"unhinges" poems
Morning has broken
but she has not
it had been a long night
sinister fraught
the stars were cut
in lacerations of lace
stains of tears
mark trails
on her face
mascara in circles
mocking panda eyes
multiple moments
of almost self-demise
wrists bound to
sadness, heart
trussed to trust
pain from crumbling
illusions, plus
that constant,
searing lust
Now, on the floor,
lying face down
in what seemed
like blood,
she starts to
move around,
as realization pours over
in a thick, viscous flood:
She can move her arms;
for they were not
really bound
That gag in her mouth?
it has dissolved into sound
The sound of her voice
as she gets up
from the floor
opens the window
bringing light
to the fore
guttural noises
escape deep
from her throat
and before she
knows it, the
room starts to float
furniture circling
as the energy takes
and she lets in the air
fresh as new fate
her cuts balmed over
winds whipping up her hair
marks from taut ropes
smoothing over to bare
and the light bursts in
in a blast, in a whoosh
like bursts of starlight
cutting in with a push
they seep into shadows
pulsing over the dark
the howling rescinds
in an explosion of sparks
blocks of pain that held
her chained
are knocked over
and the lightstorm
keeps coming
her inner percussion
just doesn't stop drumming
And as she flies through that window
and unhinges the door
from its frame
freedom
is now hers
forever to claim
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 4:53 AM UTC
*Here the horse munches the grass
little knowing the trots of yore
for time when lays the bricks with curse
unhinges the strongest door.
Here the horse is tethered to feed
little hearing the neighs of past
for time when crumbles sows a seed
grows new order from soil of dust.
Here the horse lazes in sun
little seeing the shadow's growth
for time when ends a period's run
buries in the walls a lover's oath.
Here the horse walks in a round
little feeling the earth's spin
for time when shrinks the highest to ground
kingdoms fall in heaps of ruin.*
Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
I do no want to be angry
Anger is not an emotion you have truly felt
until you know how much it hurts
and how it unhinges your mind,
introducing scary new thoughts
into your consciousness
It keeps you up at night,
a feeling so intense that it interrupts
and erases all others,
leaving you
empty
It is a fuel,
but it burns *****
leaving debris and remnants
in the motor of your mouth
It pollutes every aspect of compassion
flowing through your veins
It will never run it's course and die out,
it sows the soil of your soul
leaving seeds of despair
reaping crops of destruction
Anger is not to be taken lightly because
it is the chemical manifestation
of all that is wrong in the world
finally
getting
to
your
head.
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
Of all things unknown,
easily a non-denumerable infinity, very little will drive a person to the precipice of madness like the insignificance of a statistic - say one in seven billion,
a statistic that unhinges the mind, dragging out primitive insanity, catalyzed by spurned desire,
an insanity that is raw-
raw and sick and hungry-
feeding upon itself like an epidemic, an acid that reduces one's existence to a longing for a hypnopompic eternity, some twisted fascination that becomes an elegy for the ****** one where the past with holds the future, laughing at the heart's bipolar fluctuation between absolute paralysis and pure agony, a grey stillness to a light switch flipped off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and aren't you tired yet? Are you not chilled by truth's cold whisper, shaken awake by logic's steel grip?
It is a rare prison we build for ourselves-
trapped between what we know and what we wish,
these non-existent walls of unrequited everything,
where melancholia acts as our shackles and we sit in complete silence,
content in our discontent,
because we know,
we know that escape is intangible
when you are both jailer and
captive.
Feb 3, 2013
Feb 3, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
I'm strung out on you.
I'm intoxicated with the way
you make me feel.
I tingle when I think about it.
Your scent unhinges me.
Completely.
The warmth of ecstasy
vibrates in my core.
I am high when I am
near you.
Adrenaline rushes through
me like *******
The sensation of your touch
unfolds me like a map
to the origin of pleasure.
Your words stroke me
and make my body bend,
twist and shake.
Under your hand I
contort and shiver.
You make me quiver.
You grab me and
swivel my hips.
My eyes roll back and
I bite my lip.
Like ******
time does not exist
when you are in me.
Your caress is like ketamine
I can not feel my extremities.
There is no ceiling.
There is no floor.
The way you move me
makes me your *****
Like MDMA your
embrace makes my
heart race.
You take me on a
ride that I can not escape.
The ****** is like
sitting on a speaker in space.
Your deep base line
makes my spine roll.
The loss of control
feels like a k hole.
I inhale you .
You envelop me
internally.
