"detonate" poems
where am i?
how am I to write when
I am no different from
those gaseous ephemeral words
who lie prostrate upon
the pages of my dictionary
carved plainly into
those battlefields strewn across
the wartorn country
my heart the despotic dictator
whose primal drumming
carries no tune
and no rhythm
and throws of explosions
grenades that
black out the world for
a brief moment
until it careens back and
slams into me
disorientated
i should have been born twice
for how could i have
both my body and that
intangible inexplicable
something inside
it stirs at the molten core
of me
that chasm that forged
those graven images
that first gave way to
a pictographic language
and offered me
a voice
to explain that immutable
all powerful
urge
lust
to throw myself on that
red button and
detonate
burst into a million pieces
and finally relieve that
nauseating pressure
of adipose smushed between
holy bone and
saintly skin
interloping in that space
and separating two lovers
barriers create madness
walls box me in
and yet i grow
an expanding balloon girl
macy’s day parade and
candy littered streets
and razor sharp edges
to steel walls pressing harder
against me than
my supple skin could
ever possibly press
back
i can’t breathe
there is no room
for my lungs to expand
and feel the
fresh sun filled meadow
of crystal air
delivering oxygen to
starved alveoli
and i can’t find your chest
to guide me
in impossible respiration
i’m suffocating in my own skin
from no outside force
but my body itself
turns inward and
shouts its dominance at my
cowering self
sniveling in the corner
of my dusty half used heart
where no blade could possible
land a blow deep enough
to silence the torment and
particular personal poison
a torture to course through
every part of me
activating every single neuron
and making me
hyperaware of my
shame and noxious
venomous corpulence
a reality i
never wanted you to see
but is written plainly
in fiery script across my forehead
and in every fold of fat.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
•
**
♥ ♥ ♥
Saccharine
kiss, a taste of heav-
en, it's a chef d'eouvre,an ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
exploding fulgent tint• ••of love••
& commitment;, our to\ /ngue limning ela-\\
tion with these lips as ˋ•´canvas, stars detonate\\
lavishing blessing from above to our bona fide\\\
love ethereal emoti- on scintillate from w/in \\
creating a paradigm- of immaculacy of \\\/\\
endearment with an- ....enfolding c- \\\\\/\/ /
ape of assurance it's an e(mpyrean aroma from\//\///\
two seraphic being wit(h ablazing devotion towards//\\\
each other it erected a b(eatific paradise that link two/\\\/\
souls together in love & harmony & while your lips/\\\///
pressed to mine, it also push away all of my/ /\\\////
trepidation & replace.it with prodigious/\____/////
bliss, it colors my coun ,,,___,,,tenance with perfect\\//////
euphoria that spread out to my psyche.oh how heaven\/\/
descended on earth & spiced our lips with its ethereal sa-
vor oh how it birthed wings in our back that allow us to s-
oar high while relishing this very moment oh how it crea-
ted a divine crown to our heads & dressed us with ecclesi-
astical robe that scintillate w/our love as the source of lig-
ht oh how I want the time to cease to eternally feel this--
juncture oh this kiss.oh this kiss,oh how exhilaration do-
minate in me oh this phase with my king,oh how I pray
this to never end a phase that ignore the world & just fo-
*** to each other we |are united)with the )
love of God that bin- |d us toget(\her a love(
that come out from - |our mouth )\and reveal )
it with this kiss, oh t- |he sweetest )\just the sw)
eetest of all, oh i close |these eyes ) \and appre)
ciate each movement |our lips p) \erform o)
h how i love this kiss |oh how i) \w i love)
you my king, you ha- |ve suppl) \emented)
me with all nutrients |that I n) \eeded f)
or survival, your kiss |have s) \ituate)
d me in a bed so dear |surro) \undin)
g yellow flowers that |bloo( \ms i(
n its most ravishing /state,, ) /oh this)
kiss became gleami- /ng sun\ /light th\
that gives us warm- /th, yes \ \ /this sac\ \
charine kiss, a taste of (heaven/ \_\ (en you/ \_\
've let/ \me taste heaven!
**
with love <3
© Earl Jane
♥ E.J.C.S.
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 6:08 AM UTC
There's a sister who floats with hungry collarbones and a razor-edged smile. She smokes sadness when she isn't ready to exhale.
She is beauty in fine art and wrath the colour of thunderstorms; the rain comes when she smiles.
