When no one is around youLook, I'm going to start saying your name like a swear word, okay? I'm going to muster all my little kiddedness and scream it like I can offend someone, see.
I'm just going to say it at inopportune moments, and clasp both of my hands over my mouth when I say it in front of the wrong people.
I'm not going to say it like a magic word anymore, I'm not going to say it like it invokes enough happiness in a papercup that I can swallow down and easily discard of the carrier. Crush.
Well then. I'm just lying arent I?
I'm not going to say your name at all anymore; I leave it up to the screams.
running through the messesyou trick your mind,running through the messes7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you forget all the impulses,
you silence the routines and fractures of memories isolating your every moment.
you take a long cold drink.
you rest your head against the wall for some stability.
you let your mind drain out the sludge you keep there rotting.
you stop the motions,
you stop them just before they start,
you volley your thought processes into another direction.
you loosen your grip,
you let it take hold of you for just a second,
you allow yourself to give in to the screaming and all of the rushing voices.
you do this
you do this so you can
you do this so you can just go on.
golden cageThis day: today. Is any other day, all days.golden cage7 years ago in Philosophical More Like This
Tomorrow, yesterday. Everything in one, nothing in it all.
You take a bit of black, and with every brushstroke you shade hurt
and pain and suffering; all the cliches that only we, us, you, me, ever feel
for the first time, every time. Exactly how each generation creates sex.
No one wants to believe in ultimate nothingness, not even the depressed little ones with their drunken fist shaking at night skys.
Even when convincing yourself to believe that there is only void, null, empty black holes and vacuums full of minus; some stagnance remains - human hope.
Which is just another term for human frailty. A Christian is just the same as any other believer, non-believer. Hopeful. That's what it is, right? Hope for things to change, to 'get better', renewal, rejuvenation, a little present for a performing monkey.
It's only us that feels this love, that love, when he have it, had it, when we remember. It's only us; which is true enough, everything is
thenbefore i met you, there was god. yes in a stereotypical Christian way, with blonde pig tails and hooker hips. the way you loved it really.then7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
see, thats what you read, what i wrote, what i thought you would laugh at when you read it, and how much of a little child i really was at thirteen.
im not so sure if you did laugh, you never told me. but you read it all. perhaps, you know, if you had soaked any of it up, i couldve asked you for dissection, plastic gloves twanging and delving deep deep into my psychosis.
but you only laughed when you saw i was laughing at your jokes.
driving past old dusty thoughts.
(last time i went there i drove past that place, you know, all detached like, in a taxi no less, like detached, which means pretensions of laughter trying to hide the choking just waiting to be let out in my throat)
there were places you gave me your love, lovely packaged and screaming.
perhaps holding my hand was always just the first shot to getting (a)head.
you know, right there
say cheeseHow can you manufacture emotion?say cheese7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Such a bold statement. Look capital letter. Punctuation.
Must be true.
[i smile everyday for you, it kills me, every day, just a little bit more of me, falls to the floor, and i step on it]
lappedi want to be sp i ltlapped7 years ago in Typographical More Like This
white bl ms of cream ing
i want to be spilt all over
all over [the floor]
[all over you]
...would you cry over me?
culta cloud of lemon haze sprays out from your gazecult7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
[i know i shouldnt squeeze you so tight]
45 ways to shine
ways to die
underlined and exclamation pointed,
[stop telling me what to think]
this is the penultimate song
second to last scene in the play
[i never listened when you told me]
how i loved her.
your body. is just that. yoursDarling, I'm thinking dangerous thoughts again.your body. is just that. yours7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She licked her lips as a prelude, but it wasn't an opening act I was going to allow myself to be cast as co-lead.
You walk. You watch out for all the girls, you look at their legs. See how far apart their thighs are from each other... See if you can guess if they're virgins or not. Like how they used to make you walk.
See me, I think it's painted on your face. Your eyes, perhaps. Not how far apart things are as you stride. I can never tell with the walking. (But why were they laughing at me?)
I keep catching myself in reflections; wonder if you can tell.
And why didn't you ever open up to me fully? Even as I was melting under a cacophony of my own tears and shaking frozen in your lap. You stayed silent mouthed and stared straight out onto train tracks.
I wish I knew what you were thinking then.
My train came. I sat sedated on the bottom level staring at you; my eyes hot, your eyes cold.
Sometimes there can be more distan
vacillateim just here,vacillate7 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
placidly skimming the tips of my toes in circular directions on your chest.
absent mindedly stringing myself up as drying pearls that you
possibly. well it was never going to be a question of never
but a question of when.
[dont ever sing it to me]
dont you sing it to me
but you sang it to me.
fingers on lips, then sticky taped lips down, then electric tape,
then it was just another voice beating on inside of me.
