pulled curtains at sunrise

 the very earth is burning, enough to be taken from me

this lothing, this feverish relentless everlasting bad to worse tendencies

erupt already you fiend, concede defeat in this hellish wave

the one of many to come should we not repent.

 

vanity is taken for granted and I feel no shame

it pains me to no end to drag the carnage forward

to satisfy peace of mind we condeem others to the evidence

we partake of their flesh in binding, desperate, love intrusions

take shelter in the skin leaving no space, leapfrog to the end

peel off this hunger layer by bite by nail by eye

break bones, break a sweat, no turning back now.

can one capture this bark shell of instinct

and institutionalize it, frame the middle man

to compensate for his lost we shall blurry the screen

ofuscate the audience and keep them guessing

it adds to the dramatic effect and delays repeating lines

no need for subtitles for the lost and those confused

by the time they realize the crime we will be far away.

 

my memoirs hurt me

anxiety steals my breath

a sort of phantom pain chases me in the silence

I stop, I break

I begin to dream again, in those moments I do not bleed

nor know who I am

in a silver ring I linger a promise to try

and so I drag myself towards a perceived finishing line,

may it be allowed.

lonely for the company of looking gazes and giving in

disgust has mellowed the meal

invaded my kingdom through force

impaled my lover, pursued by maggots

hate is not a choice, rather the remedy of sanity

provided one reaches a distrusted state of faith and never looks back.

my destiny stole my smile

devoured my sympathies, spoiled of wars to those granted lesser evils

regret of no conseguence as the throne has been adjourned 'till breathing moments past

long buried and forgotten, exchanged for grim nights in the dark.

chump at those nails you greedy fuck as air escapes your lungs,

pressure mounts atop your chest compressing, narrowing the canals of hope as despair festers

and travels deep, it drinks deep, the only thing that desires your heart and blood.

 

bide my wishes lightbringer, oppose my foretold song

it does take a tall toll for a poor soul in a state of decay and rot

spilt poison whilst coasting, swallowed whole by the undertow

truly it didn't take shape as despair dissipated by misfortune comes and goes

perhaps a broken mans purpose is to feed the fishes.

 

a storyteller exchanged his missive for my tongue

 to speak this frustration once unknown, spread this word and be mad at an inferior clone

travelling from ear to mouth to mind, one fool at the time

where else should a charlaton to go with tremendous abandon once the sky has fallen?

 exercise caution least you wake the weak, the feble and those without a cause

for you see they hunger for a justification and restless they hunger for proper freedom

a true pandemic virus, I wish I could call the now extinct thought police to solve this catastrophe

elated by a challenge to throw our lifes away as we contemplate a hopeful cure that we fragmented

at once at arms always ignorant and yet self-assured this is the one exclusive way to pull the trigger

who the fuck bought a gun to a civilized discussion? gut this swine and find his family at once.

blood rushes to my head, never in my wildest dreams could I realize to become THAT guy

a slave to the game, too illiterate to prime ahead with a clear understanding of rules and stategy

swinging at the trees, climbing only to fall back down, not quite a fly move

who the fuck set this forsaken timer to the terms, an accord so black and mean

we ain't about logivity do we look like we count more than hours?

 

devil by my ear, ever lasting youth and a dreamy despair petrifiying gaze what has happen

for you to harpoon me with words that linger in my head

do come a little closer and keep us company, be a good storyteller

and improve what comes next, one be all we ever needer or wanted

awaiting an heart attack the seal the contract, not at all a bad disease that puts me at ease

what is there to cure for the self-injured, those insecure and of need, want and tripping affairs

that one could better medicate satisfaction without absolving the victim for the crime

requires punishment and that takes time, timing and precisely being deeply aware of thy enemy.

 

this hunger for fantasy takes me for a spin and wants me to fall in

a dark abyss that I DO want to enable and trust

no matter the cost.

not okay with the past.

a crow with a crooked back

clipped wings and broken beak

found his way to me yesteryear

to the date, the hour, the minutes of this uneventual meeting which

the bizarre cannot detach

a similar experience may scar and take will to heal

should we feel want for, I pray we do: 

I would do it again.

a dirty doomed scrawny living thing

what, who and why has Death so narrowly shoved you my way friend?

instead you throw no weight, get carried by the jail of the Wind ever binding

at mercy, unrepending; unto me, my arms, my open door

both starving for answers

stuffed and weary of pilling on further questions.

 

chosen to be seen

apparition you Are deformed 

afraid of what's to come

they pass the time playing cards

and I throw a tantrum and bicker

for I have not been invited to join table

pour myself a drink, rest a while, listening out for my name just in case.