Holier than thou and quick to judge, with antiseptic perception known to bring out the things you were not aware existed.
Addictive, those imprints from her feet will stamp all over you; nimble fingers puppeteering those who fall out of her thoughts.
She is selfish and always leaves, leaves, leaves. She ran away at the first tremor; she did not stay to watch the concrete crumble.
But she picked me up when the concrete friction broke my knees, lashed tyrants with her tongue and prowled behind the boyfriends that came and always went.
This sister whom I project; the image of her I mirror. She is love and laughter and moods that taper and flare.
She is a cluster of persons, a bomb liable to a detonate on a short fuse. She is trouble ailing in the best possible way; her flames light up the shade.
Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 3:35 PM UTC
Your taste runs like kerosene in my veins,
Our kisses, heated, sending my insides aflame;
I spontaneously combust, lover.
Skin to skin, your mouth is concentrated sin
You make lose my morals, the lust is building;
Blinding, my pupils burn;
Yours darken with something primal, tensions thickening;
The anticipation's sinking
right into my gut, I feel your touch
calloused fingertips dancing up my thighs, teasing.
Your body glistening
with sweat, trailing down south
I follow the track hungrily with my mouth
but it doesn't seem enough.
Our hearts beat fast like the ticking
of a timebomb nearing detonation;
We're going to detonate, my love.
We're going to burst in fancy colors like fireworks gone haywire,
the bed is our sky.
We're going to get lost among the sheets,
like sailing across familiar seas.
The moonlight, dangerously bright
they seem to shine from your eyes
but they darken with something like clouds on a stormy night.
And I'm not sure if there really is a God
but tonight I kept calling his name
yours interspersed in between
heavy breathing, our pants sounding
like broken notes of some orchestrated masterpiece
and the crescendo's nearing.
Our pulse following the rising melody
I am mesmerized, out of control
I am lost amidst the euphoria
right now
with you
Feb 11, 2016
Feb 11, 2016 at 12:05 AM UTC
Blurring,
Through a lifeless realm of light.
Blinding,
Is the massive ray display!
Phasing through two different voids,
As life enfolds, the dark engulfed.
Before the storm,
The tallest bricks reform.
And waves ring silence,
As the boat stays on the shore!
I'll travel to the distant past
To cast the gauntlet to the mass!
As the wise men fill with rage,
Their heads take cover
Under hoods of shape!
Detonate!
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 11:22 PM UTC
There are flowers springing from my bones
in places they were never planted
fracture my skull and call it apathy
I say pain is a better road than dying alone;
can't you see the way my vision is blurred,
squinted too long at the sun now I think I've done damage
burned holes in my corneas before the age of 21, but those are just
surface things, right?
the road feels a lot longer when the cold air hits all my soft spots, like my neck so I cover it up
pooling all my efforts into growing thicker blood that will keep my skin warm
;keep kissing bruises on my arms, thinking that love will heal each new halfhearted attempt at self-sabotage
or manage the leftover evidence;
did somebody forget their brakelights on?
I'm trying to figure out how to get these needles out of my head
rocket science, learning to reverse detonate what might be left
in my system
system check, leaving sticky residue
behind me in my heavy concave tracks
softly trailing back
gotta learn to do it right the first time before I backtrack
my ears ringing like a sound clap;
bringing up old war wounds like we've lost gives us some sense of entitlement
things we don't want to lack,
leave the last stack
where I can mull over the aftermath
digging graves for those who are still alive,
burn my skin tonight
burn it right off my bones so I'll know I'm alive
still kicking like the second round
the afterthought that realizes what went down the first time
don't let me out of the house tonight,
god knows what I might find.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
Next time I act like a heartbroken Holmes,
do me a favor and let me drink it away.
Words hurt what whiskey soothes.
I catch your name drifting away on a nimbus,
past the trees of someone else’s hometown.
Your eyes are bean sprouts and your scent
is divorce. Your fingers are still placid,
not yet ****** from the scratch of anxiety.
Eyebrows bow to nose bone in speculative uncertainty,
confusing rainy prom nights with dreams of Hercules.
One more sip of wine will detonate firecracker cheeks.
I hold your hand in secret on desolate city streets,
remembering the practice of lost lovers and
drunk ******* in dead friend’s beds and falling down staircases
in mid-afternoon moonshine. Our pasts intertwine, just as
West-coast tourist traps fill family photo albums.
