Tag Archives: wound

The End of an Era

Here he is, he saves a grin
He wants to be the one who doesn’t have to sink a level
Indiscrete, in his retreat
All he needs is just a taste of the bitter pride
He held in her name…

~*~

Limits have their breaking pointss

And can fall in utter disrepair

What used to be bound with ropes

Now dangles by a precarious strand of hair

.

Mirrors have their cracking webs

And when they spread, it can shatter

No matter how hard you try to fix it

It’s won’t show the same reflection ever

.

Bodies have their wounds and sickness

And we’ll always try to slowly heal

But someday no medicine could cure

And we will then be rapidly killed

.

Words have an end to their capacity

Someday you might run out of meaning

We talk and take things for granted

And in the end are left silently staring

.

People have their gentle push

But sometimes it comes to a shove

And no amount of closing apologies

Can ever return the former love.

~*~

He’s in love with an isolation from emotion
Here he is awaiting sentence
A fool to think that anyone can escape guilt and anguish
A subtlety that can’t be learned, a subtlety that can’t be taught
He is caught in the lure of second thoughts
He might still care, as he settles down well aware…

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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

May Is Not Enough For Me To Stop Bleeding

And as the sun went down, we ended up on the ground
I heard the train shake the windows
You screamed over the sound, and as we own this night
I put your body to the test with mine
This love was out of control, 3-2-1 where did it go?

~*~

My wounds cry for you alone

I wish to hell I could stop them

But my body is too out of control

From the thought of your oxygen

As your voice broke over the sound

Of the love that tasted like the skies

All my questions effervesce in evergreen

Heart shaking at the thought you’ll arise

And when you spoke of good intentions

Breaking again from my transgressions

Sorry was enough for you but not for me

As my lost lips faltered at “I’d rather be…”

I can’t own the thousand nights you have

I can’t keep it alone under my key and lock

I can’t collide twice with your perfect world

And all I have is your melting flesh to hold

A million and one miles ain’t enough to bring me home

And my floral pink dreams tear up as I cry for you alone

To where you’re waiting, as your shattered voice stops breaking

Walking as I close my eyes and clot at the thought of never waking.

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Filed under Poetry

metal & skin (viii.)

i’m no longer a liar

seeing it from other

people’s point of view

this bleeding wound

i have created makes

me feel brand new.

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Filed under Poetry

I wanna be the tattoo ink that swims down through the needle in your skin

I wish I was poisonous
Like a bottomless sound
Like a violent drug
Do you remember the knife I kept?
The sharper it got, the more
You wanted me to use it…

~*~

The night sings in slow motion, a stagnant riot of a melancholy latin church chorus resonating past the intricate stained glass windows, the flourishing finale guitar lick of a spanish melody that makes one’s heart leap past the curtains of complete composure. It was a rare opportunity to pause from life and a welcoming silence to embrace, and I was taciturn and brooding as I rested leisurely by the window ledge, smoking a Cuban cigar and contemplating panoply discussions rather thoughtfully. The breeze pushed past my weaning figure roughly like an impatient passerby, and for a moment, I appeared to teeter like a child on a seesaw, yet the fall at the other end never arrives to weigh down and elevate me back into several tangible seconds of an innocent bliss. There was no avoirdupois balance to bring my poised dangling toes back to touching the soft cool earth, apart from my own sanity, which always felt to me as gossamer as Arachne’s bone-white sumptuous silken hair.

And that’s all it takes for me to fall.

