Tag Archives: why

letters to s.d.: fragment #3 {selfish}

why can’t i fucking keep [REDACTED] from [REDACTED] the world?

.

please save me

when i don’t wanna

be saved, ‘cause

i just can’t be saved

i’m too damn weak

i’m too fucking tired

i’m just wasted away

i’ve spent nights

screaming at the top

of the balcony

until my lungs beg me

to calm the hell down

you told me not to do it

but temptation crushed

me in its serpentine hold

and why do you care?!

i’m not worth your time

i’m not worth any of

your vocal paintings

in lacquer and grey

i know you’ll never

write songs for me

when i am hurting

or when i am lonely

or when i’m miserable

and hell, all three

effects simultaneously

and i know you

won’t stop singing

even when i’m gone

your serenades are never

mine to hide to myself

as a decadent secret

i’m just not, you’re just not.

but why?

why do you keep the

rusty razors from dancing

on my leather heart?

why do you make me

vain to feel every pain

when i loathe emotions

and it hurts even more?

why do you keep me

awake all night, like a

paranoiac insomniac, but keep

me alive all damn day?

why do you make me

believe you wholeheartedly

when you softly say

“darling, you’ll be okay”?

why do you make me

laugh as i start to cry

and cry as i start to laugh?

why? why? why?

why do you even try?

why do i even lie?

why is it always you?

why do you keep me from fucking dying?

and why don’t i fucking care?

.

why [REDACTED] listening [REDACTED] shit?

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psychological games

don’t you fuck

with my head

using a star

of harsh lead

and don’t you

dare fuck up

my sense badly

by not making any.

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A Megalomaniac Megalopolis

″I make money, but fuck money we want love
Give me your heart and your hand and we can run…″

~*~

You missed the crooked target and slammed the painting on the fringe

Your trajectory was fucked-up from the beginning, but you didn’t cringe

It’s a syllogism logic, cold reanimation of glass memories and phantoms

You checked the list and the rearview mirror, but you skipped our column

It was a punch against the viscid honey, my plural interruption of hatred

Unauthorised to sell your bid against me, so you made my grave your bed

Don’t fall on your face love, that countenance is worth a bargain shop

And I’m a thief running semicircles in your grocery aisles until I drop

I’m affluent, but somehow always broke with mercury in my capillaries

I’ll die inhaling fumes but this shit just ain’t worth the expense of money

But I’ll be generous with my emotions, I’ll cash in my handshake on impulse

I’m a millionaire when it comes to stupidity, and I play casino for the fools

You’re the main grand event darling, I’m just the slipshod consolation prize

They cover me with cheap bouquets but this ribbon unravels from the lies

So three cheers for growing up too high, and one more of nepenthe for the road

Gusts of misery pushing you back, this is a tantrum of issues you can’t uphold

Don’t spend sedated backward glances, that mirror’s just screwing up your vision

If you came to bleed radiation and lust forget tonight, let me accomplish your mission.

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PvP

One wrong move at the dice

Two players with severe damage

Exacerbated with cold lies

They began tearing at the page

And the slight infection grew

Into a poisonous hatred deep

Infesting within the heartstrings

Until hardened were both to keep

But siphon off all the bad blood

With a white plastic spoon

Though I’m not saying it’s okay

Or gone any time or any soon

But perhaps the colliding friction

That clashed, made sparks

And burned off the connections

Leaving black scorch marks

My house of sand thus crumbled

When your foundations fell

I drowned in my own misanthropy

As wind kicked around shrapnel

And crying eyes that were hit

Viewed the world through a slit

This self-destructive nature of I

Collateral damage increased high

But there’s a chance at the point

And resuscitations of helium

To unfog the coalescing parties

Of dislike and transient delirium

Overturned chessboards cleared

And they reinstated parcheesi

Things seem to be in some order

So I’ll find an opponent, maybe

It’s 5 AM and I’m stupidly stuporic

And intoxicated with caffeine

But hell, what sober me would do

For another turn at our game.

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