Tag Archives: wish

long nights

Oh, how its raining
Oh, how the water falls
Into the safe things
We tried to set in stone
I can’t replace you
I can’t escape you now…

~*~

it’s gonna be a long night

without your stars to count

this time i wonder if the planet

breathes without a pause of doubt

i wish the ocean was as blue

as your feather words and halo eyes

i close away my mind just to think

there’s no sugar without a hint of spice

but under the bed where flowers bloom

the sour notes never leave your arms

and the nightlight illuminates my dreams

where loving you does me no harm

but i lie to myself as i lie awake

wondering if giving up control was my mistake

ivory piano and sheep lulling desperation

as i await the end of an endless oblivion

i can only wish i didn’t feel this much

as i lay down my thoughts without a sound

and without your skin to be my respite

i know it’s gonna be another long night.

~*~

But I remember the nights when you’d lie with me
Where we’d talk and we’d touch and we’d fall asleep
I wake up in your arms and I’d feel at ease
But now its just me and I lie awake
And I toss and I turn and I see your face
When I wake from a dream it won’t go away…

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hello, shooting star

send my mind

into deep space nine

to reach for stars

that keep on lying

i’m dumb on dreams

and on unpleasant hopes

my neck is screaming

“hand me the rope”

but i won’t be dragged

by one or two mouths

this is all that i have

my body’s naiant south

and one day i will be

dancing with galaxies

i used to gaze upon

locked in wishful reveries

so send my lost mind

into bright circles of heaven

i don’t need angel wings

i’ll find my own way until then.

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parroting

silence is a

distant bird

at the back

of my throat

daring to fly away

.

conversation

is a broken

winged dove

wishing to soar

yet never getting away.

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Fork in the Road

I wanna let go of all the shame I live in
It’s all coming back because you always give it
I’m falling apart, when the heart breaks up
I’m moving forward…

~*~

Please keep your distance

I may be here but my mind’s miles away

I’m just another hitchhiker

And you don’t have to pick me up anyway

So maybe it’s all better off

If we let the stretched kilometres speak for itself

I’m caught in your headlights

But I’ll take the juncture’s path and wish you well.

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Saturni Ad Infinitum

~*~

CHANGE OF PACE

To see the clouds dragged down in vain

Another schism pulled away into disdain

An aftershock of cyanide writ in red letters

The austerity banished and again embittered.

~*~

MIKO

Disconnected dissension dwelt in maiden shrines

A lone voice seeks peace in a tempest of rigid design

In precarious erudition and fraudulent disputation

As her ebony tapestry is burned in laureate predilection.

~*~

DELLE PIOVERE

Recherche glistening in rusticated reveries of diamond dewdrops

An avalanche of labyrinthine dreams brimming to the cusp

Illicit, a monochrome heart searches tranquility in the midst of dissonance

Nihilism whispers for each staccato beat, as behind the pale moon, shadows dance in elegance.

~*~

TAKING BACK RED

Notches on the canvas that used to be the purest of white

Now reduced to common insanity, pilfering a virgin sight

Chagrined wish never uttered, held at the back of interface

And hope—against hope, that the ruptures will be erased.

~*~

CHASING FOR A GLIMPSE

Just tell me when you’re down, and we can go downtown

To paint the rain with auburn blues, draw on every smiley face a frown

Just tell me when you’re not alright, and we can stay all night

To pen about storms in chemical black, write until you take back the light.

~*~

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Broadcasting Live From The Seatbelt

Come one, come all, you’re just in time
To witness my first breakdown
‘Cause there’s a mile gone
For every minute passed
When I’m stuck in this town…

~*~

For every minute I count at the tip of my jaded palm

Makes me believe that I can actually give a damn

Third time’s the charm, but the thirtieth’s just tiring

I’ll save my breath for the holidays I won’t be taking

.

Change the radio station when nothing good’s ever on

Witness as I crash my car high on the beat of a breakdown

Just to make the news, just ‘cause I’m fucking bored

At least something exciting happened in this deadbeat town

.

But I don’t need a doctor, and I don’t need more pills

I’m not crazy, just feeling sorry that I don’t know what to feel

Passed out from the traffic fumes, stuck in my head for hours

Wishing I had better hair, wishing I had superpowers

.

And I’m not coming clean, what else is the reason now?

Dreams don’t come for free, especially not in this late hour

My stereo’s playing the greatest hits, I’m so sick of hearing it

I’d drink beer and smoke a drag, but I don’t know when to quit

.

For every second and mile that I waste, wasted off these foolish promises

Like my ragged backseat holster and stained carpet, my existence is a mess

And this just in, the latest breaking news is that I’m already fucking breaking

But I’ll step on the brakes until it stops, until I don’t know which road I’m taking.

