slow descent (insomniac’s song)

July 24, 2014 § Leave a comment

I don’t want to clean up

I don’t want to dress up

I don’t want to apologize

For being alive

For being myself

I’m half awake most of the time

Still stuck in a dream

From last night

Those few hours

Of my slow descent

My slow descent

My soul is so heavy

I used to starve it death

Forgot how to feel

Got used to the numbness

Being part of the parade

Of the walking dead

A slow pretty death

Slow descent

My slow descent

I want to hide my face

I want to hide my flaws

I want to escape my mind

Maybe even find

Some peace

In my slow descent

My slow descent

Just rest and wake up new

I

July 24, 2014 § Leave a comment

Am I too cold, for protecting

The remnants of a broken heart?

Can you understand a distance

Is the only defense I know?

Am I too scared, for deflecting

The possible course of a start?

Can you understand persistence

Is only a pretense before I go?

I want to be daring

I want to be bold

I want to learn to grow

I want to face the ugly truth

Deep within us both

Something tells me so

I used to be daring

I used to be bold

But he stunted my growth

When lies were mistaken for truth

A war between us both

Gravely told you so

Do not misunderstand honesty

With intentional cruelty

I’m starting to see

We plan no harm

Just a little charm

To pass the time

And it’s perfect to me

Just what I need

I don’t ask for much

I won’t beg for more

And when it comes to a close

When you’re too tired to feel

I’ll walk away much more healed

A decade

January 11, 2014 § Leave a comment

there was a strange
sense of comfort
in facing you
like a little palm
content in its
essence as
part of a pair
and
in knowing
someone
–could come to
know me
so well:
by the tones
and pauses
of my voice
–could soothe
the coarseness
of my despair
–could lift
the sad corners
of my soul
–could revive
the depths of
my death

it is strange now:
a homesickness
a partial life
a waning empty
a wasting lonely
a reflectionless solitude

we walked away from a decade
a decade, my love,
for strangers…
strangers that smelled
like floral perfume
and depended on filters
to feign beauty
insecure strangers
who had not the time
nor the patience
to cultivate
trust and understanding.

And I know I could hear it
in your inconsistent breathing
The same question
stifling under the crushing pressure
“Was it worth it?”

dirty, dirty love

June 29, 2013 § Leave a comment

i want to destroy you
but i can’t decide if
i should let you know it
or surprise you at the end
what would hurt the most?
because i want your angry ghost
upon me until the end of time

i want to twist a spike
through that bloodthirsty heart
you cover up with a golden pocket piece
as if you already know my next move
is it so easily displayed with my turning away?
because if i am like a book to you
i’d rather break my spine to keep you
from turning the pages

i want to feel the thrust of your tongue
the last breath from each lung
before your beautiful paralysis
clutches onto mine with a vengence
our bones locked, liquid kiss
until you believe this is
what it truly means to
come, come, come
home

i want to stand up afterwards
like a cold tombstone
and watch your gravehound eyes
tremble at the dawn
the moon holding the last of
the closeness we shared
already risen over a new love

i want to withhold the full capacity
of the passion i have to give
and remind you of my tenacity
to kill what i cannot outlive

i want to annihilate
any future possibility
of another feeling inside
you be side
animosity

i want to ask with a sharp edge
what your inflection does
accuse
but most of all,
i want you to love me
the way i loved you
with that dirty
dirty
love

Gatsby and I

May 20, 2013 § Leave a comment

Gatsby and I
were too naive
for love

Nay, love
in its dream form
cannot ever
satisfy the dreamer’s
heart which shatters
at the slightest
crack

Nay, love
in its dream form
is a cruel misnomer
that twists our hands
up to our necks
until we cannot
see nor breathe

Pray, love
in its dream form
is an enchanting
dose of vitality
A scooping off
feet as all reality
gets pulled with
the undertow
of the most
exhilarating
sea journey
where we learn
to breathe
without air
and take in
the wonders
of the underworld–
the treasures
too many are
blind to see
as our inner light
illuminates
our odyssey
Hopeless and Hopeful
our delightful irony

Say, love
what could that be
but a burdening
fallacy
a fantasy
as we live
every day
for the phantoms
of the night

Say, love
is for puppets
with little strings
that delight with
the tugging that
rules every
step and stretch

Indeed, love
is a stretch
a tedious reach
for the ones
that can afford
such a thing
A true exercise
in the limits
of sanity

And perhaps
you can fault
us two, for
the grandness
of our greatest
ideals
that at a glance
all but us
can see
as a worthless
pursuit
But to us,
it was
propelling
gravity
that gave us
our endless
solidarity

Say, love
is dependence
and we stand
among the remnants
of our foolish
lovers
who turned away
waiting for their broom
to sweep up the pieces
But they are selfish
little artifacts
that travel
from hand to hand
gaining value
undeservedly
when truly
they are broken,
worthless talk
pieces sitting
in a rich man’s
living room

Though Gatsby
saw his end
without actual
reckoning
of the
real nature
of his
vapid
hollow
dream
-A muse-
the loveliest
and treacherous
of all dreams–
I can still
stand behind
the beauty
of too naive
a heart
and the
commendable
side effects
of such a
haunting

Gatsby and I
empty to some
begging for
sustenance
were full of
the bravery
too many
never know
in a lifetime
Surely it will
go without
medals or
triumph
But let it
be known
in our
redemption
Naivety
is the absence
of artificiality
an individuality
that was too easily
killed in you

The Pinnacle

May 15, 2013 § Leave a comment

It used to be like a dream
incapable of separating self
from everything
and the images projecting
on the torn screen
kept begging to become
symmetrical actuality

The parallel grace of two
Equally mesmerized by you
without any ounce of truth
or attribute of virtue
Surely, with time,
was bound to nurture
endless torture

But at the pinnacle
the hero crumbled
under the weight
of the pillars
-rightly so-

And
I could paint you into
any tragedy
for my hand crafted
your quality
But you are nothing
but a relic
From an anthology
of well kept secrets

And
I can see my flaw
Of being too kind to you
and not enough to me
So that if in any dimension
you would come to me
Nothing could ever replace
flashes of vision
and the first impression

But
You forget too easy
and count me a weakling
for swaying to your command
so that you do not see the change
from sweetness and innocence
to cruel empty bitterness

The perpendicular animosity of three
Some kind of nightmarish parody
Neither believing another entirely
But whether you do
or whether you don’t
I have returned to myself
perfectly

Let’s dig

May 13, 2013 § Leave a comment

we will collide
you and I
empty our insides,
unravel & entwine
our entrails
as one
and share
the same bile

we will claw
our way through
each others
ribcage
& take hostage
that hollow
muscle
& pump for
each others
sake

we will glare
with such
sharpness
that cuts through
any pretense
of passive
gentleness

we will tear
the threads to
get to the core
of our lust
and, after
sufficient
rapture,
spontaneously
combust

we will occupy
thoughts & dreams
and replace
the quiet calm
with restlessness
and our defenseless
senses will be taken
breathless

we will lie
within our
outlines
crushed into
the cement
with chalk
and when
it’s washed
away,
we will either
love & live
or
love & die–
let’s dig.