Tag Archives: words

Conciliating the Innocuous Evil

Don’t stop drinking, the water will hold

I’ve got a tap on the oceans, seven-fold

Did I bruise your two lips efficaciously?

You’re an adenoidal suicidal blue baby

Sterile words are asthenic sanitisation

Are you embarrassed by that attention?

A cavalcade of tragedy and menagerie

Demarcated flirtation in grave robbery

My wink scheming pertinent adulation

Vindication is not the equivocal potion

Presentiment is a faux rubbish tumbril

If you wish to execute me, I’ll fire at will.

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Scollegare

Words woven together

A lacework of articulacy

That once veiled under

A taciturn you and me

.

Words dragging knives

Into the ruined tapestry

Now laid in tatters for

A seething you and me

.

Words hung like clouds

Of a settling fog, heavy

Enveloping lines around

A wayward you and me.

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Vanishing Point; All That’s Left Are Traces Of You

And without you is how I disappear
And live my life alone forever now
Can you hear me cry out to you
Words I thought I’d choke on
Figure out I’m really not so with
You anymore, I’m just a ghost
So I can’t hurt you anymore…

~This Is How I Disappear; My Chemical Romance

~*~

If you found me gone one day, with nothing but a whirlwind of scattered letters and notebooks and papers, with one parched fountain pen dying of dehydration in the middle, lying forgotten in my dislimned room like an ironic tableau, to indicate the figure, the mass, the emptied space which my once-corporeal missing body once occupied, what would you do?

Would you silently shut the door, lock the house, and leave, leave that damned place that swallowed me whole, and start afresh, burying all memories and preludes of mine, allowing it to be covered in dust and cobwebs along with the crumbling papers, in that lonely dark room in a restless abandoned house, doomed to become another cheap haunted tourist attraction—?

Or would you take a deep breath, gathering all your aplomb and composure in a single oxygen intake, preparing yourself for the worst yet still hoping for the best, grip the knob with sweaty quivering palms, open the door with a prominent creak, and step in cautiously, allowing the darkness of the shadows and the lingering ghosts of what once was to chill your bones and embrace your every being—?

And if you were to choose the latter, if you were to gather all the papers, crumpled, clean, torn-up, every scrap and bit scribbled upon in a fit of either ennui or frustration, and put them together, as if they were the puzzle pieces that will finally solve the complexities and mysteries of my shambled life, and you read them, word for word, letter for letter, line for line and rhyme for rhyme, the mindlessly scratched punctuation and intentionally scratched out words blurring into a singular monstrous emotion that discreetly ravaged and poisoned your child’s system internally, now reforming and threatening to tear at your soul’s throat, as you read the unorganised pastiche of all my regrets, passions, agonies, jubilances, those things that I wanted to say, those things I never said, and those things that I will never get to say, what would you do?

Would you tie those anthologies of pain and paradise altogether in a messy little bundle, and without so much as an apology nor prayer, simply toss them gracelessly into the raging hungry fireplace, letting each scrap of paper curl up like dying butterfly wings and be devoured by the rising flames, starving for memories to destroy, turning my thoughts into bitter ashes, no longer to be sifted and repaired, rather only left to the whim of the wind, to get caught in people’s eyes, leaving my life to be an open case, speculated and falsified upon, leaving the words of the dead to remain dead and only an unspoken echo, a pale blot in the fabric of time—?

Or would you tie those florilegiums of hurt and happiness altogether in a neat little bundle, and with utterances of faith and assurance, share them eloquently with the others wanting in hope, letting each page be turned with eager fingers like flourishing petals of blue forget-me-nots and be devoured by the willing masses, voracious for memories to engrave, turning my ponderings into a spectrum of colours, no longer to be ignored and rotting away in a locked grey vault, rather to be left in the whim of the breeze, to get caught in people’s hearts, leaving my life to be stipulated and validated upon, making the words of the dead come back to life and to gain a voice of their own, a universe itself in the tapestry of time—?

And if you opted for the second decision, and you succeeded, what would you do if you returned to my room one day, and found me, sitting casually on my bed, with an overflowing ink jar dripping murky tears on my desk and a flurry of blank sheets of paper like a hurricane of unconceived literature on the spotless carpet, taciturn as I write out brand new compositions with a faint yet genuine smile on my solid scarlet lips, content with my slowly unfading existence, colliding shades of carnation and pastel tints efflorescing on my pallid cheeks and everywhere else that the bleeding colours chances to touch, revived by your efforts, revived by the memory of my name fresh in everyone’s sentience, unaged and youthful, looking as if I never left, this place, this world, and a void in your mind, in the very first place?

Would you tell yourself that all this, was simply nothing but a tired delusional dream of yours, disintegrating into the aether as soon as you make contact with it—?

Or would you dare step in again, completing a full möbius strip of the vanishing cycle, into my bright phantasmic room, and touch my skin to see if the bubble pops…?

