#wip
I've painted over this canvas one too many times.
I'm running out of colors, I'm running out of ryhmes.
My brush is losing bristles, my hands are losing faith.
This wooden frame is shattered, splitting at the seams.
I don't know if I'll ever, reframe all my dreams.
In my mind they scatter, haunt me like a wraith.
I've painted over this canvas one too many times.
I'm running out of colors, I'm running out of ryhmes.
The paint layers are cracking, my heart is turned to stone.
That heavy burden peeling, again I'm all alone.
Nov 26, 2023
Nov 26, 2023 at 9:13 PM UTC
It's a tiny life we've been living inside
these spaces that divide Skin from soul.
circles going round lest we're found by the sound
of that which behind these eyes resides
We put up front facades of painted sameness,
Against all those that we perceive as pastel zombie nameless
Living their shuffling lives
But the life I lived was lowlife baseless
All set to die
as just another faceless blameless
victim.
Instead I survived and married my villain.
And now I sit dis-po-ssessed
by the self professed oppressed bohemian minority
Who turnabout cast a majority
not in favour of I
But there's only one room
In this tomb of self doubt
And mediocrity
And now that I'm out
(and you're in, I'm so very sorry)
I can't shake the hypocrisy
of what looks to me
like trading passion for petroleum
Light up the night just to get lit
Talented trash bags
with hearts of cold gold
all that glistens listens
to that party line hold...
hold on a minute
And wait
you know where I'm going with this
don't you?
We're all supposed to be unique yet we're totally not, (etc etc)
Supposed to be punk rock
New romantics
Big disruption,
functionally dysfunctioned
We're supposed to save the world man....
But you can't save the world when you're high.
Don't ask me why.
///
The time for radicalism ends.
When the Left can afford to Eat Right
And stay safe at home all alright
Netflix and chilled, night by night
So what happened for We the Oppressed
to become the best dressed and well fed beatniks
of the high rent low yield metropolitan
inner west
what happened for the people and WE...
to become the people means ME
And our comrade communities only form around hashtagged
anxieties
"But we're baking cupcakes for Cavalcades" (what's that?)
"We're printing posters for protest"
"We're marching upvoting"
We've become our own ironic meme of unrest
While kids way out west are STILL starving
starving for art and starving for change
while we're gorging ourselves on gorgeous insta-facebook-drama and rage
The time for radicalism ends.
When the Left can afford to Eat Right
And stay safe at home all alright
Netflix and chilled, night by night
But we're shocked to the system when the system shocks you
Ignores our protests and our wasted marches
And all that sticky tacky wheat glue we use
So we go back to our therapies
Keep missing the mark on all those "me toos"
Because we keep refusing to choose
to Share joy or share time with anyone
not of our tribe
The time for radicalism ends.
When the Left can afford to Eat Right
And stay safe
at home all alright
Netflix and chilled, night by night
Netflix and chilled, night by night
We've put a black spot in philanthropy's blind eye
Traded parity for house parties
And the pursuit of being cute
before we die.
The time for radicalism ends.
Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 3:41 PM UTC
in the backyard
lighting up a smokescreen
high on all the thoughts
of what once was and could have been
filled to the brim with these emotions
but i don't feel a thing
how tiring it is to always think so much
and still remain the same
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 12:24 AM UTC
concerned for my future, got my mind stuck in the past
barely made it this far as it is how am i honestly expected to last
but i made it, i'm here
no applause, please, no cheers
this isn't quite how i envisioned it
not how i pictured it
still fighting for control of my life despite everything
Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 12:08 AM UTC
One small step for literally ******* anyone else
One large step for you
The depressed
The first real trip you’ve made outside your room in six days
Not really used to how the gravity feels when you’re standing on two feet
The terrain foreign
Things change when you aren’t aware
Surrounded by those spots you see when you go out in the sunshine for the first time in a long time
You can almost pretend they’re stars
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 9:52 PM UTC
I am wilting from the pressure
it's been so long since I felt pleasure
I'm trying to find the positive
to feel the sunshine on my skin
but the storm clouds they won't leave me
there's too much darkness deep within
I never saw myself as a flower
but I can still feel myself wilting
(so it must be true)
Apr 26, 2017
Apr 26, 2017 at 3:24 PM UTC
why cant i forget you
i thought i’d finally put you out of my mind
i don't love you anymore
i wish i could leave your memory behind
i think about you more than i’d like to admit
when will i stop dreaming of you?
will i be homesick forever?
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 5:51 PM UTC
she'd found a reason to keep going
for the meantime anyways
but the months are ticking by
and I think she's lost her way
see, her eyes they've stopped a-sparkling
and her skin is growing pale
she walks around half cloaked in smoke
and reeking of cheap ale
~
she met a boy
who did her wrong
she doesn’t know
how she’ll go on
without him, there’s something lost
but how can you lose what never was?
