i've been through nuclear winter
wishing to vanish, believe me -
wanting to let it consume me -
and no one suspected a thing
i've stifled every bone tremor
and denied every visitor
for nothing. a slow kind of death
with lucky days sewn into it
fragments of time are dissolving
every hour inside my head
leaving only outlines in dust
leaving all the damages done
the evil's been born already
across cold water, luminous
all of its wounds on the surface
all of its scars in their glory
Dec 12, 2020
Dec 12, 2020 at 8:55 PM UTC
eyes red and dry like i've been crying
and hands reaching out to the hiding dangers
with careful steps so as not to wake up
my exhausted twin guardian angels
the devil's right hand clings to my belt
the sun sets so late in the summer
when the time is right and the sunset's nigh
give the dust i'll turn into back to no man's land
for now i crawl aimlessly on a floor like a desert
tenderly gripping the devil's hand
Jul 25, 2020
Jul 25, 2020 at 7:00 AM UTC
you have to
listen more than you speak
read more than you write
cook more than you eat
seek more than you find
act more than you sleep
practice more than you preach
sow more than you reap
stain more than you bleach
Jul 13, 2019
Jul 13, 2019 at 11:12 AM UTC
people roll around in trash
in greasy wrappers
and tangerine peels
they mosh and jump
in an endless garbage mass
a shard of broken glass
in their ash-filled air-pump
but they never for a second
struggle to breathe
it's one big waste bin
cardboard boxes collapse
metal cuts through skin
plastic sticks to the wound
glass is cold and sharp
the people, seemingly doomed
exist and pass energy around
with a loud spirited sound
people roll around in dirt
and when they're done
they go, they come back home
with specks of wind
whirring in their ears
stirring the desires
of their blood-pumping vessels
silver string in their hair
turns out to be wire
sweaty, red foreheads
with earth smeared all over
clothes green from grass
and greener from clover
people roll around in trash
people roll around in dirt
and so do i, don't you see
the obvious stains on my shirt?
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 9:27 AM UTC
it's my last day being seventeen
and what i want to do is scream
howl menacingly into the void
and i want to stop pretending
i'm anything close to humanoid
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 1:44 PM UTC
may your graves stay open
without you arising
proud and solemn
like lost children
burning cigarettes
for the fallen
eternal orchestras
will play you melodies
as heavy as boulders
and lost children
will carry the world
upon their shoulders
now your graves will enchant
stray cats and wild vultures
guiding their way
if lost children
call out to you
don't lead them astray
let sleeping bones lie still
underneath weeds and grass
but never closed
so lost children
see an example
that's overexposed
i'm the biggest raven
beaking at the cracks of
your iron grave
so come on, haunt
so come on, take
whatever you crave
May 14, 2019
May 14, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
i want to fall for the enemy
and feel their rough fingers
trace the rough scar tissue
of my cheek
i want to fall with the enemy
in love, together
so that neither of us
will know how to deal
with feeling (for once)
so painfully real
i want to bask in my audacity
to fall in love with the enemy
have mud on my ragged clothing
have mud and have self-loathing
and have the enemy
and have my enemy
craving my breath
on their enemy neck again
i want to fall in love
and have to be apart
and have to reunite
and have to conquer
i want to bite
kick throw punch push away
the ones who say
"you should not fall in love
with the enemy"
but it cannot be
and it won't be
this easy and nice
so now, the enemy leaves
and with me, there stands
the enemy's last hope - crushed
red love lingers on my hands
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 12:49 PM UTC
please shut up about the moon
why won't you leave her alone?
she's busy casting silver glow
from her starry night of a throne
and weeping after you stuck
your disgusting little flag
into her skin all those years back
Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 8:42 AM UTC
various lovers stood
at my doorstep in pure wrath
like red clover mites,
embers, hurdles in my path
neglecting them, i drive
through such a familiar route
i pick up the one i love,
need, can't live without:
earl grey tea.
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 2:37 PM UTC
eyes that stargaze
and eyes that hold stars.
tangled fingers and fireworks.
moments: stained with ash,
drained of color, full of passion,
eyes on a starless night.
love to showcase
and hold on display.
being apart for the whole day.
wrists: stained with pink ink,
full of bones and full of vessels,
those boastful hands, linked.
heart that shudders
as if it was cold.
listening to each other's pulse.
skies: stained with rainclouds,
gloomy, grim, and full of answers.
liminal space delight.
light that flickers
long after earth caves.
shunned and disowned,
dimmed, but still here.
eyelids: half-raised now,
ridden of doubt, sure and rhythmic,
divine mystery eyes.
Apr 23, 2019
Apr 23, 2019 at 4:44 PM UTC