~*~

So go on and lock me up, you better throw away that key
Before I find out where you broadcast from
Because your playlist is killing me
I’ll change that station, light it up like the 4th of July
It’s me, I’m caller fifteen, time to play my last request…

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Gloom Boys in Natural Blue

I have candy floss over my eyes, and no one can ever take that away from me.

I’m a double dare away from jumping into the clouds and getting lost in heaven, and even though their motionless lips tell me otherwise, imploring that the despondent sun will burn my frail skin and my charred cape will drag me back down into the ground, I’ll simply fly over them and defy what it means to be human.

For being an angel is not made of mere matchsticks and febriculic feathers, rather, it is the catastrophic sensation of breathing in your existence from your lungs and never letting it go, holding your oxygen in so tight that your chest will hurt, and tasting the very molecule that the wind is built up of, all before exhaling heavily and letting others share the light that passed the very chambers of your symphonic heart, and inhaling that decadent love once more like it’s the only sugar high you need.

I’ll be dancing a hundred footsteps as I reverently play the halo’s mellifluous beat around my head over and over again, but I shall never get tired of laughing and listening, and the glow never fades, the glow never coalesces into a darker retrospect of aspirations and bad habits, the glow is etched at the very back of my confounded head and if I close my eyes and wish a little softer, I can see pastel whispers floating and resonating behind my dreams, smiling quietly as it tells me fairy stories about twill reveries and acrylic oneirism.

Will you tell me that much? Will you beg in blazing yellow and speak in purple hand grenades, waking up again when the water parks detonate and soothing water splashes everywhere? This is not my gloomy lullaby meant to be kept under hushed tones and clandestine affinities, buried under the bones of ‘92, rather it is an everlasting caprice that is meant to be jubilantly shouted from the rooftops, until the nightingales and mynas and bluejays and hummingbirds mimic the colours in my eyes and echoes back a chromatic rainbow to be chased.

Am I not making any sense, or is the semblance of my self-optimistic throes withdrawing like violent ocean waves? It is not their fault, and it certainly isn’t mine. It’s yours. It’s all yours. This nonsensical tirade making me backlash the usual defamation that is my wretched soul, making me passionate for what used to be desert sand and black light, now efflorescent flowerbeds and ultraviolet ecstasy, making me smile and laugh childishly at the most fickle of things like a madman staring limerently into the cornflower moon. You let a playful cyclone into my bedroom while I was sleeping, and it ravaged my closet and spun me all the way to your window until I was sickly dizzy, and you held your hand out to steady me and pulled me in, winking cheekily at the cyclone and returning its breezy grin before waving it goodbye.

Now that I’m here, will you promise to keep me? Airplane conversations and clustered entertainment isn’t enough to leave me amused. Are you laughing at my sadness yet? Are you performing odes along to me mournfully singing about the underhanded depression that makes me mad all the time and fucks my worried flurried mind up when the night is young and makes me go down the long road home? I’m a car crash that you can’t ever look away from, and I can’t ever look away from you. But don’t follow me to the site of the wreck. If your favourite set of stairs is the one up to my room, piece together the trail of love notes I left in the kitchen that say it all, and when you find me, I won’t ever have to let you go up. Let’s be lucky people, you and me.

Amid tantrums and crybabies, you’re nothing but rare. I may not be a warrior and you may think I’m the worst, but I know I don’t have to sleep alone again. So won’t you stay awake, stay awake for me? If you’re singing about la-la-la-love, my tune is more to the beat of a la-la-la-lobotomy. You’re my yellow lovely jealousy, in natural blue and viridian green memories, I’m losing my mood in a late night phone call, shading everything else from silver to pink to hiding under porches and craving territorial phantasms, it doesn’t matter. My common sense is powerless when you speak, and I’m not royal but I’m stupid for you, and 11:11 can go away because I don’t wish for anything else. I’m tired. You’re tired. Let’s be tired together. It’s more fun that way, don’t you think?

I have gloomy clouds over my eyes, and only you can ever take that away from me.

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aseru

loud vivacious fireworks

and soft iridescent bubbles

little fugacious memento mori

serendipitous whimsical illusions

that i quietly wish to keep eternal

yet when it fades, only melancholy.

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heartaches painted in grey

i want a million diamonds

from the sky to shatter my perception

and allude my verboten tongue

.

waiting for florid ice and fire

to thaw in each other’s grasp, aureole eyes

flickering against the soft dimming of the lights

on and off and on and off and on…

.

these hearts don’t belong

to the bathroom stall

and your paperback tales aren’t mine

.

i wish i could collide my mouth with the promises

that you will never keep from me

and i wish you would climb out from the

black screen that you hide under

praying for a sordid memory

.

though they say it isn’t meant to be

but another distant heartache

spilling oil paintings at the back of my

monochrome cracked skull.

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cloudy

what if

dreams

are all

they really

will be?

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