You weren’t there. You were never there. Last night you awoke in a disgusting bathroom stall on the underground tube, heaving your guts out to the non-too-catchy tune of the robotic announcer’s grumbles of ″Mind the gap.″ blaring through ancient dusty static speakers. Today you clutched a lock of your chewed trichobezoar hair along with a half-full bottle of Smirnoff and fell asleep under the kitchen table, next to the cupboards containing the jar of my uningested sleeping pills and your used ammonia and muriatic acid. But I was there. I was always there. I was the one who drove all night to find you and ran through four red lights to get you to the emergency room, and I was the one who spent several nights in a filthy cell at the police precinct, and paid in cash for both hospital bill and bail alike. Tonight, I’m the one who delicately carried you up a flight of spiral stairs and tucked you in meticulously on the cool bed that I fixed, and cleaned up the mess you made on the checkered linoleum tiles downstairs. You wrecked, I repaired. We cancelled each other out.

Just another usual midnight scene in this household.

I took a long drag and blew a sophisticated whorl of hazy plumes in spiced smoke, as the stars behind their screen of fumes appeared to shimmer a faltering skeletal grey, like a waning spectral hallucination. I always pondered dear, why our tongues, once a tangled and byzantine affair wherewithal, akin to the finest spool of golden thread, are now mondegreen against silver blades, screeching as it collides with the other, unpleasant and tinnitus-inducing. I was a halcyon sun. You were a hedonistic black hole. Prayers against passion, felicity to furtive, love over lust, gambol or glamour, inspiring despotically versus indulging decadently. It was always imbrications of forbearance, an insalubrious provocation of two people on the opposite side of the boxing ring, fists clenched, knuckles raised, prepared to throw the first punch with a ring of the bell. I wondered why I was so attracted to a dangerous force. I wonder now if I am a magnet, repelled by the same force, gravitating towards my polar opposite, difficult to leave once it pulls me into its charms and mysterious allures.

…No more shall I be fettered to you.

With a lassitude I wasn’t quite aware I possessed, I senselessly bit down on the tattoo of your flowery name embedded into my dermis, tearing with crooked dull stares onto the unflinching moon and gnashed dull teeth tearing numbly at the surface. I kept at the insane task until all that’s left are rancid shreds of muscle and skin, a rusty stormed bleeding out of oxidised scarlet dissolving against indelible black, the wound gaping wide like a mouth frozen in a scream. I didn’t flinch nor whimper, neither yelled nor reacted, throughout the immense pain of it all. I may have cried, but only because the winds were getting pervasive against my trophy eyes, and every droplet of tears that fell on the raw savaged cut stung badly like the astringent words you slurred to me before you passed out. With every bite I tore out of my maimed arm, it felt like an absolution, the atonement of your sins on my understudy role. My redolence was always an envious fragrance, but somehow your alcohol breath and sultry sweat manages to linger chokingly, stubbornly sticking in my skin like this godforsaken tattoo. It was all for you, all for you and more, do you understand?

But not everything is permanent, sweetheart. Not this night, not your name writ in pain…not my blinded sentiments for you.

I finally ceased with my thermonuclear breakdown, quit rending myself apart, physically and emotionally-wise. It was no use, yet I felt strangely cathartic. The effect was a chill down my spine that jolted lightning and candy-coloured breaths through my frosted oxygen, a shudder of a bittersweet one-night stand under the deathless Vegas lights, a morbid fascination of an angel standing solemnly in the morgue. The searing pain began to settle tauntingly in my tattered nerves, and it seethed as I wiped the blood off my lips, quite familiar to the taste of it all, reverting the vibrant colour of my mouth into its usual sickly pale pallor, creating an eerie Rorschach test of a splattered heart imprinted on my ivory-washed sleeves. These wounds I inflicted on myself shall heal. This ragged white shirt you bought for me on my birthday two years ago, I can drown in chlorine and detergent to get rid of the stains. The scar tissue that will be left, I can learn to tolerate, to ignore, to simply accept and live with. I am, at the best of the optimistic prospects despite my elsewhere wayward actions, free.

So why does the thought of you still fucking hurt?