(i wont ever let me say it)
sometimes maybe, perhaps,
i wish it were more...
basis for complaint is compliance
how long? and what else did you lose in the tumble?
my stones are nearly smooth, they are just slightly cracked, waning, my stones are nearly smooth, give me a little time.
skin on skin, devoid reflection in your glass beads of breaking
innocence, it was never with an act, it was with a betrayal,
jump how high
swim how long
say what now when.
a caricature of myself at your feet and begging.
vacillate obligatory responses. tenderness is bottl
becoming y.I was brought up well.becoming y.7 years ago in Transgressive More Like This
My mother taught me to feel guilty about everything.
And of all the boys that ever flailed their cocks at me like I owed them that kind of therapy, you were the only one that made me feel like a fucking whore.
but i want to go back to there, to then, to that time. not now. not here. not this.
this is shit.
i am in read-only mode.
give me some hope for other people
i'll sleep when the room stops spinning, when the thoughts stop coming
got none left for me
i try to make as little noise as i can. in whatever i do.
i smile at little kids. they tend to smile back.
it's like infiltration, a pretty package, with a lot of bastards at the ready on the inside.
coax, lie, debilitate with kisses. be pliant when in first rhythms, then never change, then only ever force change
you lied first. you lied so many times, that there are whole periods that i can't reconcile
in my mind with reality. its all a bit incongruous.
then you, you say, stop dwelling on the pas
batteries unincludedyou are an hourbatteries unincluded7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sixty minutes of sixty tickings
in this hour is every word
youve ever said
i have an old wrist watch my father gave me
i say old, because five years is a long time when it is a quart of your life.
i use it to count you.
staring at the straight lines and reflecting the tubed light into a dancing circle on the wall
a spotlight for an ant
i imagine a woven straw hat and cane
there was always dancing wasnt there?
there was, but it was never us that were dancing. its just a configuration.
you know, of talk.
something we forgot all about.
perhaps it wasnt forgetfulness but forced ignorance.
you know, being stubborn, like stains you can never get out in the morning.
pur-pose-spectivelycordially i take the knifepur-pose-spectively7 years ago in Surrealism More Like This
gingerly i take the knife
expectantly i take the knife
of course i dont take the knife
of all the discerning voices, yours held more like the metronome you are
pulsing me to chime in rhythm with your back and forward sway and stop
i seem to think i have rsi, or a split personality with an afflicted wrist,
mayhap only just a spider bite i cant quite locate
taken, pity with an eye sore, taken slowly with a glass of milk
rumbled sugar in an empty place, with an 11:11
oh no shit.
hidden behind teeth is an itching to say away
i shall take you to the twilight place, where my bloodied dress and your creeping tendrils
wouldnt want to say goodnight, sleep tight, dont let yourself get pregnant.
thats not what i meant at all
bash it atop the head.
scatter heart strings
along a line of melody humming on your little comb betweeeeen
go between me and me and me and me
a multiplicity of facets
turn them all off
dont waste a little
i love the way i say ithow come perfection could be the smile of apology you made when you were always latei love the way i say it7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
how come perfection could be
velocity isnt lost each time
the bounce has changed
there arent enough sides inside
my skull to play any
two taughtYou were me in my dream. I watched you placate myself with nervous flickings of my fringe behind my ears. Smoke curled around my splutterings as you habitually inhaled, forgetting it wasnt your body; those werent your lungs.two taught6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I tried to warn you before you looked into my satchel; you made me take out a handful of balled up tissues, bunches of forgotten receipts and a half empty notepad, with some useless words scrawled joylessly across the half full. No pen.
Curses started to back flip continuously out of my mouth, words you had always said, and I had never wanted to. I tried to tell you that I didnt mean what I was sayingbut stopped shortrealising.
I wanted to know why you felt the need to. But I knew, because you were me, and I was you, so I had toright?
In my dream I was you. Your fingers, your hands; I traced your right forefinger around the loop on your left thumb. Followed the spindly branches of your life line, resting on your luck lines and sl
Ahh...fingertip to fingertipAhh...7 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
in essences of whispers
fingertip to fingertip
wrist to wrist
bound and bidden
fingertip to fingertip
surrender your sighs
i shall release mine
like ghosts of ever
mists of release
fingertip to fingertip
surrounded and ignored
these unseen forces
are your feet
are my feet
and opposite polarities
finger tip to fingertip
surrounded and ignored.
dontophiliaShe loves the way they feel on her fingersdontophilia5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
as she rubs them back and forth.
The pressure, the roughness,
it felt much like relief.
But oh, when he used his
how it made her shiver.
