your skirt curls when you stand in line

.

And the way life turns pure with the touch of a finger

That middle spot is so pristine, now ain’t it better?

.

Baby girl, just don’t strain yourself thinking

When the world’s too dumb to accept your sinking

.

So don’t waste that pretty little breath on your scream

Save it for when you’ve got something realer than a dream.

~*~

Case open, case shut
But you could pay to close it like a casket
Baby boy can’t lift his headache head
Isn’t it tragic?

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You’re All Phases And Dark Sides Like The Moon, But You’re Not As Bright (I Would Turn This Into An Extended Play But My Band Hates Me, I Have Mediocre Musical Talent, And No Record Label To Beg)



Phase One: I Don’t Know About You But I’m Ready To Move To San Diego(‘s Disneyland© Theme Park and Resort)

[EXTRACT: WE DO IT IN THE DARK WITH SMILES ON OUR FACES
WE’RE DROPPED AND WELL-CONCEALED IN SECRET PLACES
W E  D O N ‘ T  F I G H T  F A I R]

To all the divorcees in the dancefloor

Singing songs for poor dumped hearts

Won’t you come and take a million pictures

Of my latest 100 billboard-hit chart?

I’m not famous, but I’m on your magazine

Load up the ammunition baby, take it in

The articles say that I’ll save your life

But all I’ll do is steal your brain-bored wife

So I don’t give a shit about your ideal weekends

But buy my merch, I’ll be your best friend

And don’t pretend you’ll just forget about me

When I’m bitching about how everything’s a travesty…



Phase Two: She’s Got A 10 PM Audition Starring At The Back of A Costco Store

[EXTRACT: I’LL KEEP YOU WARM AND WON’T ASK WHERE YOU’VE BEEN
WITH YOUR BACKLESS BACK DRESS SOAKED TO THE SKIN
W H E N  A L L ‘ S  S A I D  A N D  D O N E  T H E Y ‘ R E  S C R A M B L I N G]

West coast smokers choking to death

And a trashy nosebleed is good for the health

Kiss it hard in the back alley like a desperate man

Blow out your sixteen candles with a gun

(and paint the town an ugly shade of party-red)

.

You’re all grown up and ready to waste a week

Looking for a dive bar to drown shots cheap

But the boys never liked you, Mr. Barman

Now won’t you sleep this out again with no one?

(the insults are only as bad as good guys get)

.

I swear I won’t swear, my mouth is clean

I go to church on Sundays and I’m never mean

I swear I won’t swear, I know that it’s all true

Your secrets are all worthless but at least I’ve got you—

(completely wrapped around my finger)



Phase Three: Warm Sympathy Is Just Cold Sarcasm For Wimps

[EXTRACT: I KNOW YOU’VE HEARD ALL THIS BEFORE
LET’S HEAR IT FOR AMERICA’S SWEETHEARTS
I  M U S T  C O N F E S S ,  I ‘ M  I N  L O V E  W I T H  M Y  O W N  S I N S]

I don’t love you at all but I love your therapy

You talk like you’re going deaf, so won’t you lie to me?

.

If it’s not about comforting then I wouldn’t even care

You look even messier today, did you do something with your hair?

.

I said I’d write a million poems about you but I got carpal tunnel

Just like how you said you’d give me a taste of first-class hell

.

We both smiled like a girl’s best friends, only it’s all fake

And we didn’t believe we could mine such coal-black mistakes

.

I don’t love you at all but you scare the devil out of me

But I wouldn’t call you an angel, don’t you just love my honesty?



