Tag Archives: worse

The Division

Let me count the ways you kill me;

1.) You carved promises at the notches of my brittle bones, mercilessly enthralling and hypnotising me under the anaesthetic assurance that everything was fine, that I was fine, and that I wouldn’t ever have to destroy myself again; but all the while, you crushed the very foundations beneath my suspended feet and made heaven shatter all around me like an ethereal motion sickness. And as if that wasn’t enough, you set everything on fire and watched this wretched phoenix turn to listless ashes, never to rise again; a demented conflagration.

2.) You promised me for better or for worse, but as I tried to find new names for the shade of red in my lips, you forgot about the obscene sickness that’s violently heaving inside my compromised chest and without so much as a twinge of second chances or point-blank hesitation, you injected every indistinct symptom known and unknown to man, turning my shaky breaths to crystalline lilacs and my selfish ribs to impure glass. I asked for a cure, and instead I received a despicable panacea, a myriad riot of plagues that irreparably devastated my system, ripping me to irreversible shreds. “You can’t get hurt if all you feel is hurt, right?”

3.) I’ve got hands like houses, and you rejected my severed hospitality as you broke down every locked door and deceptive boundary like it was nothing; like I was nothing. I constantly find myself lost in complicated syncopes, as I’m trapped spiraling and crawling back to the same self-sustaining cycles of parabolic grief and hypertensive schizophrenia, predicting premonitions that never came true. This eternal winter freezing over my bloodline is stitched together by a million blizzards and snowstorms conspiring exquisitely at once, but this difficult tantrum of a weather is not a tribulation to you, is it? Your cold temper is intolerable, a thousand suns melding together and detonating convulsively in the empty vacuum of space, and there’s no one else around to hear me scream one last time. I wanted to burn. You took it too far.

4.) Were you even sorry? Did you even feel a single taste of contrition when you watched my starving, pathetic soul grapple for life at the very nave of that decimated altar, asking for the silhouetted universe to fall on my back so that it wouldn’t be my fault, nor yours, that everything got screwed over? Did you see what I’ve done, just so I wouldn’t be what you’ve become? I couldn’t find my way back on the ground, so I swallowed my pride like pried coffin nails for the sake of a more poignant memory to remember; retribution heals what time cannot. Yet now I close my reckless eyes and softly coalesce in sadistic plumes of the miserable discourse you call an intravenous love, and I beg, and I beg. Were you even sorry at all?

5.) You are me, and I am you. I have no one. You are no one. When you lived, I died; and when you died, I along with you. I called it genocide. They called it desperation. For I am me, and you are you. There was no one else. They called it suicide. I call it salvation.

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Filed under Prose

Outbalanced

What are they saying, I’m not raw?
What the fuck you take me for?
All the sudden you hear what
I’ve said a hundred ways before?
I been pushed, I been trapped
Drug myself through hell and back…

~*~

The euphony and the madness

Calling out to the sane and the sadness

Conjuring up emotions I forgot I had

And when I have it, I have it bad

.

I don’t want to be down at all

But I don’t think can’t hear you now

As it doesn’t take much to drag me under

I want to be far away from forever

.

I just can’t figure it out, figure it out

I’m counting on things added by a zero

Pretending there’s a cause to be had

Pretending like I’ll be the next fucking hero

.

Because here I was, thinking I’m okay

But when the worst gets bad, I don’t want to stay

Here I am still hoping not to run out of space

But the chase got me tripping all in the wrong place

.

I’ll compose myself when time stops again

Black out all the memories with bitter novocaine

I’ll try to stay sober as I numb out the relapse

Keep the light off my eyes until this overthinking stops.

~*~

Sometimes, sometimes you don’t say goodbye once
You say goodbye over and over and over again
Over and over and over again…

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Filed under Poetry

The Taste Of Bad Medicine

Drag my hand behind you
Like a chain behind a truck
Sparks over your carpet while
I chase you through the darkness
Somebody’s supposed to fall in love
But nobody even calls; somebody’s supposed to…

~*~

If I held the gun that made your insides feel worse

Tell me, is it still a blessing or have I become your curse?

Your marionette body makes me fall apart again

After I’ve taken my prescriptions and adjusted my skin

.

I’m too selfish to taste all these abrasive chemicals

Forming newer lies at the tip of my pale purple tongue

So won’t you take them away and shatter up these brick walls

That’s keeping my sanity in, just another emergency man

.

In the bedroom floor where our breaths feel like the new testament

My tell-tale heart is still writhing and clawing desperately at the cement

You buried me in black and white, but all I could see is an endless blue

Starving for some modesty like it’s some unheard modern-day virtue

.

So break me away, I’m responsible for this reckless self-medication

Just to sleep and dream a little longer, just to find something to hold on

Because all I hear is anguished screaming from the other side of that door

And I could only listen so much to this overdose before I could take no more

.

If I held all the pills that made your insides feel worse

Tell me, am I your blessing or do I have to call up a hearse?

Your puppeted agony makes me fall apart, and then

I’ll take two and pass out just so I could call you in the morning.

~*~

Tear this place apart
Until you find me hiding, silently I wait
You’ll be excited just to see me someday
Everything’s okay…

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Filed under Poetry

Cause Of Death

Have you ever had enough of it?
Straight over it, sick of it, can’t get a hold of it?
Like a drug I need another fix
I’m a moth to a flame and I’ll burn for the hell of it
Battle scar ’cause I lost the fight
Every time I take a breath it’s like I’m losing my life
Fuck it, why am I so dysfunctional?
So irrational? I don’t know what to do…

~*~

The medicine you said you only injected under pressure

Crashing the fluids in your spine, worse than acupuncture

Don’t expect me to stay for another panache dosage round

I’ll down another shot of NyQuil to sleep safe and sound

.