You have full control
of my body
Without you I am sober.
Without you I am
waiting for more.
I need another hit of you.
I'm strung out on you.
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 1:42 AM UTC
I have been buzzing around meaningless
Day after day, week after week
It’s still here
Fog in the form of sand trapped in my brain
Static is too dull a word to describe it
**** this
I have nothing else to sort through
The exhaustion is worthless even though I still have it
And I’ve been screaming for so long
But because I am paralyzed
Because I gripped my own throat for too long
Only dust comes out when my mouth unhinges
I’m still impatiently waiting for happiness to come and clean me up
Spark spark spark
I clench my fingers into my side
It feels like dirt in between my nails
I’ve been blown out like a candle
And like ash I float away
Oct 15, 2020
Oct 15, 2020 at 9:37 PM UTC
I'm losing control,
Watching his body go limp,
In my mind,
Imagining his eyes rolling back,
And gradually closing,
Feeling his heart,
Halt to a sudden stop,
And visuallising his unmoving chest,
His head lolling and heavy,
The image unhinges me,
Heart too fast,
Eyes wide open,
Body shaking,
Just another flashback
Jan 15, 2011
Jan 15, 2011 at 10:05 AM UTC
I see the black snake of death.
As it suffocates me and steals my breath I see the word lies written across it’s neck.
Gulping coughing choking on regret, but the serpent tells me not to fret.
Twisting tying constricting my soul.
It won't let go.
Manipulation cold contemplation has led to this aggravation, and my God **** lack of hesitation.
Tears fall without grace, the snake and I now face to face.
Its hollow eyes take me in, drench me in unholy sin.
Gagged and rotten are the teeth of death.
It’s jaw unhinges and I see the tunnel leading me straight to hell.
I once was an angel but slowly I fell.
Crashing to the darkness below, I am forever here to dwell.
Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 9:38 PM UTC
my heart unhinges, crackling
when midnight stares at me
bleak anticipation lingering
where nosiness of endless stars -
dusted over me not yet ablaze
was not enough;
even if they freckle my skin
and speckle my heart - but
i sleep next to creaking doors and
breathe in synch to planets dying -
i am not ready yet, dear, i won't yet go
i kiss the moon and stars goodnight;
when midnight stares at me, i stare right back.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
I want to know how you take your coffee.
I'd like to gather up all of your pieces
And pierce them with sewing needles.
I'll watch them bleed,
And scab and scar,
Until they result in you.
I'll shine a light into your darkest places,
And scribble down your secrets.
Let a feather duster explore the things long forgotten,
Until all of your sins have been uncovered.
Let a flaming wick alight your eyes,
Until your passions burst forth, uninhibited.
I'd like to trace your lines, your cracks,
Your every imperfection,
Until your mind unhinges completely.
I'll drive you mad with my probing.
You'll be crazy with me.
And I'll be lost somewhere inside of you.
And neither of us, will ever be the same.
Jan 8, 2011
Jan 8, 2011 at 10:04 PM UTC
Thorough I fall in gravity's stall. My jaw unhinges during the opening of my mouth, spewing out silent, unspoken words of unimportance. Blah, blah, blah, I keep wandering about, unheard, unwanted, and unaware of your ******** Stupidity for the all-knowing and self-righteous minions, may their force not be with me. I speak with crow medicine, better than prescriptions. I feel with emotion. I listen with soul. I think with mind. I love with heart and convictions.
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 9:11 AM UTC
I love the way my voice sounds when I say your name.
It's like honey melding into the warm butter on toast.
Sipping water after eating mints.
Those sorts of capricious and silly feelings.
It is consuming, inextricably tangling my words when I am speaking.
Every little word slightly unhinges from its meaning and spells out yours.
Somehow you find your way into my laughter, giggles and smiles.
So, please don't say you are just a person.
Sure, you don't rule the universe.
But you sure do d.o.t the stars in mine,
sweet heart.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 6:59 AM UTC
The truth is much harsher when it is out of the blue
but then it isn't really out of the blue, is it?
Lingering, hovering, nagging, gnawing
at the back of my mind,
fingers just of it's reach.
Each time it would come close to the surface
I would glimpse at its purpose,
only to get nervous and kick it back away.
So I may stay oblivious to it just a little longer.
I knew this to be the lull before the storm
And now the horrid truth has pull the storm in to my orbit
Full of lightening, but what is its target?
Great flashes of light burns through the night
leaving heaps of ashes among the trash.
I remain unhurt, undamaged, unburned.
