"asphyxiates" poems
*Maybe I'm too fat
Maybe I eat like a man
Maybe I've got no poise
Maybe I'm too loquacious
Maybe I...*
Honestly, I know.
**I know my tongue slashes throats and
My eyes asphyxiates.
I know my personality is too strong for a little person
That I amaze and scare at the same time.
I know I'm a strong lady- too strong for you to handle.**
**That's why I have been able to stand up from where you pushed me.
That's why I am able to think of myself.
That's why I am not blaming love but the person in love.**
Honestly, I know
That you can't take the blades of my tongue
Honestly, I know
That you can't say I'm beautiful
Honestly, I know
That you do not love me like how I love you
Honestly, I know
That you are selfish
Honestly, I know
That I am now seeing truth
After all these weeks of crying my eyes out,
I'm back.
because honestly i know
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
Malignant, an echo of
calamity
penetrates the aura
of American freedom
as humanity
asphyxiates
an arsenal
of political fascism
shape shifting
into beads
branded by mercury
abomination
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 6:26 AM UTC
There are loves that can create a new universe, there are
loves that would fill outer space
where stars are just drops of mango juice
and every person you wish wrote poems about you, does.
A macrocosm so vast that
tragedy is only powder and cold coffee does not break
my heart anymore, sadness does not fit in
an oven but float, phantom-esque, in black air
no longer pollution
that slowly asphyxiates, hardly discernible in our palms of
tangible love. You will not have to tell anyone that you
love me because the whole world is our bedroom.
I felt I was dangerous the first time
you tried to **** me, like I would be too tight
and shatter every last porcelain bone under your skin.
Like my body was a vacuum ******* you in
unable to escape, inland something other than a stranger.
Instead, we became the cosmos
pouring fruit-juice-stars on the unlucky and the unloved.
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 3:27 PM UTC
I watch in retort
as you blunder
over causeways
of stammering lies,
hurtling weathered blows
from your
mournfully
tarnished
mouth.
The sound alone
asphyxiates me
and I would rather it hurry
than disable my
regal silence
with the screeching noise
of your
thunderously
garbled
deception.
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 7:46 PM UTC
Can you capture me, body?
Because you know how a candle burns,
but not how one burns within me
Thought is not by you,
but above you
Body, can you see what I see?
You see yourself in pictures,
but life is a movie
The body feels the moment,
but the mind is the movement
Do you rule me, body?
I am mine 'till I die,
but if my mind asphyxiates
Who am I?
The soul is the centrifuge of
Mind and body
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 1:45 PM UTC
12:45
The sun has gone black,
the world is asleep.
In the family room,
the television clicks on by itself.
It illuminates my father,
half-naked,
covered in processed cheese dust.
The channel changes to Cinemax,
******** ***********
My mother walks in
without her glasses,
and for a moment
her screams of disgust
are indistinguishable
from the throes of passion
broadcast on the cheap
Acer dad bought at Costco.
Elsewhere,
in South America,
a volcano has erupted.
It sprays debris
and detritus
over a small village
with a long name.
Postmodern Vesuvians **** ash,
frozen not with fear
but rigor mortis.
The CNN report plays for three hours.
The world moves on.
Later,
a man explodes in a convenience store.
Guts rocket outward,
onto wine coolers
and travel packages of Chex,
and the clerk just shrugs.
If you go there today,
all that’s left is the smell of ammonia
and a dark stain on the ceiling.
At the same moment,
a toddler steps off a cliff,
spiraling into the abyss,
but never stops falling.
He’s been going for days,
months,
years.
He has kept his audience updated
through a Bluetooth that we tossed down after him.
He’s had windburn since he fell,
but the ointment we sent
hasn’t reached him yet.
His parents are now expecting.
He just yawns.
In my family room,
the woman on Cinemax is climaxing,
screaming,
pulling her hair out
while a greased-up middle aged
pizza deliveryman autoerotically asphyxiates
himself with a hair tie.
As she wails for the last time,
the TV screen shatters,
glass ejected,
blazing through the air
like Flight 93
seconds before impact.
Sparks salivate from the exposed wires,
then cackle down
into a signed black.
And as this happens,
the children on Exeter St
stop crying.
The alcohol in a small town liquor store in Wyoming
un-ferments,
and the world, for a moment,
ceases to turn.
But only for a blink.
Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 2:02 PM UTC
the fragments from your thoughts
dissolve into my numb limbs
wondering eye sockets shock skin and metal bones
as if to display the ever-growing feeling
of melancholy
the frozen voice of apocalypse chants
to my garden stone heart
a tiny glimpse into the void of yesterday
surrounding images of sounds and mescaline
being
drowned by smaller devils
ice-cold fingertips wash my face with delight
the over-turning silence tied
my fast paced tongue
dry salty smoke air
into that bell of mourning after
good-byes
the mutated shape of my heart
descending into your
vast and diluted throat
a violence that slowly asphyxiates the life out of
a part of me already gone
the distancing shadows
the murderer’s weapon soaked with *****
*****
images of pale dissatisfaction
the digestion of hello and
strange eyes bellowing across the floor
dragging in its carcass
the days of fresh blood
and stale conversations dreaming
awake
dirt tongues
fabric visions repeated on patterns
tv listings
exits painted over
walk-in closets regards left
on the table
un-opened
coming back
again
to the same house
and
closing your eyes
emptying the lies left across my face
(here)
it’s not your fault
too many scars
while listening
nothing is coming out of your mouth
(I am your body
crippled
ill tempered
disgusting
disfigured
and confused
by ugly lights)
for good
Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 1:07 PM UTC
Familiarity asphyxiates my plastic throat
Unhinged voices draining
My spine has dried the raindrops bare
Metal clouds duress the wind
Splashing in shadows of disappointments
Turning inside out with bleeding sunshine
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 1:59 AM UTC
Cold wind chills running down my spine.
