How will I romance one like me
a creature of distraction
you are perfect for me
both very fucking dangerous
Both intruded for the madness
the madness of inner souls
I would love to love you
but both of us are sold
Our twisted thoughts
our selves deconstruction
if only you saw me fragile
as you are my rose, so red
I love you from afar
never will I talk to you
I will make my next life
collide in eternal love for you
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
I picture your face changing
Screwing up like a piece of crumpled paper
As my fist hits hard into your cheekbone
I listen with delight at your screams
My nails digging into your scalp
As I pull your hairs statistically from their follicles
I laugh as your tears fall upon your cheeks
As I spit my venom into your face
Wiping it disrespectfully over your beauty
I burn you with my words of hatred
Speaking words of anger for affect
And the bitter truth for my amusement
I smile sweetly as I look at you
Listening to your nonsense
Imagining all I want to do
You'll never know what lies behind my eyes
And my smile
I took off my rose colored glasses and put on my clear ones.
I don't like the new look; it doesn't suit me.
I must be lucky.
I have literally avoided every obstacle known at this point.
When's the first one going to hit?
I'm on a winning streak that I'm pretty sure has to end at some point.
They say don't listen to them;
To be your own person and live life to the fullest.
But how can I do that
When I too worried that others will judge me for my
I hate the word shallow.
It's such a hateful and vengeful word.
And the amount of times people have used that word against me is one too many.
I also laugh at people who refer to me as an "open book".
I would love for them to just peek into my mind one day,
And see how 'open' I really am.
I thought I didn't know how to talk?
So I decided to put my rose colored ones back on.
You can say what you want about me,
But I honestly don't care anymore.
You can think what you want about me,
But your hate is useless.
I am, me. And I am thankful for it.
I'm not going to let you drag me down into
your cynical abyss of misery and complaints
just so you can feel better.
I'm above all that now,
I know who I am.
I don't need your approval,
I don't even want it. It makes me sick.
It's a lesson learned in kindergarten so don't act
like I'm doing anything wrong.
I'm living my life,
You've picked out a folio
and wished for your dreams
yet the nib of your pen is lastingly dry,
like yesterdays thirst.
The bridge that spanned
your momentary stride
is someone else's iron cast certainity,
their vibe having read
the better book,
a change challenge
more successfully described
I hear the humming
of your voice
in the darkness
behind my phone's screen
I look occasionally
You mention a city
something like where you were from
I like Greg's status
You blah further about
your parents or something
I text Jerry about a recipe for a good salsa
I begin to talk
To your glowing
This goes on for quite some time
We sit in silence
in the backseat of the cab
I hug her goodnight
and suggest to meet again soon though
I probably won't call her
We had nothing in common
there are glimmers
hidden in life,
like a diamond
in a jar of broken glass,
but you must be willing to bleed
in order to find it.
polka dot pillows in your place
a chair without a frame, bound in frazzled black thread
a sad staple or two on the upper legs
holding together what little there is left
filthy pillows smelling of rancid feet
weeks without showers
podiatry pads littered with cluster warts
and tv dinners
patchwork quilts with no meaning behind their fading pictures
knobs hanging leisurely on the cabinetry
buttons coated in bacteria on the ages old tv
rocking loveseat soothes no one
not even the infancy in me
the disorganized half ass efforts
to write a paper on things i once found interesting
wearing tattered sweatshirt
of a friend i once "wronged"
her fiance forced a slutty facade, some would call rape
bulging black sweatpants from walmart for asinine comfort
worn out sweater socks for the sad circulation flowing awkwardly to my inconsequential toes
vs bra, dd, "sex appeal"
i don't want to fix my hair
or put on euphoria
i don't want to do my makeup like a cat
winged licks to the edges of my eyes
i don't care if my teeth are clean or white or cut
i don't even care that you're not here
or that i'll never let you be
i don't even care that you're sharing your bed and your head and your heart with some
take a few more anti-depressants
a few more to leave around me as i sleep
so my nightmares will be surrounded by numbness
my little hypothalamus knowing they mean nothing
as does the world to me, now
freedom is a double edged, dull knife
poke and poke until the wound festers and i bleed out
to the sound of my own feet fucking dust and losing balance
i don't care that i'm still alive
it's really all such a waste of goddamn time
Well you know that I sip on my sadness, my dear,
Filthy palms, filled to the brim.