Oct 29, 2011
Oct 29, 2011 at 7:44 PM UTC
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY
SWEETEN MY
SORROW.
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY
COLOR TOMORROW WITH
YOUR WINGS.
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY
LEAD ME TO THE FLOWERS.
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY
DECIMATE MY DESPAIR
AND DESPERATION,
ALLOW ME TO FREE FROM THIS COCOON,
YOU DID IT TOO, IT HAS TO BE POSSIBLE.
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY MAKE MY SHADES INTO
PAINTINGS.
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY
LET ME SLEEP ON YOUR BACK,
WRAPPED IN MOSAIC PATTERNS
AND TAKE ME TO INDIA WHILE I DREAM.
ATOMIC BUTTERFLY I'M PLEADING.
DETONATE BESIDE ME.
May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 2:54 AM UTC
Brain waves sway in this cerebral cyclone.
Eating, breathing, bleeding in a home that isn't my home.
Breathing? BREATHING? What are we doing that for?
Abusing and losing. But who's keeping score?
Racing, chasing, running in a circle now.
The same train of thoughts has fallen off the tracks now.
Trying to abide by all your stupid rules now.
Searching for the answers in a mind that's shut downnnnnnn..
Get me out of this new cerebral cyclone.
Ringing! RINGING! That isn't a telephone!
Air-conditioned suppositions and amenities to die for.
View of the pool and a washer-dryer combo.
It's useless to use this scattered brain jumbled mess.
We go from 60 to zero.
But we wear less to impress.
Now we're preparing to pretend that this isn't the end.
When we know that it's time to detonate.
We hear the wind chime now, it's time to unwind now.
But to be thrown off the rocker' s our fate.
Oh, what we'd give for a sweet cerebral cyclone.
Noisy voices in my head, but at least I'm not alone.
Dreaming.. Dreaming... Leave us on the bathroom floor.
Lovely ****** tub with amenities galore.
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 1:48 PM UTC
I feel the passion smoldering my vision;
I am enraptured by your earthly eyes,
And your delicate, bare skin against mine
Is the ultimate nirvana; it's an addiction.
My skin crawls where you have touched;
My neurons detonate, triggered by your voice.
I'm infatuated with the high of desire.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
*
In poetry I unload to explode
To break free from all the dynamite
I usually kept hidden
My passive nature makes me resistant
to its pollutants.
Sometimes they’re more like landmines
Awaiting for someone
Who stomp the wrong buttons
Then detonate
And explode between my shouts
And cries.*
*In all honestly
No matter how resistant I am to become resilient
my core is too vulnerable to crumble
By a simple backslash of toxic tongues
And suddenly I fall in my knees to simply walk away
No battle is worth an effort
When you know it’s just pride
Battling himself.
*
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 3:47 AM UTC
MEMORIES OF SAND
I gave up sweeping that year
Like a penance
As sand permeated
Everything in my condo
Clung to my scalp and feet
Blew in with the fog and landed
In my tub, between my sheets, the sink, the carpet
Gritted between my teeth in the early hours
When i would reach for her still
Before the memory would detonate around me that she didn't come.
I would follow you anywhere.
Morphed into
I can't.
I hate those dagger give-up words.
Unlike the sand
I reviled in coaxing the beach closer still
And sand blurred the boundaries of my life
Inside. Outside.
Past. Present.
Old. New.
I could pull the blanket of crashing waves around me in hypnotizing hues
Breathe in the turquoise or gray or navy blue
Of the mecurial moods of the sea.
Each morning ritual of coffee and perching 8 foot tall on the sea wall studying the swells and tides
I could palpate the energy of my spirit rising around the waves
Curling and mixing as
Aqua-purple-red dragonflies hovered at my veranda hibiscus that murmers truths
I do no want to hear.
And in all that aloneness settled a great quiet still emptiness.
Because I couldn't cry I'd go diving in the persistent waves of salt and kelp.
The cold violated my eardrums and for a moment I'd go spinning-disoriented and weightless-suspended
Surrender without air as the Pacific held me buyouant
Only surfacing to breathe like a Baptism. I was ok being alone.
And sometimes I wasn't.