I can't even see a straight line,
I don't know what's left of mine,
When you point finger at me yelling,'' I don't need creature of your kind''.
Your insults i don't mind ,
Yet it feels like a stab from behind
But even if i say i am fine,
It hurts deep inside,
Cause i know i am lying.
Sometimes i think if i was better at dying?
Since i am good at nothing,
I wanna do something,
To make you proud,
But before every new start
All you did was doubt
At me , my effort
And now yours and my definition of life ''Differs''
So i wish you would walk in my shoes
So i could walk on yours.
Oct 12, 2019
Oct 12, 2019 at 6:40 AM UTC
Some like it violent
Insatiable in every sense
Brutal and arousing
Bruises and bitemarks
That draw blood
A delight, red and raw
Teeth marks sinking into flesh
Miss Mass ******
And her new boyfriend
Mister Mysterious
Are in love
Shiny and new
Like the first drop
From a finger pricked
On a cerated knife
But it was too much too soon
Twisted young love asphyxiates
In rooms without privacy
Hitting a new a high
Pointed teeth and fanged smiles
Cigarette drags on moonless nights
*** and death intertwined
There is lust after life
Together forever
Side by side: six feet under
Unnatural and unlawful
It was a night to dismember
A funerary wedding
His and hers in a hearse
Rattling tins and dangling bones
Just married written in a scarlet hue
That is not ink
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 12:58 AM UTC
I can't think of anything to say...
The cliché of an apology, I'm sorry sounds weak and falls flat in the staging area that's my mind.
But saying, "I'm sorry you've felt sadness" feels heavy and thick, even though it may be the truest thing I've ever wanted to say to you, it asphyxiates my decision making skills
So at this point, admitting the truth sounds like a pretty good idea.
Which means I'll admit the fact that I have no idea what to say to you, to your face or your soul.
I have no idea how to fix you, no matter how hard I try
Maybe one day I will
When sadness has hit me the same way it hit you, but for now...
All I can do is give my condolences...until a better more earth shattering explanation for why we've felt sadness has come my way
And I can't give you a date because to give you a date would be to mark an unspeakable day, which will make me able to speak to you
I'd do anything to be able to speak to you again
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
A heavy heart and broken smile is all I have to offer
My weary eyes and sensitive ears hide from the truth
The sweet taste of fear, the putrid scent of peace
The soft touch of hostility, the scandalous sound of grace
My body fails, my head hangs, my tears fall
But this feels much better than stinging words of affirmation
Than piercing mercy
Than murderous love that asphyxiates my cold, bruised, torn heart with no sense of satisfaction
A heavy heart and broken smile is all I have to offer
My weary eyes and sensitive ears hide from the truth
But you embrace me and tell me that I have nothing to fear because you will bring me peace of mind
You refuse my hostility and instead return my tormenting, slanderous words with this foreign concept of grace
You help me up, you lift my chin, you wipe my tears
And I begin to understand why people ask for the stinging words
The piercing mercy
The genuine love that revives my cold, bruised, torn heart with no sense of satisfaction
For you are not satisfied in me, but I in you.
Nov 29, 2016
Nov 29, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
She’s a dark enigma
But only to herself
She shines such a bright light
So kind, forgiving, beautiful
Little does a soul know
She hides so well
An evercarbon fir
She bares nothing
Skin, bone, teeth
So human but so alien
Disassociating
The abyss calls her
Asphyxiates her slowly
Wraps around her mind
Taking her away
She follows the rabbit
Everything is forgotten
A lucid life dream
Everything so tangible
But left behind
Infiltration of the mind
An inward corpse
Walk all over her
Take advantage
Dec 2, 2019
Dec 2, 2019 at 2:35 PM UTC
The Washington Post Asphyxiates Itself
“Democracy Dies in Darkness,” you say –
But your arguments die under your popups, okay?
May 1, 2017
May 1, 2017 at 10:12 PM UTC
'
*You have been much more
to many a progressively
ailing heart,
in the eloquence
of whispered words -
watch them alight on
the pages of a poem.
What in the waving
of waxing thought;
words copiously flow
in the effervescent
glow of lilting rhyme -
solitary images
march the desert storm.
Amnesty provides no relief:
no human deed can make amends,
the speed of apologies fail
to outrun the steam roller
of resolute demeanour.
Once the balm of intimating breath
now asphyxiates tomorrow's hope.
Put forth in plain speech
what now in riddles present
then lay a poignant wreathe upon
this wailing, bardic crypt.
Underneath its gravestone, find
wispy embers of yesterdays
awaiting phoenix wings' climb.
Hence in its turn let generosity provide
this grievous dagger a sheath to hide.*
____ ____ ____ ✒
○●
°
'
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
Shadowy static cracks in my veins and the silence asphyxiates my conscious mind.
My words are futile and thus this is a silent soliloquy of somber anguish.
The silence reverberates off of the empty chambers of my mind, reminding myself of my own inadequacy.
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 10:53 AM UTC
Campfire.
The heat intensifies, growing, inviting, tempting me. The comfort, my safety, the risk, my danger. A temptation to reach out for more warmth, a recognition, that too much of a good thing is perilous.
It sounds like the crackle of earth reborn, again and again. Ever changing form, ever shifting elements.
The bright, bright light uncovering everything, everything encapsulated in ambers, yellows, and a haze of gray.
It smells like a home, not a new home, but my first home, deep in my bones, my ancestors most treasured. A weapon, a tool, a gift, a new beginning, a sudden end.
The smoke, a haze, the smoke asphyxiates, the smoke, a warning, warning of life undone and come anew.
Jan 19, 2018
Jan 19, 2018 at 9:17 AM UTC