Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Torak Oct 2015
A soliloquy
scribbled along the margins
of an expired receipt
the iron in our diet
substantiates our sense of humor
because gray and grayer
are two areas we've lived in all of our lives
the city never sleeps
and the streets
it's corroded veins
tainted with drugs
and the people that sell them
we are one and the same
in the deaf eyes of the moon
because excuses fall short
and actions make all of the difference.
Torak Sep 2015
I’ve spent so many nights awake
driven by illusive insomnia
speaking to the moon
about his drinking problem
he’s convinced there isn’t one
habitual enthusiast
he calls it
he can’t say it without smiling
he talks about the sun
the way children speak about summer
midwinter
with bloodshot eyes
and a crooked grin
he plays the oceans tides like a piano
another ballad
unheard
he continues playing
long after I’ve fallen asleep
drinking down his pride
he reminds himself
drinks are on me tomorrow night.
Torak Sep 2015
I’m back here again
at the same keyboard
tapping the same rhythmic keys
playing the music of the memories
I’ve been trying so hard to mute
the words are as reluctant as ever
my tongue trips on itself
catapulting itself into a house built on stilts
so while some stand tall
not all stand strong
be reminded
loneliness is a cruel mistress
with a codependency issue
and the impulsivity in the handwriting
begs for a silence
that speaks louder
than this letter ever could
so I stopped the run on sentences
stopped the paragraphs
burnt every last letter
and started a new story.
Torak Sep 2015
Flesh and blood
everything noxious with the universe
the swaying is nauseating
the praying
infrequent
adaptable as long as the provisions
are profitable
we have a harder time identifying ourselves
in a crowd
than anybody else
and the drugs and alcohol
will drain us of morality and as the
corpses we are
****** to walk
we're selfish
and poetic
and with that
we exhale &
***** our previous selves;
the version the history books
forgot to mention.
Torak Aug 2015
You are still outside
of the roadside convenience stand
offering apathy
for a price
the tag for clearing bad memories
can be considered expensive
smearing everything in view
the confusion is
narcotic
getting hooked is like fishing down
at the pier
the pier you have thought of
throwing yourself over
time and time again
the clockwork is a revolving temptation
that reminds you
your days are numbered
and you’re not very good at math
so dig the change out of your pockets
scavenging for a fix
throw away the receipt
and pick up your feet because
“I’m giving up” isn’t worth it’s 4 syllables
so sell it
and purchase
“I’m not done yet.”
Torak Aug 2015
I've been hiding
behind my shadow
convinced growing up
is just another thing I am
not particularly suited for
responsibility is a lesson
I don’t have the patience to learn
I've been skipping
every assignment handed my way
rolling joints with the eviction notices
and getting high on the worries
blistered on a child of the streets
fingertips;
fingertips that learned to hold onto
objects
tighter than anything that is alive
breathing is an apology you eventually
pay for with your life
so knock a button off your collar
and smoke this with me
as time passes us by
like another bullet that
hasn't hit us
yet.
Torak Jun 2015
Found on the corner of apathy
and apologizing
These bruises on my knees from tripping one
too many times
a gunshot in an empty room
the real question is would you hear it anyway
like a birthday card in a foreign language not worth deciphering
rosetta stone, I’ve been inhaling every past regret in
and effort to remember where it all went wrong
there are no dice in this monopoly game
stuck in the same spot, too many years to count
I wonder if people hang themselves
because they have nowhere else to go but up
the funeral soliloquy is sung by the choir
of the church of the ******
tell me how many times you’ve sung along to the chorus
the clock has been developing arthritis ever since you’ve left
he’s unable to paint a future for me anymore without you in it
ostracized from all forms of affection
breeding the pitiful dull echo of a voicemail
bouncing around the cave walls of my heart
I’ve been searching with blind eyes
and reciting your laughter to a room full of deaf people
both are just as redundant
and have left me with that much more.
Next page