Phase Four: Children’s Nursery Rhymes Are Really Letting Themselves Go These Days

[EXTRACT: MY SONGS KNOW
WHAT YOU DID IN THE D A R K
S O  L I G H T  ‘ E M  U P]

I ‘ l l  S T U M P  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S T U M P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  w i t h  i d i o t ’ s  s y n c r a s i e s

I ’ l l  s T u M p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  S t U m P  y o u

I ’ m  a m a z i n g  i f  y o u ’ l l  a s k  m e  t o  b e

I ’ l l  s t u m p  y o u ,  u o y  p m u t s  l l ‘ I

M y  n a m e ’ s  n o t  P a t r i c k  b u t  b a b e ,  I ’ m  a  s t a r

B u t  i f  y o u  t h i n k  t h a t  t h i s  j o k e ’ s  g o i n g  t o o  f a r

T h e n  I ’ l l  d u m p  y o u ,  I ’ l l  D U M P  y o u .



Phase Five: If My Brain Could Actually Think For Itself, What Would It Say?

[EXTRACT: IF I COULD GET MY SHIT TOGETHER
I WANNA RUN AWAY AND NEVER SEE ANY OF YOU AGAIN
N E V E R  S E E  A N Y  O F  Y O U  A G A I N]

I’m

                    too

fucking

                             tired

           for

                                               all

       this

                                                                 bullshit.

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Hey World, Why Don’t You Spin A Little Faster For Me?

‘Cause he gets up in the morning
And he goes to work at nine
And he comes back home at five-thirty
Gets the same train every time
‘Cause his world is built around punctuality
It never fails…

~*~

I feel so fucking useless.

The world is running at a breakneck speed and everyone around me is already growing up and moving at a steady pace, getting jobs, meeting new people, going to college, telling wild (well, for me at least, but I’m sure it’s as normal an experience as any person gets) stories that still invariably shock the living breathing manchild in me, and basically acting like an adult, very well on their way to becoming a mature and a fine-class clockwork citizen of this society, and I’m still sitting here, practically catatonic and stuck at home, jadedly counting the crimson hairs on my head before I rip them all off out of sheer frustration, and then repeating the cycle for hours at a time, for days at a time, for weeks at…well, you get the idea.

Hell, all of my friends are doing something decent with their lives, some of whom I haven’t talked to in a rather lengthier amount of time due to their busier affairs, and all I’ve ever done is waste oxygen and continue bitching about my inane sadness like it’s such a fucking choice. Of course, people do tend to worry sometimes and ask way too many questions that I don’t have any answers to (in one situation, I found myself wracked with the conundrum of whether I should blatantly lie to my pressure-ridden grandmother or not), but really, it’s not their job to worry about me. It’s their job to worry about themselves and do good and be productive and get somewhere ahead in this stupid planet, and I’ll be there behind them every step of the way, cheering them on and assuring them and feeling proud for them and all that TED Talk crap, because it’s all I could do for now, and what they can’t ever do for me.

But sometimes, it also feels really lonely, and even lonelier when you know you couldn’t tell anyone about it, because it’s solely yours and no one else’s problem. Yes, I know, I know, I brought this solely upon myself, and I took the riskier choice when everyone pleaded for me to reconsider my decision and take the otherwise solution, and I didn’t even stop to set up any alternate plan-b’s or cheap setbacks to fall on, in the event that my original plan fails. Why? Simply because I wanted a fresh start for myself. Simply because I felt suffocated by this shrinking cul-de-sac of a place and wanted to get away from the same tiring things that I’ve been seeing for 18 years of my life ad nauseam. And simply because I want to force myself to actually believe in my capabilities, and fucking hope that for once in my life, I’ll be enough, maybe just enough, to make at least one implausible triviality into a reality.

Do I not want anyone to be disappointed in me? No. It doesn’t matter if anyone is anyway, I’m pretty much used to that already. I just don’t want to disappoint myself anymore, that’s all. I’ve always been falling behind my entire life, and I don’t think I could ever catch up.

I just wish time would go by just a little bit faster so I can finally stop holding my breath for nothing.