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A Covetous Call Of Clarity

Just like a tick, I’m itching the back of your throat
You miss the beat while I’m hanging on every note
You gotta choke cause you swallowed a problem
Not gonna take this, not gonna take this!

~*~

I despised your guiling swords of histrionic eloquence

Sharp tongue slashing cuts to the point of garishness

Every clanking word like an aged hard treacle in its tartiness

Your kisses causing me tooth decay and imminent stress

.

“Oh you silly bird, I’m not a threat” you oh-so silkily assured

And how careless it was of my ineptitude to believe that

All your prior motives were bleached white, strikingly pure

I bit on the card, despite the murky venom you clearly spat

.

How was I, a desperado, to have foretold this tragedy?

How was I to surmise that you’ve hidden a weightless dice?

When I look back on your lifelines, your inscribed litanies

All I envision is an ostentatious parade of chromatic lies

.

Where was my head in all of these? Distorted in the grey clouds

That you created with every breath as you sat smoking your pipe

A most rancid smell, yet intoxicating, of tobacco compound

But I was too indulged in the bittersweet nicotine to fight

.

“Oh, I’m an incarnadine goddess, a quite reliable vial of blood

Just let me be your saving grace, let me be your TNT spark”

And I let you flambeaux up the resting embers in my chest

And despite all my cautious prayers, I detonated nonetheless

.

Now where do I stand? Sullenly relaying your past discourse

The way an ashen-faced prisoner would steal a fallen lamplight

Just to read his personal announcements, bereft and morose

Clutching tightly a letter about his execution by hanging tonight

.

I’m defeated by your idiosyncrasies, your imagination is a tight rope around my neck

It pains me to even conjure the thought that to your fabrications I’ve been a gracious host

In the end, it all comes down to a single statement, a mouth with a flair for the dramatic

I’ll let your virtuoso hands pull the trapdoor lever, fingers trembling as I give up the ghost

.

A final violent shade of verdure is beginning to spread, clashing against my bruise-blotched cheeks

Blossoming briskly, an ironic requiem, though I’ve sorely wished for nothing but for them to already wilt

Somehow those sentimental chemicals in my asphyxiated brain keep acting as a mercurial fertiliser score

My last deathwish is that you’d be kind to pluck them from my heart, loved one, after all, what’s a single tear more?

~*~

I swear your head is bigger than us all, getting bigger
Go slit your own throat, slit your own throat!
You’re more turned on than anyone could be by yourself
Go slit your own throat, slit your own throat!

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Caution: FRAGILE THINGS

Scratching at the floor inside my mind.
They all accept the lie
So bury what you are outside
Brother, please don’t be afraid of me
I know you’re tortured within
And your eyes look hungry again
But I’ll never wander, my friend…

~*~

…I know you’re broken again.

Dropped around so you put a faint sloppy smile on your flushed face that winds up dead

You’re ripping pages apart and erasing carefully those ugly murky dark finger ink stains

That betray the crimson words and scarlet fevers that your wounded soul has already bled

.

I know you’re broken again.

Not handled properly, so you bite on your chafed ragged fingernails to the very bone

And when your absconded voice runs out of sappy silver songs to hear and lend

All that screeches in your knotted earphones is lyrical dissonance and static tones

.

I know you’re broken again.

Tossed about, and that bubbly sweetened façade fizzles, falling tastelessly flat

You’re stabbing rueful aching defamations that your hushed lips never meant

And even God gets tired of your weakening queries of who’s and why’s and what’s

.

I know you’re broken again.

When those fragile blue glass eyes never really quite meet the glance of faith

Grimaced mouth waiting to snap, twitching like ochre flaming moths in pain

Drowning in shots after shots of stinging ethanol in a pub to sober up your hate

.

I know you’re broken again.

When every quiet whisper of your heart chambers reek badly of senseless suicide

Backed by the clanking chains wrapped in your shallow breathing throat, paced to remain

When your serpentine skin sheds to bare a beastly monster into a somnolent night

.

I know you’re broken again.

Those transparent crystal dragonfly wings will always continue crumbling down, sweetie

So just tell me, just tell me, confess under these chandelier midnight skies and silent drumlins

Won’t you tell me the truth already, ’cause I really thought that I never meant to hurt nobody

.

I know you’re broken again.

Falling apart into fettered jigsaw pieces, wading soggy and silent on the shower floor

Scalded glimmering tears and soap-studded scars, and down the rusty drain they blend

Screaming nothings to the stained tiles and they only echo back until your ears are sore

.

I know you’re broken again.

And you know I can see past your haunted dreams and marionette theatrical show

And we both know I also spend a thousand nights awake caught in emotions of frigid snow

I can see through your perfect acting, I’m just another actor who crashed your play though

.

I know you’re broken again.

With those telltale signs, those nuanced symptoms, those empty orange prescriptions

You’re shaking pink pills and suppressing purple chills and tasting bitterly warm oxygen

No complex mystery, only crestfallen sympathy, honestly, you’re mirroring my every depiction

.

