Tag Archives: weight

L’exquise L’angoisse

Palpitating arteries eviscerate, a familiar taste that tastes like nothing

Frustrated art under his eyelids fading, clever words I’m never caught saying

Lost impressions leave deceptions, a tempestuous flood caught in the fray

Wish my headspace wasn’t suffocating the sun day after another day

.

Imagination stuttering, slowly dying, what are you trying to hide?

If hell’s your new phenomenon, I’m afraid it’s far too late to be described

Every broken bone that the restless audience throws back to your act

Refusing to feel right again, this time I know that I don’t know where to start

.

Don’t look at me. Don’t look at my deathwish. Nor my blinded existence.

I do not wish to breathe the same way you do. Do not bleed out of my presence.

My words are glass blades lodged under my bruised throat, so do not dare me to cough

The eclipse feels impossibly heavier without your weight to hold me down

And so I quietly submerge with only the sound of my empty thoughts.

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nocturnes, numbers, nyctophilia

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness—and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark. ~Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand

~*~

i.) the jealous penmanship

clever words left tears forming in my brain

ones that i have to open up my healing bruises

just so i could let them out somewhere

somewhere my veins wouldn’t be affected severely

(it was late at night, and my stars called out from nowhere)

sensations poured out from every letter and departure,

as it entangled itself with my nerves and wore them down,

and wore them like a dirty dress, and wore them out to town

until they were worn-out; nothing but a few stray threads.

i burned half of my journals when i turned 16 and stopped trying

to imitate being an author, because writing for me isn’t an expectation–

it’s nothing but another puzzling lock without a skeleton key

and because the most delicate daydream wasn’t mine

because selfishness, to me, is not just another bland adjective

because my bones screamed with the weight of a black hole

because your reveries were enchanting. and mine were f a d e d

n o , i ‘ l l  n e v e r  b e  a s  g o o d  a s  y o u

~*~

ii.) softness, like his heart in the shape of a newborn galaxy

i faded into an ugly shade of something that’s neither monochrome nor coloured;

on the verge of collapsing onto the other side of the fence, threatening madly

but never quite having the contemplation to choose a losing side

as i fell down into the blue of a stranger’s wanderlust eyes.

someone else had taken most of that vibrant shade already, but i managed

to steal away just a sliver, a glimpse, an infinitesimal shiver

and it was the kind of lasting cold that froze summer hurricanes

and kept my breaths visibly foggy and crisply sharp with every inhale

(you never warned me. you don’t know me, but you knew me too well. and i never listen.)

i’ll always be an insignificant detail in the cyan tapestry you painted for yourself

and i’ve accepted that long ago when i said i loved you in my nightmares,

tossing and turning on the bed covered in plastic arrogance because

no other blanket felt warm and comfortable enough for my body to sleep on

until then, i could only sink deeper into the fathomless wish that this universe would end s o o n

i t  w a s  a  k i n d  o f  l o v e  t h a t  m a d e  s u i c i d e  s o u n d  l i k e  m u s i c

~*~

iii.) an abrupt goodbye/the guilty party often disappears first

i was mad at something. i didn’t know what it was, but it was foolish enough

for me to take it out onto the embracing autumn sky, on the taciturn smiles that

were supposed to hold me when tempestuous desolation grabbed at my twisted throat…

and on you. you never meant anything. you just wanted to talk, and so did i,

but my tongue was a spilling box of blades, and every time i opened my

wounded mouth to make you laugh, i always ended up cutting you by accident instead.