As the sand exfoliated my old self I'd grasp hold of the new wonders of phosphorescent tide under a harvest moon
And the fading memory of her would rise like a helium balloon I held down for 2 hrs and 4 weeks at Surfers Point in Ventura
Then let her go into the abyss of acceptance
Like granting permission to the invading sand
Gathering like whispers
In disappearing corners of her absence
And leaned into the redefinition of myself:
Barefoot. Sandy. Expectant.
The memory of sand.
Apr 23, 2018
Apr 23, 2018 at 2:19 PM UTC
All weapons of
the fates you've sealed
Are no match for
this pen I wield
The power to
articulate
Ticking rhyme bombs
to detonate
The conflicts waged
gambling mankind
My perfect hand
is treaties signed
Hellbent hounds pray
like dogs, I hunt
Frontline this notebook
battlefront
With metaphors
of mindless drones
Like similes
to brainwashed clones
Whose C4 booms
and IED's
Can't build bridges
like ABC's
Or tear them down
with death regimes
By rusting through
the war machines
Flamethrowin’ my
verbal grenade
With ****** noun
scorched-earth tirade
On militant
cold-blood elite
King cobras know
I'm packing heat
Seeking missile
resolution
Winged raptor
devolution
Prehistoric
barbarism
Literacy
cataclysm
Stockpiling
extinction bones
We're cavemen carving
fallout stones
My Hiroshima
prose explodes
With nuclear
bushido codes
Released from my
katana's ward
To free my press
from shogun lord
Oppressing haiku
imagery
And samurai
epigraphy
Expressions of
my ronin soul
Omitted by
the daimyo
Satsuma is my
poetry
My final draft's
Nagasaki
Ink cartridges
strapped 'round my neck
I print no charge
or background check
And ****** every
live round free
Of innocent
blood elegy
And killing sprees
of gunned-down news
Domestic violence
black and blues
A Number 2
pencil dependent
Obsolete
lead-head amendment
Open carry
shoots a blank
Empty shell case
at my think tank
So grip this peace
then **** and pull it
**** my diction
write the bullet
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 2:10 PM UTC
I've never felt more than half an hour:
Insomnia trickles down until the black-tar-ridden-sap oozes onto
My partially open eyes.
And, to say I've never been in love.
Emotions rise up and retreat-
A constant heaving of the battered
Chest- saving us from finding out
How frightening life is.
Murmuring our sordid laments to Lady Death,
Beneath the murky glow of hotel room bed sheets
And fluorescent dollar store night lights,
Too vacant to summon anything more than a whimper
From our submissive minds.
Nothing ends, here.
One upon another, words flow effortlessly
Out of our cavernous mouths,
Clogging our chests with empty syllables until
We forget why we ever tried to do something more
Than care.
Depression can be felt anywhere-
The air slowly seeps from the hissing
Caracas of a worn out tire,
Or the lungs of anyone
Still enough to remember.
Mindlessly chanting Hail Mary's,
We taunt time with our penchant for immortality
And hospital lobby greeting cards,
Until Aphrodite descends to sell her soul
To the highest bidder.
Mother, I have killed the world
With a time bomb that will never detonate:
Ceaselessly ticking on and on-
A reliant backdrop for something
Too harsh to exist in silence.
Our hearts have fallen from our sleeves
And into films, romance novels,
And 3am cooking infomercials.
Land of the living:
The walking dead,
The too-afraid-to-tell-you-how-I-really-feel,
The product of a broken people
Who traded silence
For a language full of mixed intention.
Children of the night,
Blindly parade around before noon,
Trying to buy redemption
At a corner store market
For half the price
Of the pulpit.
Afraid of hearing the latent echo of
Our own pulsing hearts,
We fill our lives with white noise
And intimacy, too stagnant
To exist without our 3am spirituals.
Anxiously arranging our feeble lives
Around minutes and hours-
Slaves to false agendas,
We battle the dark, secretly,
until soon
We lose sight of the purpose
And get caught up in the motion
Of a world too drugged out on
Redemption
That we forget our own names.
Jan 29, 2014
Jan 29, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
Do we ever forget what we see?
Do we enact what we believe?
Do we arm the spine of our diaries?
To self-detonate to remain drama-free?
Sometimes my intent indents ignorance,
But maybe I've umpired too many bazookas,
And wore out the strength of my remembrance,
Catching rockets aimed at this loser,
Loser?
What are you talking about?