Madness is the disease you declared was the supreme cure

Sane is just an inadequate substitute for the epiphanies pure

But if that’s the case, then why did you have to lock me up

In the asylum you once revered, and my system left to rot?

.

Will they forget the failed experiment that is my botched heart?

When your scientific curiosity deigned for its imminent restart

But the shocking electric currents seemed to pass the wrong way

Now my body’s shaking uncontrollably, and you pushed me away

.

But despite playing the doctor, you killed more than you healed

With each accident you’ve revived, more saline fluid was spilled

It’s okay, I know my nameless wounds would bleed out like death

And I’ll let you mark it in the coroner’s report, outline by the bullet

.

You conducted my autopsy, hoping to find and satisfy the missing answer

I would’ve told you myself, darling, if only you had asked me a little nicer

But when you finally satiate your desire to create and mitigate destruction

I’ll be there standing at the wreckage, all primed to pull the loaded weapon.

~*~

So I push you away until you beg me to stay
Just for the thrill of the chase, you got me intoxicated
Fucked in the head from all the things that we did
But I will never forget I need you, my medication…

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Filed under Poetry

at the edge of my seat (but i can’t fall off)

Curtains close, take a bow
I think we fooled all of them now
Who you are, what you say
What you do each and every single day
I’ve made my bed, so I’ll lie in it
I’ve dug my grave, so God help me die in it…

~*~

i don’t feel right at all

it’s as if i have a hangnail

at the sides of my heart

and i want to excavate

my chest and pull it out

even if that would make it

worse and bleed me out

but i just fucking can’t

.

it’s like a thousand eyes

digging holes in my flesh

dictating what i should feel

soft glances then angry glares

sweet skies then dark rains

never constant, always blinking

fluctuating under oscillating

up and down and up and down

.

it’s like a quicksilver potion

by a bastardous mad scientist

injected within my system

mercurial and temperamental

turning me in a million shades

of colours unknown to the mind

until i’m unconscious, oblivious

to my own grotesque sentience

.

no, i don’t feel right at all

and it’s like i want to detonate

from all the myriad conflictions

and the infinite contradictions

shattering, breaking, annihilating

i just want to be alright for once

i just want to feel nothing at all

but i can’t…no, i fucking can’t.

~*~

Just like the living dead, I’ve got a taste for something
And I don’t want it, I just need it
And I can’t believe that it’s getting harder just to feel alive
It’s getting harder just to feel alive…

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Filed under Poetry

open season

i have never told you a single thing

because i do not want you involved

i do not want you to get in the way

of such trainwreck i have devolved

if it was better for me, i would bite

they all say it’s what’s fucking right

but i know there’s not a damn point

there’s only cliche bullshit to anoint

of medication and invasive therapy

that leaves no personal room for me

and i do not want paid-for sympathy

nor will i waste my time for insanity

six years i’ve been dealing out alone

and i’m still alive right now, aren’t i?

i’ve done everything to keep it all in

fucked in the head with fucking lies

but i’m fighting back, broke apology

i cut my wrists, but never too deeply

i repress depression, relapse, release

i’ve people to pull me out of the seas

i still hope, i still dream, and i’ll love

i’m still disgustingly human by blood

i am damaged, but that does not mean

that i’m not trying to change anything

so please just stay away from this mess

and honestly, this is just all for the best

say it’s help my mind need endures, but

you just might end up making me worse.

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Filed under Poetry

Sleepless in San Diego

Splash over your body while you drown on me
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet
Enter the galaxy of our sober demise
To the young and without type…

~*~

Just slow my breath

With drowsy whispers

That seek nightmares

And wayward kisses

Intertwining graceful

With my quiet jinxes

The ocean steals you

From a painted coast

I’ll retrieve the wind

Tasting your incense

And count the sonatas

In pastels of past tense

Listen to cold promises

Making us both shiver

But don’t hold the rope

Bullets suspended over

Misdirected phantoms

Of our faithless prayers

Arsonist hearts burning

Kerosene in full colours

Dear, don’t be ashamed

Of these tinderbox stars

Ash on your cinder skin

A paper town from afar

Froths of sea-foam teal

Alcohol in warm blood

Confessions and candy

Nonexistent rest flawed

Sundays spent revolving

Match stricken in water

Clocks in a slow motion

In a misleading summer

I won’t lose you this time

As my dreams begin to fall

You’re making me worse

And I don’t mind it at all.

~*~

Don’t believe it’s a never-ending summer
‘Cause they don’t exist
Tied around your tongue in all the rage and spit
So why am I the one falling apart?

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Filed under Poetry

Withdrawals

I’m suffering

From lost actions

And drowning in

Failed distractions

.

In cold drip sweat

And lethargy

With painful lust

Tongue quavery

.

It’s like a drug

Placebo pills

And life’s a drag

Too close to kill

.

Even worse than

Cigarettes on

Alcohol and

Medications

.

Unsettled nerves

Sinking feelings

Rising up bile

Tastes sickening

.

Incoherence

Mumbles of black

I can’t do it

Let me go back

.

I’m fucking great

Just losing sense

Trapped withdrawals

From your absence.

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Filed under Poetry