~*~

And he’s oh, so good, and he’s oh, so fine
And he’s oh, so healthy in his body and his mind
He’s a well respected man about town
Doing the best things so conservatively…

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Filed under Prose

Lost Paradise

In my young boyhood—should it thus be given
T’were folly still to hope for higher Heaven!
~Dreams; Edgar Allan Poe

~*~

A shot of nepenthe lay waste to ruin

What might have been a clandestine heaven

With dreams that gazed upon the yonder

Of mysticism, limerence, and wonder

Altercations, though idyllic its lambency

Spare nephilim hearts and exquisite reverie

Wherefore doubt may have and doubt may be

Upon befallen tears of quiet syncope

Empty grave rather dreamless, hellfire cold

Rose above rampant flames that scourge the soul

This solitude threats me more than mercy

Lost in the spirits upon a past that never shall be

Yet, still I lay my hands upon dark lilac skies

Wishing for a memory that even seraphs dare defy

A sip of nepenthe lay waste to overtaken

What never was and never shall be my secret heaven.

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A Fool That Stands For Nothing

What good is a life
When you live it ashamed?
I dream just to be halfway
But all I am is a product of
Wasted efforts and best intentions…

~*~

I should have let the rope hurt me

Before I let it fully embrace my breathing

I covered the hope with a black curtain

So I wouldn’t have to see disappointment again

What did I expect? That it would disappear?

That I have everything to gain and nothing to fear?

I fought against reason and wasted my life scared

Asking for every idle chance from a god that wasn’t there

Now they all smile sympathetically and say it’s okay

You weren’t the ones that failed, so how would you know?

Every inch of comfort is uncomfortable and sickening

And every movement from the side is insanely slow

I should have seen it coming, and damn it, I really thought I had

But my head is stubborn and twenty doses of stupid, and I wanted it bad

I act like I’m so clever and apathetic, when all I am is pathetic

I never wanted to let you down, but I did…I fucking did.

~*~

We do this while you start wondering
If disaster is what you’re built for
Will I slowly learn to accept
That I won’t have more than a life on the sidelines
Or will I always be dreaming
Of liking life from the darkness alone?

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The Wrong Setting

I feel it everyday, it’s all the same
It brings me down but I’m the one to blame
I’ve tried everything to get away
So here I go again, chasing you down again
Why do I do this? Over and over…

~*~

I’m depressed diagnostical

Five seconds away from detonating

Can’t talk about my problems

Just gotta keep on fucking smiling

.

Don’t feel it’s worth it ‘cause I’m worthless

A waste of space and a waste of pain

So I’ll count all my secrets and my losses

And drive my best friend near insane

.

I can’t sugarcoat my neurotic rants anymore

In sweeter words and fancier metaphors

I used to patch up all the dull grey spares

But I ran out of pastel and neon colours

.

I can’t sleep, so I write, I can’t write, so I sleep

Repeat the cycle until it’s bent off backwards

I can’t do something, and I can’t do nothing

Summer’s just a prolonged heatstroke reward

.

I’m suicidal sensational

In between dying and already dead

But I can’t talk about the same problematic shit

Someone please get me out of my head…

~*~

It feels like everyday stays the same
It’s dragging me down and I can’t pull away
So here I go again, chasing you down again…

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The Callalily’s Song

You make me twist in my dreams

Diamonds fall from my eyes as I seem

Like a happy wave of melancholy

With heavy doses of sharp-taste irony

.

I can catch the gaze but not the embrace

I’ll hear the words but I won’t waste

Another second with such distal aches

Shivering in my spine as I break

.

A million emotions that jump in my blood

Are better than vessels drained of god

And my cheeks bruise again from the thought

Of dead roses in bloom and lungs in knots

.

What was bridged in that fateful midsummer

Shall last, interstitial, a transient forever

For perhaps the hazardous sins I’ll commit

In contusions are arrested in vignettes to omit

.

It’s the golden state glow of your undertow

Bringing me under and letting me go

Hidden in virulent sonatas I shall dare to chase

For a chance at hope to see your divine face

.

It may be the perpetual hurt that keeps me awake

And I may reach for sunshine blue but I won’t see it stay

But I won’t ever get tired, no, I’ll let my heart do all the talking

And listen to the rain for lost passion that keeps on singing.

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