(friend, even if i said i’m sorry, can you ever forgive me for what i’ve done to you?)

it was an unreasonable apology, and i erased myself because of my own self-hatred,

but not before leaving footprints of a migraine in your head, which you will inadvertently step on,

slip at, and hurt yourself…fuck. i don’t know why i’m like this. i don’t know why i have

to push and pull apart the only semblance of logic in my life, the only anchor

that keeps me from towing away from the tides, the last person that still feels real to me

when everything else has blurred into an amalgamated indistinct static background;

i don’t know why i feel so smothered, when you’re the only attention i’ll ever have and need.

at this point, the only thing we have is each other’s problems, and the way we both

jeered at it, taunted it, and blocked it out with our own shared playlists until we felt better—

but now that summer was just a distant memory, and so was the scarlet artwork we made of it.

you also needed comfort. but did even try? no. i ran away from the colliding wreckage

as if it wasn’t my fault, and i numbed myself out because i couldn’t do the same for y o u

i ‘ m  s o r r y  i  m a d e  y o u  s a y  s o r r y  s o  m u c h . . .

i  d i d n ‘ t  m e a n  t o  d e s t r o y  e v e r y t h i n g

~*~

iv.) the midnight closes. the violent curtain falls.

the cold glow of my computer screen was rude and restless

and it made my fingers promise, crossed and uncrossed, that i would

stay with it until it slips into comatose. i have rinsed my mouth with lukewarm water

a hundred times to try to wash out the taste of stale coffee, but it never came out and now

i’m stuck with it until morning, until another astrological moon cycle, until i lose

myself in the chemical moments of something that’s so artificially natural.

i’m constantly starving myself, stuck between confidence and relapsing withdrawals of

my past life that i thought i discarded when i finally held on to my shooting star,

but it was always tethered tightly to me by a crimson string. and it always probably will be.

i’m alone. i’m friends with people that talk shit to me in the mirror, and when i bite

my chapped lips and draw blood by accident, it almost feels like atonement. almost.

(i got what i came for and i can’t try again. this is what i want…..isn’t it?)

i know that there are people out there making fun of me and rolling their eyes

petulantly as they bask in the trite, whimsical “perfection” of their storybook existence

but not everything has a happy ending, and not every sad story has to end badly.

i don’t know. i’ll never know. i’m tired and i have responsibilities that i’m not

built for, and every crack turns into a break, and a break into shattered p i e c e s

t o m o r r o w  i ‘ l l  d o  t h i s  o v e r  a g a i n  .  u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  t o m o r r o w s .

~*~

v.) nocturnes.

( a n d  i ‘ l l  s t a y  h e r e )

u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  n u m b e r s  t o  c o u n t ,

a n d  t h o u g h t s  t o  f e e l ,

a n d  n i g h t s  t o  s t a y  a w a k e .

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The Diary Of Jane; or Three Excerpts

i.) him; or the rest of the infinite lie

Try to find out what makes you tick
As I lie down, sore and sick
Do you like that, do you like that?
There’s a fine line between love and hate
And I don’t mind, just let me say
That I like that, I like that…

revenge is colder than the dark ocean

that you carelessly left me to drown in

fill the chasm with the rest of my blood

and take warmth in my spiteless jealousy

as you want to make me bow down to you

but i’m carried away by your fading current

the horizon bends but never breaks the weight

is there another way to hold on to the sky again?

~*~

ii.) her; or the story no one wanted to tell

Desperate, I will crawl
Waiting for so long
No love, there is no love
Die for anyone
What have I become?

she’s sore and sick from all the fine red lines

her penned diaries have been burned to ashes

and no one tells her how it should be—or why

desperation ascending from her spine and body

“why don’t you die?” the windows were fogged

when she took her own life in that late autumn night

but no one wanted to cry tears for a corpse in a closet

so they buried her the best they could to keep her quiet…

~*~

iii.) them; or the guilt that burned a house

Something’s getting in the way
Something’s just about to break
I will try to find my place in the diary of Jane
As I burn another page, as I look the other way
I still try to find my place in the diary of Jane
So tell me how it should be…

the front porch is swollen with pink lightning bugs

the coffee’s cold, but i stopped drinking it long ago

i don’t want morning light to catch up with my sins

i have things in my head that they cannot ever know

so i write a final letter to dear agony, forget to sign it

but it’s never enough to keep my head from screaming

the gunshots should have disturbed their sleeping sister

but she’s not here anymore. i’m sorry. let’s just get this over

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a fathomless void

a weight that can only be felt

by breathing in the wrong kind of ozone

in a desolate universe, unraveling into

rust and dirt and long-ago bleached bones

a single pair of footsteps walk

the path, beaten down by phantoms

and mysteries hanging on an unused crucifix

the rearview mirror beckons minds on

but….onto where? onto the myriad lies that

stumble and fall back into rubbles

bruising careless feet and leaving contrived

wishes of contrition and softer mumbles

and alone—alone the blackened eyes atone,

alone the bastard hair sheds like broken roses,

alone the body dances until imminent decomposition,

alone. the man seeks, but finds no symphony amid the empty chorus.