Others haven't faired so well.
Feared the flash and rightly so
Their pain stains the ground in the form of ashes.
Ashes and dust stains everywhere, even in the heaviest of rain
A reminder. Of what's to come. What's to be returned.
And I -
I watch it all.
The Writting on the Wall on the ground.
I might be unburned but such a sight
unhinges me something terrible
Prys me open just enough to cry.
Pouring tears lost in the roaring rain.
But crying all the same.
Because I don't know why it's you.
I don't know why you have to die.
Dodging lightening all your life until now a streak is lodged in you.
Breaks and splinters inside tightening its hold.
Even though you are burning up, I have never seen you look so cold.
I wish it was one of your famous poker faces
Tricking us you are going to fold
but at the last minute revealing a hiden ace.
If ever there was a time to play your ace, it is today.
Don't let this be our last game
But you have no control over it do you?
Have to deal with the cards that has been delt.
I must admit, these cards are ****
No aces to play but that won't stop you
You'll play till the end with the same grace you've always had.
So for now lets keep playing.
We still have time, we've always had time
You are not ashes, yet.
And when that last flash does occur
Then I will say goodbye
And in the morning cry all the more
Mourning you and everything you were.
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 6:42 PM UTC
you do not remember,is what you should know first,
remind yourself that:
you do not recall writing an eulogy as a love letter,
you forget about the graves you've dug,
all the pretty faces and estranged loves you've buried here in agony once
foreplays should not burn as repeated pictures in the back of your mind–do not speak of how you have this body memorized—
so you do not put the same record on,
you do not dance in the same room,
you do not sway to the same tune,
offered first to those that intoxicated you with life
you do not light her mouth,gasoline boy
you do not fuel her insides
with the same lies that burned you
you do not kiss her still tasting like the bleeding red of someone else's lips
you do not,you cannot **** the sadness out of her
corpses do not feel anything,do not hear you pray to another god
corpses do not have hearts that break upon being touched by hands that know pleasurable pain well in the most repulsive ways
you do not look at the eyes burning with saltwater
you shrug it off as how you ignore warnings and triggers
we revel in the body's warmth,it feels good pretending it's alive, but the body pretends it's not here
pretends it's just paper skin and friction igniting,acting as catalyst of our self-initiated destruction
you chase your high
the locks come loose
everything unhinges from their hold
darling,there is nothing ghosts fear more than being lost
and after the deed is done
you do not stare at the remains,
you do not paint your face with empathy
it's all for love,it's all for fun
besides, dead girls do not bleed
nor do they cry
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC
Like a snake unhinges its jaw—pink cheek exposed—
to something warm and whole, I unhinge you over and over and over again in my mind when I need to shed away every time I told you I would visit,
when I need to shed away that night we drank a cheap six pack in my tangle of blankets,
when I need to shed away the songs you wrote about blue eyes,
when I need to leave only the raw, scaly bits of you—the bits I scraped away at and made real, not the girl four hours away with the name I always mispronounce,
not the pieces she only barely notices when you leave her side, or the pieces you left for me to find, scattered on my windowsill.
I unhinge the moment your forked tongue first formed the words “I love you,"
the day I took pictures of you playing my guitar with the missing string—you said you didn’t need it anyway.
I think about the wrongs we righted when I slept in your car with your hand on my head, and I know I can’t come close to chewing our problems over, so I swallow them whole.
Jul 29, 2013
Jul 29, 2013 at 4:36 PM UTC
Fingertips graze the spine
as the mind unhinges its
large jaws of speech,
Gnawing at the prospect
of knowing you through time
and space.
What enters my heart is
no longer darkness
But only the light of the
beautiful earth. I
descend into my body
again. Even after my
trancendental experience.
I give myself to the music
as it always is rushing
through my veins. Blood
that is an inferno of
statement and philosophy.
Where do you stand in this
game with me? Checkmate?
Pawn? Bishop? King?
Slide into me oh Rook.
Destiny calls to us.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
walks into my heart without a knock.
unhinges the door. rusty bronzed bolts and all.
boasts about embodiment. confidence like a heartbreak.
i see myself through words like wrecked and reactive.
i write him poems across my lips with purple paint. blind heading into battle.
he writes me poems across my thighs with fingernails. a mosaic masterpiece.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:38 AM UTC
I have years in my head that are just blurs
Sitting in a trailer park, smelling charcoal
Climbing a pine tree, sap sticking my palms
To whatever bark unhinges itself
Scraps that cling to the life blood
Of it’s origin
I have an orange creamsicle ice pop
Memory
That summer, the Dog my mom and dad rescued
Ran away
I think he died
Or maybe it was she
But I played like a princess on the frailty of a washed up
Playground, decaying in disrepair
Just happy for the orange creamsicle
I am free
In these moments
Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 11:38 AM UTC
I stumble on the ground beneath my feet.
