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 laugh
at all the poets they made us learn about in school
then go home...
and become one myself

My mommy saw death today again,
She sat on the stairs, ciggarete in hand and spewed away,
How her mornings were **** and her cigs don't really hit today.
So I knew it was serious and put on my concerned face, the one she only loves anyway, and I told her not to dismay.
And as I pick at my skin and other ***** insufferences I listen as her voice forces, a sadness as to alarm me this may be concerning.
She says that on her way to work this morning she saw a little old lady in a crane,
This little old lady tripped on straight surface, hit her head so hard, a haematoma bloomed in her brain.
And mom blows the smoke again.
"I heard the sound and the pain in my leg did not matter" she said. "I ran so fast, I was so worried that little old lady cannot die on me".
So she ran and the woman was bleeding, "her mask so ****** she could've choked" as she confirmed, "many passed by as I was trying to lift this lady but none bothered to care"
She said that at once a biker dropped his bike and jumped in to help as they called the ambulance in despair.
Mommy said she asked the lady her name, age and a kid she could contact.
Little old lady was 83 and remembered her boy's number fully.
And so my mommy calls to tell him that his mom's at the emergency and he picked up and said:
"Has a car hit her yet? "

A nail
Has been beaten back into the floor
So I no longer step on it,
When I enter the room,
When i finished my shower
When I just want to stand.
This nail was snow on bare skin
Woke me up every time I stepped on it.
Last night mami terrorised me.
Talking about daddy cheating and her losing my sister if he divorces.
Went to a **** interview for an even shitier job.
Said she'd work from 9 to 4 in the morning and it's the perfect opportunity to get back working,
Packing shippings while standing while she has an engineering degree.
She's funny lately.
I tell her I don't really wanna come home today and she says the same.
Insists on sleeping next to me and asking if I hear the sound of my tears hitting the pillow as if it's ghost.
Lover on the other hand says I'm making it hard for her
"I just feel like by getting close I m pushing you away"
So I will dissappear.
Been saying it for years.
When I was little I dreamed of 18 being brighter than ever.
It was futile like all my hopes as a toddler.
Cursed lips of spoken valor.
6 hours, 6 hours, 6 hours that's how much I'll stay in school today.
Hope I come back to a home emptier than before.
Hope it's just a dream and I'll wake up in May.
Or July.
Or never I don't really have preferences anymore.

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!

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.

While I wait for the water to get warm
I'll write you a verse.
About how love's like a door,
That most definetly should stay closed.
How love is being alive
But how it won't forget.
Come to think of it, maybe love's disguised,
And it's actually death.
How I'm 17500 mosquitos,
And you're all the blood we'd ever dream of
And I'd drink you up until I explode.
How love's a distraction,
And though I haven't met anyone after her,
I'm afraid love might lead to self-destruction.
Like the dead roses in this cola bottle,
Like my lashes batting to avoid another battle
Like how the people leave and let their wind-chimes rattle
Forever.
What's love but irrational?
What's love but conventional?
I'm made to be obsessed with it, why not just take it all?
Mind and body might never slow down.
What's love when you write about two and you're only one?

how may I ever not
sanctify the blood of
woman when it is
the purest form of jubilation
it is life
it is death
it is the catharsis of
crackling generations
of
trillions of souls
so how may I not
sanctify what is most
holy...
what is most splendid
in creation
the blood of woman
moon untainted
ethereal and wild
the blood of woman
may rule on
from the Earth's core
like it did
before.

Well thought out impulsive decisions,
Not wise but planned.
Still impulsive just measured.
My being.
That's all my life has ever been
And the moment I think I know the world.
It turns back and spits on me.
you thought...

Sometimes i stand up and I'm taller than I should be
In the middle of the night, on the wooden floor I feel eyes above me.
I walk around, just a few steps to balance out my shoulders
And when I'm back in the room I'm back to normal.
Sometimes I look at my hands and forget that they're my own.
Sometimes I wake up from nightmares and go back to sleep to test if I still end up there.
Sometimes I step in the shower and forget how to breathe.
Sometimes I drink water and let it pool in my mouth not knowing if I should really swallow it.
To be so alone you start question if you're within yourself.
Am I keeping me good company?
My shoulders and their blades
My hips and their flames
How much is there left of me?

Dusted willow songs
Like elderberry resting in the creases of my lips.
The air in my lungs isn't where it belongs,
It's swirling hellishly around heartbeats.
Jarring how this flora rekindles
My mind at night.
Terrifying how my dependency fires
Rue on and **** on sight.
Gravediggers bury my limbs back into your hair for me to feel,
Real.
This touch like baby's-breath, lingers
And stains.
Oh how I know ill never get it off,
Never wash away the rupture of the sound
Of your voice-I'm jealous of the walls in your house, how they must bathe in joy when you speak.
What they must hear I envy every creak.
I am calm I refuse to drown in this fog
I want to breathe in for once, alive.
Difuse this morning reborn by night
Ground down this head of mine, whimper like a dog...
To time eating me raw, snapping at my ankles, rummaging through all,
Let it last longer
Let it never fall.

I'm not afraid of death
She's scared of me
And people like me who embrace her ever so senselessly.
I'm not afraid of death.
Since we created the concept.
Imbued the notion of a tragic end with a lachrymal consequence.
The idea of death was built with fear written on headstones and synagogues.
Achieved through the exposition of conflicts and wars.
How am I to know that death isn't peaceful?
Painless or not, I am not afraid of death.
For its vague appearance brings itself closer to what makes us human.
For its vigil and oneirical existence is simple and over judged.
I am not afraid of death.
Death is afraid of the people who have yet to see her.

Love interests
Late night writing
So careless
Just filling in.
____
How am I to make out
The difference
Between what I haunt
And what's part of my cohérence.
_____
Am i meant to catch
What I want to hold, love and cherish
And call the fight of three
A death match.
______
Meant to be human
And gain the common sense
Because that is human acceptance,
Except that is not the field I wanna bloom in
______
Boomin
Through time and space
Young and fullfillin
******* in lace.
______
Just another radio blur in blue
An exchanged frozen breath.
I've no clue
How exactly have we met?
______
I'd ask me too
Just not in the mood.
_______
I'd propose the question
Just don't have that kind of patience.