Lost the L in Laughter
Lost the O in Optimistic,
Lost the S in Simplicity,
Lost the E in Expressionistic,
Lost the R in Reality,
So now my soul's succumbed to gravity,
Tragically hatching my apathy with a Whack-a-mole mallet,
A dastardly dressed casualty,
Actually,
I'm trying to reverse the black magic curse and verse my happiness,
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
irreprehensible state
becomes constrained
and ridden with angst
incomprehensible dealings
with endless halls
and no ceilings
drowned out
by the sound
of silence
I cannot speak
for one must look within
to find their peace
otherwise
faced with fate
brain overload
we detonate-
forever yielding
and there;
never revealing,
it remains
lying in wait
within the maze
to take us back
from whence we came
Jan 19, 2019
Jan 19, 2019 at 4:00 PM UTC
there is no such thing as an antihero,
only a villain
who has found an exuse,
an antagonist who can speak more prettily than
all the others
who can lie holes straight through
the hero's
heart,
find their place in the universe
and blot it out on the map because
the universe
does not tend towards anything
but solitude.
you will find yourself all alone.
you will find yourself all
alone
and you can snap the neck of every doll you own but
despair will never be anything more than
an unrequited love, an
attachment that you never grew out of, a
high school crush that you stapled to your heart so as you grew it was like
a gastric bypass
you cannot hold as much love in your heart
as your mother
said you could
but you can kiss and sigh and with every moue you'll wonder just
why
your chest feels fit to burst when you get any deeper than
touch
heart fit to rupture you are the main villain
of every book
i've read
the antagonist in every story you are
the angry girl whose doll parts
lay in pieces
at her feet
whose bomb will detonate if you get too close
{the character i could relate to the most the character i hated the most the character
i talked to whenever i could and
memorized every line to replay, god
i hate
the way you speak
and i want
to hear
it more}
i ripped out your staples and added my own.
{despair will never reciprocate but
i understand you i
do
because we are the same and i hate you because
you hate yourself
and i could give you nightmares every night and
listen to your motives
every
morning
'people are disgusting'
you said
as if it was
a revelation}
you're not ****** up, just out of luck
because four-leaf clovers can't survive droughts.
you are seventyeight percent water
and every drop you spent on
drowning
the background characters
and every doll on your bedroom floor
{i love the way you cry when you laugh because every time
i hope
that one, that one tear
is the final drop wrung from the shroud
of a sailor a burial at sea
and you will crumble
into
dust}
you angry girl your eyes
are a yellowing bruise on the storyline
your backstory is a rash
on the protagonist's hands
and all your inner demons told you you were not alone but
you explained them away and
appeals to pity left you empty.
i will rip out all your staples i
will make you
seventyeight percent
saltwater
my heart is a mirror you can find yourself there and
reassemble yourself
from all your broken parts
i will be the blueprint from which
you rebuild
yourself
{a story is nothing
without
a villain}
Jul 25, 2013
Jul 25, 2013 at 3:25 AM UTC
We've been having such a good time out here lately
chasing chasing chasing this summer to the end
of its life,
and it's about time we took half a handful of
something decent to calm our nerves, breathe slow
in and out just like we practiced when
the stars hid their faces and we decided
the nights were getting short and we'd
better hide ours, too.
and I know our brains will always be
a little bit hardwired for self destruction,
but before you go digging around again
in old scraps searching for new ways to place blame, new ways to fit
our shoulders with damage & **** counts,
take this down off the shelf
take a deep breath and hand
me the blueprints.
Sometimes I trip over my tongue when I speak, sometimes I forget and just
mumble instead,
and sometimes I tear out stiches too early
sometimes I don't get what I want and I blame myself
hate myself for thinking that we all have to come to terms with our own
versions of crash-and-burn fairytales,
but isn't that the truth of it all? If this
brutal reality doesn't shake us and stir
the dust from our bones, nothing will;
no morning or afterlife can save us until
we stop sharpening our teeth and put down our steel blades
nothing is made forever, but forever
is made up of a lot of nothings,
the way we stir the *** on our bad (or good) days is only one of them;
the way we tell ourselves we aren't important is a lie
don't whisper this into my ears at dusk,
scream it into the sky
scream it into the palms of your hands until you can't breathe anymore,
it has never been better, it has never been worse
work your desires into your
DNA coding
detonate what's left in your system
(start over again)
I'm finding new ways to stand still on this high balancing beam
new rituals and new ways to throw my hat off to you,
give credit where credit is due
I only hope that when it's said and done
and I'm on my way out
I'll know half of what I do right now,
feel it surging in my headrush & in the burn
of my fingers
I hope I'll know on my way out the door:
Nothing has ever been better and nothing has ever been worse.