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tempus

your time is like

shards of hourglass

lodged between

my ticking mind

and the sifting grains

of escaping sand

is slowly weighing

down my heart.

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the waiting game

anticipation

is building

and building

and building up

and still building…

but without

the relief of a

needed release,

it’s all i could do

not to crumble

under my own

nervous weight.

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iv.) intersections.

aesthetic-forest-road-trees-Favim.com-2544080 (2)

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A Momentary Lapse of Judgment

I’m just interference, noise and whispers
A shadow on the light, I’m dust on the record
Stop a static, a click, a compromise
A discord, a spark, a silhouette
A shady ghost, an echo of what’s left…

~*~

Dissonance playing rhythms in my mind

My mouth is barely touching the ground

Both my eyes cannot find their way down

Back again, I am drifting without a sound

In momentary distractions, unmemorable

Surface words leaving the barest of ripples

On the distilled clear of the glacial lakeside

With every lambent flourishing and withers

Silver lines tying and intertwining intricate

Then colourblind separation falls apart like

A shower of collapsing glasshouse, piercing

Opalescent, as shatters of astern fragile skies

Alluvial perspectivism resting itself on hearts

That have never once touched pure rainwater,

The magnitude concealing itself within caprice

And presenting in caustic dyes of oasis failures

Cacophonies dancing tarantellas in my thoughts

And my lilting lips are barely tasting the sunlight

Both of my hands can’t pull their own weight up

Back again, I’m crashing violently without a sight.

~*~

Now I’m interruption
Infinite and momentary
A modest distraction
Incomplete and temporary…

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going, going, gone

Why does it feel like home when I’m lonely?
I always found on the solid ground
I was tripping away from space and time
I don’t really mind that I’m slipping…

~*~

would they notice

if my eyes faded away

and i lost my way

to the beckoning light?

the constructed highways

and hanging bridges

i still have to traverse are

too treacherous for my feet

and i can’t drag it out

watch me fight back

my shoulders straining to

remove the weight of the world

from its teetering blades

and yet i fell off the balance

waiting for the end of hell

in the beginning of the creation

closing my open heart

in this faceless underwater

i’ll feel anxiety again if i resurface

so i’ll embrace the cold and let

myself sink peacefully

all the way to the bottom

soothing the burns in my tongue

and the wait that manifests

saying i’ll jump off if i’m far too lost

and no one could come with me

to the deepest end of nowhere

where no one could reach my hand

and pull me back again

into the chaos they call home

who knows if i could still return

maybe i’ll just disappear for a while

after all, no one would notice.

~*~

We could disappear for a while
We could disappear if we’re going far away
It’s not running away, we were never meant to stay
In the first place, we could disappear for a while…

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Illumina

i was wrong to think

dear, that the lights would follow you

back home, where i sleep alone

with an extinguished lamp

.

perhaps you were too prudent

and needn’t dare to waste the stars

on such fickle promenades

.

or perhaps i wasn’t worth the weight

of a galaxy where you exist

.

or perhaps the infinite nights were too much a burden for you

.

but whatever the curious reason

i still stand solitary under a dismal sky

and you’re still kissing the sunlight

as the moon falls under the endless well

weeping grievously for its lost love

.

and my heart wouldn’t be forgiven

for all the scars it left on yours

.

but i hold starlight within my eyes

ones you shall never touch nor extinguish

like the cold lamp smouldering by my bedside

.

for i was mistaken to think, dear

that you were the only source of luminescence.

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