No need to hide and desensitise and patch up with poignant pretty lies, I know you’re broken again

You’re a dimming lightbulb with a flickering glow of hope and it’s shattering my hued fairy lights when

There’s no need for wasting life on lost farewells and waiting list-prayers, I know we’re broken again

But we’re tangled selfishly in our own great escapes, caught up in sin, why didn’t we think to just fix each other then?

.

…I know we’re broken beyond repair.

~*~

This is not what I want
But now it’s what I need
Can I just have one more taste
Just to make it through the day?
You’re tangled in
You’re tangled in the great escape…

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Dinner is Served!

Watch your mouth, oh, oh, oh
Because your speech is slurred enough
That you just might swallow your tongue
I’m sure you’d want, want to give up the ghost
With just a little more poise than that…

~*~

A high table set for two

Small talk held by glue

Out comes the waiters

Bon apetit! Here’s supper

.

Veins popping in vanity

Pustules snap insanity

Optic nerves on my tea

Mouth tastes of saline IV

.

Your rancid sick words

Shoved down my throat

Falling fast, broiled cold

Pulsating tongues bloat

.

You would not sugarcoat

Though relentlessly gloat

My orifice dripping honey

Disgusting, sticky, runny

.

Now swallow your pride

An hors d’oeuvre to slide

Pushpins and rusty tacks

For appetisers and snacks

.

Gourmandise on your desire

Dreams roast on an open fire

Slime oozing from a cauldron

Seltzer fizzling, peptic solution

.

I’m salivating thickest ink

Blood rich on hungry lips

Coiled intestines unlinked

Lead taken in dainty sips

.

A heap, hell, shred of trust

Is all I ever asked, deserve

But you spat out more rust

And feed me more dessert

.

You force down fatty lies

And doses of pink poison

Plucked wings of dead flies

Acidic brew of pure emotion

.

I understand and I endure

Try to find medicinal cure

But despite meals so many

I’m still wasting away slowly

.

I’m sick of disgusting dinners

I’d rather starve than break fast

Like the last meal of a sinner

Lost in hunger and stones cast

.

Your dark overcooked words

Just taste severely bitter now

And your false presentations

Won’t appeal to me somehow

.

A taste of your own brand of medicine

Right now, is what I’m highly craving

When my blood’s already boiling over

Into scalding burns you won’t recover

.

And when you choke on that black bile taste

Regurgitating fast that acrid foamy white paste

Well, don’t you throw it up back to me, crying

Because dear, it’s just rude, and highly unappetising.

~*~

Or was it God who chokes
In these situations, running late?
No, no, he called in
Prescribed pills, to offset the shakes
To offset the pills
You know you should take it a day at a time…

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Sever

Cut away the binding, choking crimson cords

That connect us, effectively separating our ties

Pop all the exchanged bubbles of floating words

Broken fuzzy communications between you and I

Shatter the shiny mirror that together we built

Rid the evidence, sure, but the scars will remain

Burn the rickety bridge connecting our domain

Relay conflagration while I’m still crossing it

Shamelessly walk away from this and simply leave

Between us, gracelessly build a huge towering wall

Just leave me dangling, calling, in this jagged angry cliff

Just sever the rope, my last lifeline, and let me take the fall.

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Childish Playthings

You never seem to learn, do you, careless child?

Suffice it to say that you’ve been thoroughly wild

You’ve dashed around madly while running your mouth

Starting such false rumours and making everyone shout

.

You love to hurt with words, and this twisted game you played

To stab a knife down everyone’s bleeding shoulder blades

Black and white, you love to play this human-sized game of chess

And in the end, knock the hapless pawns over in a state of mess

.

You cheat, you lie, you double-cross, you easily create prevarications

A serpent’s forked tongue dripping venomous equivocations

Madness master, wicked witch, the power of vicious spells you can conjure

With a simple jinx and a single word, you manage to instantly injure

.

Taunt and dangle strings of what should never be behind our backs

Dancing with fire, a born arsonist and an egotistic pyromaniac

You love to see innocent people go up in bitter grey smoke

Stealing what little we love have because you yourself lost all hope

.

You’ll never be able to learn, will you, charlatan child?

You’ll still manipulate and hate, leaving us victims defiled

But someday you’ll make a mistake, and end up stabbing yourself in the back

And maybe, just maybe, if you ever recover child, you’ll finally grow up.

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Deflated Heart

Words can be nails that drive in deep

Don’t hurt yourself; proceed with caution

For your chest may be made of very tough steel

But your heart’s a fragile rubber balloon.

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Brick Walls (And) Beyond

Dislodging letters

And

Crumbling words

All fall down the drain

Tumbled thoughts

And

Frozen tongues

Washed away by rain

Sounds of midnight clear till heart

And

Muffled whispers no one parts

One last memory in the dead of the night

As silence fights for silver tones

And

Takes the world asight.

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