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 11:41 PM UTC
sent forth on a path of destruction,
the prince of war is parading
through orange tides of
burning torches—
the funeral rites of
the dead king.
the engine of entropy spits out little
agents of chaos like bees from a hive.
they will sow
in time for the harvest
and when the sun rises to adorn
their naked, furry bodies
with golden dew,
they will shiver
in the remnants
of every dead star
before this one ends again.
a banshee from the ages
arrives as a missile of
determined suffering
set to detonate in close
proximity to the loose reins
of my forgotten destiny.
she wears a crown of roses
and embraces me with
her thorns
in the realm of Nature’s
loveless fawn—
a birthed, forgotten creature
gilded in silver linings
only to melt at
the feet of
God’s love.
I have cried rivers of tears
for people that have left
and all it does is drown
the land in a flood
of never memories
that keep me
isolated in stagnancy.
the wet magic in my
blood is vaporizing from
my fingertips now,
the crackle of split
lightning spins through
my skyless eyes.
abbreviated life spans
chunked into pieces
of lives I never wanted to
live, yet helped form
me.
I see violence in the periphery—
muted and out of
focus.
oil-spitting broken android
smashing through houses
looking for his heart
before powering
down.
“I am clipped,”
she whispers.
*“my wings don't lift me
anymore.
I am a trophy in a
cage.
I am atrophy in a
cage.
singing about the world
beyond these bars.
set me free—
I see the
window!
my flight feathers
will grow back
and I will leave you—
yes,
but I might return
and sing
to you about
that world beyond
the window.
I am not yours
to keep—
set me free!”*
she commanded my heart,
so I did—
I set her free.
and she flew away
into the world
and left me
with a parting gift—
an open window
and a devastating song of silence
that echoes in my ribcage forever.
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 9:49 AM UTC
I have a theory.
My theory is about frailty. Moments of frailty. Being fragile to the core that it shakes you to your bones. Being weak and standing up on your own just scares the hell out of you. Despite all these, you try to keep the one thing that keeps your weaknesses intact and in one place. It is hidden inside their throats and at the palm of their hands, at their neck and behind their ears. It is sitting in their lungs, begging for escape but longing for the hold. Flaunt and retire. Flaunt and retire.
My theory is about frailty. Moments of frailty. You started unbuttoning my ribs around you. Watched me try to untangle myself from your subtle embrace. Exposed my weakness, my fragile strings wrapped on your pinky finger, ready to release, ready to detonate. I unzipped your thighs wrapped around my waist. You left me alone with your scent. Watch me try to scrub away the heat you leave on my skin. See the buttons slowly falling on the bed we shared.
My theory is about frailty. Moments of frailty. How I want to destroy anything that dared touch me and took a piece of my lonely. It is about open palms giving vague dislike. It is a table for two but only an empty seat stares at your eyes. It is feeling the awkward breaking that is within your fingertips but never seemed to be enough for preparing you for the fall. You finally wake up choosing to breathe but still flinching at the sound of something coming near. Your subtleties dance on her tongue's words. Soothing as they are, they're poison.
My theory is about frailty. Moments of frailty. How being brave is nowhere near your grasping distance. You try, every single day you try. You try to always go for the long term but the universe decides what you get, right? And you're always left with dust, shadows, and empty bottles of what ifs. You're always left with the questions, the sitting alone, the cold coffee in the morning. You're left with the sad playlists on your Spotify. You're left on your own. If you were in The Fault in our Stars book, that will be my always.
My theory is about frailty. Moments of frailty. Fears. Trembling hands holding out cups of secrets. Awkwardness in every written letter on paper hidden under the pillow. Loneliness sitting next to old books bought on a favorite bookstore. Depression long gone but resurfaces every now and then. It's one of things that stayed. Self-hate. It is one thing you run towards to when things get rough and when doubts are heavier than anything you laid your hands on and tried to carry.
My theory is about frailty. Moments of frailty. Of how I recently started loving myself and slowly drowning my hate in formaline. Of how I keep on repeating I never need the reassurance. Of how poems are all I need to feel like I can feel air inside my lungs again.
