I fantasise about being stapled to the walls of every house I've ever been in
To be glorified iconography
So Jesus crucified could never compare to me.
But I digress and ignore my fantasy
Dig deeper in my denied anxieties
Or at least that how I've been feeling
Taught to believe what my father always told me
"Qui ante dolem plus dolem" scarring my skin.
Reads as follows straight to the core:
"Who suffers before will suffer a lot more"
You see I think that to some I've been just a blur while to others I've been pure life.
I think I'm just a field study for my paternal figure
Too much of a cynical creature too little to inspire.
He thinks he can cheat life by cheating himself but it's all dire
Amy Winehouse knows best she even sang about cheating herself, it's nothing but piling lies onto the fire.
So my father smiles and says I search for disaster, search for situations, imagine doom charging at me faster and faster and faster...
But I interrupt him, I'm rational.
I go in with low expectation so if it turns out for the best I can truly enjoy the consolation and if it turns to be the way I imagined it I can lavish in the universe's approbation.
I say I despise his way of living,
He asks what is there to hate in it.
And i am baffled and injurious behaviour is sparking,
Staggering, stuttering I simply ask how is that he can live so falsely happy so easily, how is it not torturous for further developing.
He says nothing is false, it's all hoping, it's ignoring stress, it's living authentically.
And I think to myself dissapointedly
If only
I was bolted in these walls and didn't have to live, judge or decide.
Just watching cemented in time.

I notice the masked unknown
The year stained disturbances
Some kind of effect I wouldn't know how to call
Guess it's the charms of overly-consumed marriages.
It's the bitter reproaches
And the lowly messages.
It's the awkwardness with which my dad over-explains himself
For simple occurances
Misread instances
I'm sick oh hearing it.
My mother flaunting her insecurities
She capitalises her hold over me.
I'm a trophy, I'm a trophy.
The way the both stare gleefully.
I embody the price to modify genetically
Anger, regret, hate all take corporality.
I'm beaming
The lack of romance I grew up in and my obsession with it developing.
I'm revealing disconnected personalities.
My mother and father might take pride in it,
My bluntness, my unjustified humanity
But sometimes all I see in me
Is family gesturing,
Just mere mimicking.
A real life harlequin.

I miss the Istanbul mists
And Bucharests's dissapointments
I watch the street's misfits,
And measure their arrogances.
****, I'm salivating...
For these sporadic romances.
You see it's raining now and I don't expect abeyances.
Wish the rain would sing me back into sleeping.
Greecian exhalation
And American expectation
I'm living in a fragment.
Illegal teleportation
My withdrawals have become desperation,
No more time to lament.
The scent of international alienation
It aches and it digs
The immortal veneration
Of all these useless schemes.
I exert into mindless illusions
And pray to yield its fruits
But these are altiloquent pretentions
And real life seems so crude.
I become cosmical equation
A simple empyrean constellation
And continue breathing solely in my imagination.

Expect rain when the flies start to sting
So I start to think
About my mom and what she'll say when she sees me smoking
Probably dissapointed, probably failed
That's all I learned from her anyway.
She'll probably say.
"they were better back in my day"
"if you're gonna smoke at least smoke something better"
I've been eyeing her fancy menthols lately, and I'm no quitter.
She'll see my swollen eyes and swallow in a way, so bitter.
I know, I've seen it before, I guess she'll know too, sooner or later.
That I'm just like her and my father.
Glinting failure, so unknowingly human.
I know I've promised many things,
The first was that I'll never smoke, then again, then buy a pack, then care.
But at least they were right about one thing in there.
Never say never, it'll follow you to your grave , there's no point now to dispear,
I'm hungry for more why should I care?
Young and dying alone, what a story to tell!