And I know that you watch those trains passing by
Dizzy eyed, still drunk with sin.
Your teeth reek of reality lately,
You smile facts, figures and cracked calcium.
Now, once more with cupped hands leaking, shaking
Delirium up to your chin.
Well I know that I’ve missed the point, honey
I should get it tattooed on my wrists,
But you know that you talk like firecrackers
So flinching gets awful hard to resist.
I make believe that I’m right like craters
make moons believe.
So I’ll comment on comets and ignore truths
popping between parentheses.
You say, “It’s fiction we live in
You play in pastels
and fake hollywood rhythms
and I’m tired, staring up at your screen.
You're addicted to this diction
My voice is lost, screaming
these words you keep stealing
and twist for yourself what they mean."
Sometimes we sit soaked to the waist in nothing
Fringe Wolves snarl, drool and moan;
I’m afraid that this desert’s left them starving
They crave marrow within bone.
Dripping teeth, curled clawed toes and howling
I swear they feed every time that we breathe.
With cinderblocks, flashfloods or whirlpools
Just drown us properly.
Well, one day we’ll resurface to find ghosts reborn
from hallowed shells of Fringe Wolves
Who waltz wicked and crooked a foxtrot to show
sometimes loss is beautiful.
And when I ask for your hand you’ll look tragic
like you never saw what I see
When you walk away, I’m toe-tapping
to some song you kept whispering.
You say, “It’s fiction we live in.
It’s intended for men like you,
but you fucking drained out in my palm."
This clothing, from bedpost to box-spring,
It's all wax-coats and smoke screens,
live lit-candle lasting
When did skin begin to fit wrong?
So when they ask for me at the after party
With neon eyes and harlot tongues,
You can tell them I traded this stale air in
For forest fires and tornado lungs.
Cause I’ve been reading up in matchbooks
While you write rules to rationalize.
So feel free to maintain your "real"
but pardon me while I burn mine.
I'll close my eyes
And just drift away.
Maybe sometime soon,
You'll be here to stay.
I know it takes time.
Darling, that's okay.
I'll be by your side.
Just don't fade away.
You're scared, I can see.
Everyone around worries you.
Please realize that there is no need
For you to be afraid of me.
You can take my hand,
I'll show you the way.
I won't misguide you,
Or lead you astray.
I won't hurt you,
Or leave any scars.
You can stay by my side,
Like the moon and the stars.
I won't say that I love you.
For that, it's a bit too soon,
But darling, believe me when I say
That I truly care about you.
I'll open my eyes,
You're not by my side.
I'll just drift back off,
Then I can hide.
question: if we were both here once, what am i now?
moments are like sucking on candies
once it's gone it's gone.
the sweet stays in your mouth & lingers
like a lozenge to numb pain
but once you realize it's gone, it comes back worse.
question: why do we keep trying?
we can be glaciers
we have velocity moving tens of thousands of meters a day.
remember we went to the ocean, raked lace at the fringe of the tide
barely witnessing microscopic vessels breathing in time
the water unusually warm. you left too quickly.
i lick the salt from myself.
i exist best when i keep going rather than being.
but i dwell in the pitch black innards of dreaming...
that dark spot on your back dreaming,
leather seats in your car dreaming,
familiar movements not enough layers this is paradise purple dreaming...
dreaming, why are we so touchable?
you told me the skin is the largest organ of the body & its meant to feel like that.
without it we curl in on ourselves.
smooth gems spill from my mouth
undulations of the ocean roll into and over me
our vague History turns slowly in dilapidated light
whispers of strange solutions last as long
as the thought that the bemusement
and revelation of love
can never be lost.
question: if we were both here once, what am i now?
what of you lingers in me?
why can't i get rid of it?