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 5:57 PM UTC
there's a ghost in the basement
who comes out when it's raining
i don’t know what he wants
but i don’t want him to go
i find comfort in the hauntings
and i hate to admit this
but i think i’m more afraid
of being alone
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 5:14 PM UTC
do you ever get depressed
not knowing what’s coming next
not able to undo the past
despite your efforts the good won’t last
smoking every day making my life hazy
cuffed in place with these chains of daisies
folding playing cards when i didn’t used to
it’s the little things that make me miss you
Dec 14, 2020
Dec 14, 2020 at 6:04 PM UTC
got all these voices in my head
and monsters in my bed
and memories of words and things
i can't recall i said
Dec 9, 2020
Dec 9, 2020 at 11:46 PM UTC
He's there
Reaching that hand out
In disguise of a fellow man
Grabbing you into his world
Shinning that smile
That hides his cynicals
His eyes full of wonder in the person you are
His lies locked behind what seemed to be truth in those gems of irises
Longing in a sickening desire
Love burns you alive from what seeps from him
Painless, numbed by the blindness of love
He holds you like you've never had before
He's there
Glimmering shards of white lights
The pits of fire in those wonderment of eyes
Vemon seep from the tounge.
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 2:20 PM UTC
i am not who you think i am
all you see is
my eyes
my clothes
my jokes
all you see is an outline
a silhouette
of who i am
don't fall in love with a shadow
nothing is there
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 3:05 PM UTC
With each step I take,
I slip further into Earth,
A trench of regrets.
This place is my post,
My never ending routine,
A prison of thoughts.
Cresting waves of guilt,
An endless stream of questions,
A sea of troubles.
Towering mistrust,
Lost amidst my constant worries,
A forest of doubt.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
Longing
Sorrow
Forgiveness
Memories
Regret
Renewal
Momentum
Joy
Calm
Peace
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 2:30 PM UTC
My dad's old friends came round to our apartment sometimes,
would come round for some beer
and a guilty look at my mother’s ***
Today, as usual, she let them track mud through our little house, cackling like hyenas
and pretending to admire the art on our walls.
She let 'em do it but then we all went out on the porch and they started to tell me, as mama looked on with pursed, painted lips,
bout the time my daddy’d -
well i never ever did find out what my daddy'd done
*** that's when she slammed down the case of beer
on the patio table.
All three of them paused to look at her.
It was like she’d turned them all off, with a button that she kept hidden in her *****
for a second they realized how sad she must've been,
they realized he probably shot himself right upstairs
and then they looked at me
like I was a dead little boy
wearing my daddy's eyes.
I missed their merry smiles and table slaps punctuating each joke
wiping the sweat off their foreheads with their wrists and
leaning back in their chairs, flicking their lighters against their cigarettes and
savoring mouthfuls of chewing gum and dip,
'cus now they were still.
“Now don’t go tellin’ tales to John,” she said, and doled out a few drip-cold beers to shut them up.
They washed the stories down with her drink and just forgot about it,
or more likely,
they'd started thinking about that button
burrowed between my mother’s *******
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 9:25 PM UTC
my head emptied
as though bathwater down a drain, and i became simpler:
than the children kicking and screaming and skinning their knees on mulch,
than the cars coming and going and crashing and catching dead bugs in their killer windshields.
suddenly, ripples were spreading gently through the sky
like it was a body of water, being stirred to life by the clouds
like they were the fluffy fingers of a kid poking at his fish bowl,
and i started wondering what a sky even was
and if it could be the ground
if i sought to somehow stand on it.
i sat in the grass, plucked out its longest blades
like i was a brush tearing hair from the scalp of the earth,
started weaving little green bracelets, like I'd done as a boy,
and i did it until the sun had started to go down,
unable to connect the sky’s slow setting
to a passing of time.
May 3, 2018
May 3, 2018 at 4:20 PM UTC
I am Emperor. I am Death.
All ye who challenge my reign over kingdom and kin
know not the true consequence of thy sins.
In flesh, I come bearing bountiful wealth and crown;
alas, in decay, I may claim nothing as my own.
Upon white steed I ride, demanding thy reverence,
for no mortal plea may earn my benevolence.
My castle is made of shattered coffins and bone.
The lives I take are etched upon my throne.
I am balance, bringer of law and order supreme,
yet my presence is sought only in screams.
"Our true end hath come!" my countrymen thunder,
"God, please save us! Death shall tear us asunder!"
Wherefore doth thou cry for a holy savior?
Wherefore doth I warrant such behavior?
I was thy maker, thy just and wise king,
I asked for no riches or engraved rings.
I am Emperor, I am Death, and in the very end,
the only true kingdom is made of dead men.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:05 PM UTC
Welcome to the Brookwood bathroom,
A place of sorrow, a place of gloom.
What happened here will happen again,
Which is why I pen this silent refrain.
Here come the girls who use the mirror,
Which was designed to help you see you clearer.
But with every stroke they distort their faces
'Til all that's left is nameless traces.
And here comes the child who cries herself to sleep,
Though during class her sanity she keeps.
But once her class ends, she rushes to the stall.
The monsters in her head begin their free-for-all.
And here comes the girl with her body a mess.
She tears it up at the slightest sign of stress.
She comes into here to slice up her arm.
One more victim in this war on self-harm.
Here comes the boy who stays after each day.
He thinks by hiding here he can get away.
He knows his parents are fighting at home,
And he's scared his dad won't leave him alone.
And here comes the child who binds their ******* in here.
They live their life cowering in fear.
Feeling like neither a woman nor a man
And lately they've been asking themselves if they can.
And here comes the teacher who's stressed to the max
She feels as though she's bound to collapse.
She chose this job in order to make a difference
But all she's met with is loathing and bitterness.
Now it's time to say goodbye
The transition bell is looming nigh.
Leave behind the wanness and sorrow
And leave me to cope with it all again tomorrow.
Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 1:51 PM UTC