But no. You were still resting in my bed, corporeal and very much concatenated to reality, and I can’t erase you like I did so to your inked name ever so brutally. You looked so goddamn beautiful as you slept through everything cozily, soundly dreaming of a million raining halo lights of neon glow in oblivion; and I was bloodied, jaded, and sunken as I watched the remaining shards of my waxen mutilated skin flutter downwards like grotesque snowflakes in dessication. I leaned in closer for a better view, almost losing my hold on the ledge and falling, as the scintilla pieces of a fractal violence and shorn sadism began billowing downwards elegantly and dispersed murmurously into the open salty breeze. Soon it shall waft out and travel farther than I’ve ever been, to a faraway fantasy land where some foolish child will stick their quivering tongue out and catch the puzzle pieces of the letters of your name between their grinning teeth, a poetic crassness. Fragments of you, that’s all that remains.

And that’s all that’s sempiternal.

~*~

I was lying to you
But you were lying too
So what’s left to do, what’s left to say?
Stop making friends, just us
I’ll decompose with you…

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Filed under Prose

Dolorous Decadentia

Is your heart singing out of tune?
Are your eyes just singing the blues?
Dirty records from another time
Some bloodstains on your shoes…

~*~

LOVE

Lonely, some are, looking desperately for a lifetime companion

Others may care not for their contagious desolation

Voices of sound reason becomes whispers of absolute treason

Everyone seems to fall on their knees, limerent to a faux ecstasy of a season.

~*~

ROSE

Rampaging against these tidal waves of cruel thorns

Over and under, on my rough skin the crisscrossing wounds are newly-born

Some blood may be shed, some injuries may never come to a complete close

Every pain matters not when I finally reach the single, beautiful red rose.

~*~

FORM

For this waltz of desecration and dignity, hold your chosen lover tight

Odalisque charm or sincere soul, harbinger of darkness or provider of light

Rays of heartless romance that pierce your flickering, faltering health

May your one last dance with life be graceful as you get pulled away by death.

~*~

STAR

Sharpened double blades of luminary constellation

Truculent tempers in a supernova, anger that causes exhilaration

Arrivals and fluxing of colour and chrome, radiant from afar

Relieve the moments when I felt dim and yet you still made me a star.

~*~

JINX

Je ne sais quoi, that’s how my doubtful, errant feelings felt at first

In times whenever I catch your sight, my heart seems to achingly thirst

Now I know the cold truth though, that I was poisoned with a with a diluted love liquid

Xenophilia was nothing but a desensitised lie that you set up for my emotions so insipid.

~*~

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Filed under Poetry, Valentines Poetry

A Writer’s Woes

It’s your great desire to wound my soul’s skin

But you never bothered knowing what lies within

For the pain you cause is mere inspiration unfurled

And all my body contains is an endless sea of words

.

Words for the joyous glory, and words for the hurt

Words aureate, lilting, and words ever so curt

Words to keep in secret, words to give and trade

Sentences, verses, stanzas, boundless stories are laid

.

So go ahead and be my guest

Pierce my heart raw and stab me red

For you’ll never get a satisfying conclusion, lest

For ebony ink is all I’ll ever bled.

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Poem Shorts

~*~

LOST

Wandering into endless depths of space

Condemned in an empty void, he lost his sanity

Because time won and he lost the race

Now he’s stuck there, lost for eternity.

~*~

AM I?

You tap me on the shoulder and ask me if I’m okay

I dry my eyes, smile, and simply say

“I’m fine, it’s cool, It’ll be great in all good time”

But inside I ask myself “Am I really fine?”

~*~

TIME HEALS WOUNDS

They say that time heals all wounds

But I simply cannot wait that long

These wounds and scars need to be healed soon

So shall we sew them up, while singing a little song?

~*~

EVANESCENT

You whisper goodbye to me

Then your words become evanescent

And like the deciduous leaves of a tree

You fall from my touch and finally break free.

~*~

RICHLY RED

Red, red, richly red

Flowing from my wrists into my bed

Streaming out of me until I’m dead

Red, red, bloody red.

~*~

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