What lies ahead I cannot beat.
The lies, the flair, this oppressive air
Unhinges my nerves and blinds my stare
And tosses me back to worlds unknown
Full of dark shadows and whispers blown.
The berating of limbs and sinking ground
Entangle me whole and push me down
Till darkness is all I see.
No more will Light be my master's key
With which to open my mind and clear my soul
For those thoughts and deeds that once took hold.
Somewhere down this darkened stream
I take hold of firm root, it may seem
Only to be ****** within my chest
Freezing my heart along with all the rest.
No more to see, no longer to stay
My breath is caught fast as I slowly float away.
Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 12:41 AM UTC
words.
nomadic in nature. traveling across cities and states and countries and continents fluidly like liquid. the translation from lead to lips, however, may be the most arduous travel yet.
words.
lost. wan white against the black backdrop of my mind.
when my jaw unhinges, the magic is lost and those little travelers
stumble, crash,
drown in foreign ears.
consonants
plummet from my teeth
and lose their serrated
edges, crumbling like pliant cakes
under eager fingertips
vowels become
clipped
once they've rolled
down my tongue, their once sweet melodies
sharper
than a shiv-
words.
home. they're a broken kaleidoscope
against a canvas. so
jaggedly beautiful, interchanging hope
and anguish and no
anxious eye or mental interloper
can steal away my unaligned shine.
the pen and paper are my saviors,
the destination of my pilgrimage from foreign lands
where I come to terms with words
and worship them
once again.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 8:58 PM UTC
the thrill and guilt
of transgression
unhinges my very being.
a foreclosing law is laid down
on the fierce skin of justice.
duty and danger calls.
and should the heavens truly fall,
if i'm caught, or probably even if not:
it will be an even greater struggle than ever before, living myself,
but that's not all, at the very least, that's not all.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC
It hurts where? Yes, it will hurt everywhere.
Stethoscope there in the room with stainless surfaces and a ticking,
No it is a tapping behind the walls stirring the blood snared along with something inside of me.
Potions and cures, then sealed containers of flowers and beakers locked away remain motionless.
As if hiding, as if afraid.
Rather, enlightened of the cells I carry.
Befriend the gallops of illusion.
Four horsemen down from the failing ceiling.
Postmarked dollhouse, scars on the ceiling, echoes joined to you at the hip.
Scars of the disease you carry and sprinkle onto chests like so many children's agony.
Hooves carry eyes to scan this barren nest of yours.
There,
the ruins of something innocent.
And there,
the photos of some memory discarded.
Assured with the reality that creation of life is but fantasy here, unattainable.
The innocent fall.
Smiling as they enter, your charms masking the smell of your closet's skeletons, a door revolving unhinges.
The coins you receive, coated in thumbprints and neglect. Mirrors of your frame.
A currency, your own currency of moans and gnashing.
Your small teeth becoming your permanent incisors.
Crumbling.
Powder then paste, yet you remain alive.
They become your master for sixty nine dollars.
They became your lover for want of a token.
Tokens forged in the booth appearing near noon.
Nothing else or again.
Then the drummer moves to erase the music of your past.
A vat overfilled with murmurs and spittle.
Your finished symphony.
May 17, 2016
May 17, 2016 at 12:48 PM UTC
From the boughs of trees
in the Garden of Eden,
a great, heavy serpent emerges.
Its countless muscular movements
up, along my spine,
lead to my tingling skull.
And there,
quietly,
it fixes its fangs at the base.
I feel the venom catch the current of my blood and rush away with it,
and I'm paralyzed,
absently noting that I may soon die.
My speech is frozen in my mouth
as its cool, slippery sheath winds tighter
about my throat.
I blink away the weariness,
attempting to focus,
but its arrow of a head has arrived at my cheek.
Ah, there you are,
I say,
just as it unhinges its jaw,
and consumes me,
face first.
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC
A writer gawps at society,
I went to a bus stop after tea,
Littered with used syringes,
Drugs evolving, slightly unhinges,
Why do we accept this as normalcy?
It's a challenge for the authorities,
Or for changing norms in society..........
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 3:57 PM UTC