The girlYou're not so tough, I think looking her over. She stood there in her black band tee and cons, looking like she could kick someone's ass if they dared talk to her. She was smaller than me, but I didn't doubt that she could take me down. I started to walk towards her, intending to take the risk. Just as I got close she pulled a paperback from her back pocket and started thumbing through it. I decided that was a sign she didn't want company so I continued to walk around her. When I got to the kitchen I cursed myself for being such a coward. I poured myself a mix of sodas adding a splash of alcohol. I stood for a minute, trying to decide what to do next. I wasn't the most social person, and parties always made me awkward. I only came because my friend begged me to come, and since it was her birthday, I didn't feel like I could refuse. Lost in thought, I didn't notice whThe girl5 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Introverted AffairShe was a sexual anorexicIntroverted Affair5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
and he suffered from diffidence
They would meet in the middle (briefly)
but always continued in opposite directions
Their circles kept them from stranger status,
no one else knew how much they were like perfection
Bite MeBitten candy hearts,Bite Me6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
reminders of you
sour undertones to a sweet (broken) promise
Sugar rotting my teeth to match
the (empty) cavity you left in my chest
god and bluffingSometimes late at night God would sneak in my room through my window to play poker. I'd hear a tap and then him crawl in without waiting for me to open it.god and bluffing7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I think he is drunk most of the time by the way he slurs his words.
I'm sitting on the floor, a deck of cars sitting in front of me and him standing in front of those, staring at me. Grinning.
"Hey, if you win this first hand I'll totally end world hunger." he says.
The way he says world hunger, it sounds like "whirlunger".
I shuffle, not really acknowledging him because whenever we do make these bets he never keeps his end of the bargain.
He stares at me.
"Yeah, sure," I say, "Whatever."
He grins again and plops himself down on the floor.
I deal the cards. One for him, one for me, one for him, one for me. He picks up his cards as I deal them. His eyes never give a hint as to what his hand is.
And I was never good at bluffing.
His eyes find mine and he picks two cards o
Mass TransferYour breath on the back of my neck is so close it could destroy me.Mass Transfer7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
I dated this guy,
This man-child who fancied himself a scientist:
He showed me the way the world is controlled by space.
Not the sparkle of celestial splendor, but the empty distance
Between two points; the closer particles are, the stronger
The object they create. Stretching the distance can turn solid stone
To sand and water. Compacted carbon becomes diamond;
Something black and dirty becomes hard and pure.
And no matter how I loved him, or he loved me--
Regardless of how tightly he pulled me to him--
His proximity could never make me strong.
Six years of distance and I was dissolving. Now you're close,
Closer, closing in around me, like your solid sinewed arms
Warm with life. They still dance on the edge of my memories
Like agitated visual receptors, traumatized optic nerves:
You've got me seeing stars. And as you inch ever closer
I feel my strength return; you're so close I feel part of myself
Pulling away, straini
Ghost writerShe was losing her voice.Ghost writer7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Her life was a run-on sentence, breathless,
Careening double entendres and mindless babble
Interspersed with clever turns of phrase.
He was the punctuation in her autobiography.
Staccato strokes in bold ink; in the simplest of terms
He showed her when to pause, when to question
And taught her to exclaim.
The tangle of words unraveled, thoughts she never knew
Fell into place. And with every breath came realization--
The beauty of craftsmanship she'd never seen.
He'd known it all along.
For the first time she stopped, and finally understood herself.
Vulcanim stuck in hyperrealityVulcan7 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
i need something
someone to make me feel less real
so i can balance it all
equalise it all out
be 'real', 'again'
my dreams scream more real now
more real than sunshine.
The sun jacks off on me, steady streams of pearls illuminating themselves with bursts of heat all on my skin.
Exclamations and inlets and outlets of breath are all mine: rape me like rape. The sun is raping me whenever I open my door.
I crawl over cement in boots fast scraping. A stranger sense of motion in hurried languor. Trees beckon young tendrils like fingertips edging closer in, little green cells bleeding sugars for me to just come a bit... I snap their fingers with my fingers and wonder at how I can just kill so flippantly; what differs me from any other murderer?
It's the tattoos isn't it?
I trip incessantly, and yet I never fall, well, fall for too long (or is it just that it never ever stops?).
The phone's ringing and I'm slightly confused at what to do. It's a distraction, I've mome
i have nothing left to givewhen you saidi have nothing left to give7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
a diamond is forever
i think about our
cubic zirconian love
if that makes our
filled with drunk kisses,
and pay-per-view sunsets
You Weren't Just The CherryI was fineYou Weren't Just The Cherry7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
until I looked behind
I found you.
pictures & notes
and the songs
flooding my brain.
an addict is always
an addict they say
and even though
I'm not quite sure
if love works the same way,
I'm afraid this may never stop.
I can talk about you
(I'm the master of down-sizing)
and usually I can even think about you;
a passing thought, shrugged off.
I can't look at you,
or sing our songs,
or read about the things
I loved you so much for.
I can only hope
how much you held me together.