Improved upon + can my god take us back * freely given in vain

 a man, monk in gowns                                                              

fashionably late should society dictate                                     

overlaps our heroine personal space          

serene, simulatenously at ease and not

at all imposing

his eyes were not shut nor shone

for he had open tears for sockets 

and a shallow breath you see

an added terror to our girls surprise

Emotions are not building blocks

Just as well they feel incompatible

found wanting by a current

into the typhoon we go

absolved of all unrequested alibis

a nose drop, an eye twitch

a most necessary facial reset

is happiness a buried default state of mind?

of the sane weightless capacity per tranquility

a removed cousin perhaps of those already dead

may they come back to haunt me.

face to face, space shrinking

tiny quarters and yet we quarrel silently

they stand like statues as the urban zombies slide by

an attack, an intrusion

undeniable, unforgiveable, scowl and hiss

spill poison and be done with it all 

choking tears because we do not identify where to go

"you can give sight to the blind

but you cannot force them to see."

mistery akin to hope is a deadly drug

not to be trusted, do not pursue don't you see?

how travel lust can not be sated

how could we stand to be grounded once we learnt how to fly

digging deeper at the root of the possibilities

i shan't go just yet. it is my time in the spinning wheel.

writing naked in a lonely place

unsafe, unclean, not quite ever enough space

this graceful memories I hold a sentimental stake over

they put the devils eye upon me, no longer said to trust

high marks, a great achiever, we look away awaiting for dust to flirt

because no one ever calls, words in a screen carry less weight

not good enough after all is said and done.

replace my blood for gold

substitute my lungs for machine (parts)

with vibrant silver lux we pour top to bottom

oil, expensive metal and many other things

chips that connect, whatever for we forget

the bluesprints we cannot understand

the plans have outgrown the scale

the only castle I was ever capable of explaining

I thumpled these cards and stained them with blood

off a cut of a finger 

and for that I am ashamed:

I shall do it again,

this time I felt the cut run deeper

the whispers louder, the flush stronger

it is a mercy truly to take it easy it seems

playing with my senses hoping it eventually makes sense.

taken legacy for granted in exchange for peace of mind

pushing back, down, in vain we breath in unison

an act of mercy, a respite for the broken denied a place to go

thought the meaning of life would slide by the door

just as the flood tied up and they gorged in drink

bloaded walking corpses meant to explode a cheap coffin

searching high and low for the rulebook 

acknowledging that if this roundabout is a game

some are bound to lose, thrown out with revered silence

your compromise is an happy median to a disgusting degrading empathy

hope cannot feed the blind, nor force them to see

your kingdom in ashes father

the broken bones exposed, unburied and these wounds

festering cadavers starving for sinners

hold my hand for once as we step into the sun

so it might toast us clean of this flesh that became our downfall

no salvation without judgement: your fucking words not mine,

I merely come here standing in pursuit, a hard testament to an attempt of clinginess

sex a birth call that in contempt granted me parents that selfishly left me far too soon

did not need nor wished for me and were therefore blessed with 3 too many

I fear all this is as true as the defiant gravity. 

dehydrade, starve thus a suffocating waiting.

tack

overrated mistep have lead me astray

so far as they can tell me 

denying me this nostalgia

this sickening familiarity that binds me

shadow pray tell me what figure seeks to suffocate me

what lines and dark whispers, cracked half-words and blurred faces

this hope, this saudade, this half-hearted wave of a divine soul

I would chop it, sap it, get a fat straw up that bitch

clear house without need for a knife

nor help from a wife to know the meaning of my life.

 

a dread that left me for dead

this self contained distance has a purpose

a masterplan that enquotes whatever I meant I said

the rust of times begone will free the shackles

the anchor has been sealed bound to a new route

and should the dust settle so too I shall merge

bone to earth and dirt no longer condescending

a less fucked up erotic bend of flesh, call me crazy

all I might beg for should my tongue turn

whiplash from wishing to take what was not mine

restless and unsettled 

do not bury from on my back as that sounds mundane.

 

strangers do not aproach me for I do not give in

I do not offer silence, an empty smile in calm control

they do not confide, I no longer appeal to the wounded

to those whose tears need hiding

jesus christ has perhaps left this vessel of advise

how can irony poison ever so wicked That hope for better days

where I may stand still and observe quietly without disturb

and so my walking tomb is now the abundance of this goodness

 

I fear that same liberating scream will incriminate me and inprison me

a jacket is not that much better company 

I gather from the ill, the enferme and the weak

those who feel low, blue or on the knock-down agenda

as if they no longer belong and cannot kick that habit as it bites strong

I keep them all in my prayers every single night.

 

can grace bend

can blood wash away real realization

for true hunger cannot be felled

do not bring doom, gloom and evil to thy neighborhood

disengage with these malpractises and carnal ways at the frontier

no son, that chark is a body mark

shallow hard at the sight of this dark omens

breath harder, take notice of the infection

mine now, mine.

left alone in the wake of dawn

tick.

recreate my age, my idea, my good days. then leave me alone so I can ruin them.

 I do not recall the first word I spoke

nor the second, third, however many

however few collected petals that blew

off my mouth into the radiance of said spectacle

to no avail I forget with reckeless abandon

many other first checkpoints, tracks of progress

civilized installement might one betray

should fancy, substance or love enter your being

medicate at once my friend, at once uproot and be

on the uptake and lift off before the timestop sand runs out.

these were not fences that we sought out to ignore

a new confession, this hurdles are a sight of misdirection

that we presently resolve only to surrender

adressing by playing dumb

when it appeases you.

 

carry stock but not for the hungry

nor the poor much less because I ought to

I simply felt like adding weight to my task

value in delaying my step and transmutating worth

with coin, with token decorative vases and purses

so-so we dangle, we debacle and we exchange

a row, a rouse and a futile intervention

nothing too serious and most pertinent to state

it has nothing to do with you,

good day.