It is one thing to have a theory, and another to face it in practice.
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Cuz I have some issues... I won't admit .. But I no ill commit to be bad to you ..I'm just bad.. ( No )....To you ... I'm good in bed but I'm just bad for you....
Uh what are these issues
What cause all this pain
You can open up and tell me mama I bet we both can relate
No we can't ) How you no
Y'all are all the same ) Well I can't complain
Cuz these women are made to be fix
And we ****** are made to be broken
But y'all use ***** as a weapon
And get mad when we wanna just detonate
Cuz I have some issue ) I get it tho
I been there befo .. But I love it tho
Let me be the one to help you change your views
And how is that )
If I give a good channel you just have to be brave enough to watch the news
See bad girls are no good ( that's a lie )
And the good girls are no fun ( believe that)
Hood girls just wanna front (umm)
College girl just wanna **** ( haha)
It seem the ones who know how to roll always get a ring
But it's just promises
Just long resents
No wedding dress
No matter how much white you sniff
But what about my issues )
See I noticed it
I can take control of it
Even when your warm as hell
And cold as spit
I seen the broken heart but I can fix the split
She'll hurt your feelings
She'll no why
She'll play smart
To these dumb guys
Idk the game but if I'm playing man I won't be surprised
She smoke ****
She she get high
Best *** in the world this girl knows how to build up *** a drive
See your all the same )
No baby I went from bed ,floor, kitchen ( Hold up )
( That Quiet *** , disgraceful )
( Oh word up ) ( Word up)
Hold up forget it cuz all of the bad girls are always unfaithful
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 12:53 AM UTC
With a smack
and an echo,
things of mine are broken.
Blood vessels detonate,
spilling, flourishing, blooming
under the seven layers of my armor,
blushing shades of
red, blue, green.
They are embarrassed
by their fragility,
shy about the reminder
that they are not steel.
Immortality is
flamboyant as ever,
my shining ichor,
a beacon for the reaper,
whose mouth begins to water.
Only a false alarm,
the green and yellow
glistening contusion whispers.
Dust myself off
and keep walking,
Pain fades,
and my heart keeps beating.
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 1:10 AM UTC
I yearn for a sombre eternity.
I yearn to be the diamond of your universe.
But i have been forgotten,
like shooting stars of the 1800s
I believe we had something,
a glowing spark that hung from fragile dynamite wires, threatening to detonate into a full blown love affair.
Day by day, your interest faltered, sending me into depths of sadness.
And i’d cry, every night, for i now knew, that our love was a dying flame, the kind that you see at the end of almost finished candle wicks.
And so my eyes bled, they bled sorrow and pain, and they made the spark on the dynamite wire die out. And there was smoke, and for a while, i was lost.
And the dynamite never blew up, and the love that could have been, never was. And here i stand, broken and bruised, just hoping you would find me again, and reignite the spark.
Because in all truth,
I really, really, really wonder what it would be like to be with you.
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 11:33 AM UTC
Skeletal remains
On a grave
In the dust of snow
Where no flowers grow
And love knows no one
A town of abandonment
People forsaken
Give me a wedding ring
Wrapped in a coffin
My flesh is white snow
my bones are dead tree limbs
my blood is warm red wine.
My heart is in danger
From a stranger with a pretty face.
My heart is hanging from a noose.
Then you cut me loose.
I am a suicide bomb.
Counting down all night long.
My heart is astray.
Her eyes look manic and there's no hiding.
She'll detonate.
And rip my veins away.
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:43 AM UTC
Give me your glass
I'll give you mine—
Drink down that liquid fire
Watch it gleam in our eyes
Smiles conspire
We'll light up this town—
I'll start, drop my cigarette
alight on the ground
This bar is a beacon
A torch in the night—
Sparks singe our skin
Raw but it feels right
Give me your glass
I'll give you mine—
Drink down that liquid fire
Watch it gleam in our eyes
We tear through the streets
leave flames behind—
raze the city
with heat off our tires
They won't ever catch us
in our deadly machine
'cause we run on agent orange
instead of gasoline
Give me your glass
I'll give you mine—
Drink down that liquid fire
Watch it gleam in our eyes
I'll kiss you and accelerate
forget about the wheel—
taste heat on our tongues
our incendiary dream is real
Veer into the flames
our sins will detonate
a sensuous Little Death
for our immortality.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC