A dichotomy

 

I never sat in St. Paul’s with you
And gazed up at the cracked stained glass
I never ran on the basketball court with you
And laid up the sun-kissed basketball
With your feather touch on the golden rim

I never took the stage with the lights on me
But I stood in the shadows pulling levers
And curtains behind the idols shining in your eyes

I never hung out on the roof with your friends
Playing gin rummy during lunch
In lieu of hanging out with my small group
Talking books and whispering dreams
And I always thought I’d choke or cough up a lung
So I sang with my mouth close and my soul
Flying free

I never played the leading man or lady
But always made the quiet audience burst out
In surprised laughter
With my small asides and typecast funnyman jokes
I never talked to you in the hallways
That encompassed our lives back then
Out of fear that my life would end
In my being known

 

But I was always down for quiet walks home
With your brother meandering in tow
Slow through the hill-blessed breeze
And I could always put pen to paper
As no other had ever done for you
And I could pull out your worries like cobwebs
And stretch them out so thin that
They’d break like gossamer wings in the blustery
Winds we weathered.

And in our quiet moments I could sit myself down
At my old piano and play you a song
That reached and tugged and knocked us both over
And mended us in smiles and tears
And we could hold mountains and oceans in our eyes
As we looked at each other
And still find our way back with a wink
and a shake of our souls

But neither you nor I could see the forest
Through the trees and we fell too quickly
Into fear and denial.
I lied, you lied
We both lived curious half-lives in curious little
Half shells
We smiled, laughed and smote our problems
As men must.
We gritted our teeth and shouldered on
As we’d been taught.
And it was only once we emerged through the
Forest and mist
That we realized
That we had emerged on separate shores.

the vices

 

 

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weheartit.com

 

 

I’ve had the same song on repeat
For four days now
And I don’t think I see an end in sight
It fills up the space
That’s always been there
Over time
I’ve filled it with various vices

Writing:
Trying to encapsulate my feelings into words
Imagine in myself the gift of creation

Then Singing:
Choosing harmonies that tug
At my insides like a guitar being broken

I tried talking:
My mirror proved too silent a companion
And no one understood how dangerously we danced

Leaving:
Stepping away from the hurt was supposed
To help me forget
That didn’t work of course,

So I tried drinking:
For a while, the haze of the alcohol acted
As the intended buffer between bad nights and
Painful days
But then it wore out

Smoking:
There was something eerily poetic about sucking
Out the life in me through
An unfeeling stick of herbs and chemicals

Partying:
A wholly different experience that deluded me
Into a state of non-loneliness but was in the end
Empty

Tried weed a few times:
I was cursed each time with a bad high
Where demons and melancholia converged in my mind

And finally sex:
Countless faces and names that I forgot the next day
In hopes they could make me feel
What I couldn’t feel with you

I’ve run through the options
Reached the end of my tether
So I’ve gone back to the beginning
Where it all started

Writing:
How you met me and saw me for who I was
And loved me nonetheless.

 

colorless penguin

 

 

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Up-jumped on half a dozen cigarettes
One for each good deed I’ve done today
Can you see my head held high?
Though not too high perhaps
The sun’s too high
So is the guy walking next to me
Me? I need sunglasses
Cheap reflectors picked up this morning
From the college bookstore
Speaking of books
I need to reread “regeneration”
It’s a gem of a book
One that I’d like to have written myself
Is that how you know what’s a great book?
I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write like that
Not today, not tomorrow, not for ever
I’m stuck writing half-poems like this one
That starts no where and goes no where
Little stationary things
Pointless really
Minute in the grand scheme of things
There I go with the cliches again
I can’t even spell cliches right.
Never figured out the shortcut for the accent
I should have a long long time ago
But then there’s a lot of things
I should have done long
Ago
Perhaps I shouldn’t have eaten that ice cream
Or eaten that pizza
Or eaten that day old bit of left over pasta
Or eaten anything, period
I can seem some belly fat
Though my friends swear I’m still skinny AF
There I’ve done it
I’ve used SLANG in here
If only my 17 year old self could see me
He would run screaming away
And rat me out to my parents
What a little snitch that guy was
I feel like I’d punch him if we met now
Or I’d call him out on his worst
Insecurities
But aren’t those insecurities also mine
17 year old me hasn’t progressed much
Has he?
He’s simply driven up the intensity
Kicked into high gear
I need to get a driver’s license here
Then I won’t have to carry my stupid
Passport to bars
Bouncers should just take my SL license
It’s in English for crying out
Not some obscure, arcane language
Or gibberish
But it might as well be
Kind of like this poem
Which is befuddling me more and more
By the minute
Ugh by brain hurts from all
Pontificating
Is it cold out? There’s a snow storm looming
Tomorrow
It’s not cold. I think I need to go out
Yep, that’s what I’ll do
I’ll go out for a cig
And come back in and finish this
God awful truth-retch
Speaking of truth-retch
I wish he honestly just told us what’s wrong,
In at least one emoji.
Colorless Penguin, colorless penguin
decolor yourself no more
there, 17 year old Senura, am I finally profound enough
yet?

 

 

 

 

pic: http://iraville.tumblr.com/

 

 

Les Nuits Fauves

As savage as these nights are
Nothing bites harder
Nor licks its tongue smoother
Than the cold breeze after a midnight tryst with the devil

It’s a cruel, unrelenting world I saw that night
With colors most majestic
And tastes unheard of before
Yet I couldn’t help the feeling
That something was dragging me down as I rose up high

You with your tender ears and
Loving eyes could not possibly understand
Where I’ve been or what I’ve done
When I tell you I’ve been the devil
Or dipped a finger in a cauldron of fire and brimstone

Strike me down
End this fleeting and momentary agony
My knowledge knows no common ground
With your innocence
We were never meant to collide,

Here or today
So when we did,
Here among the most savage of nights
We split
In two
And left.

~ saving your life ~

 

 

You take a cigarette, long and thin, from the pack of Marlboro menthols
That I bought two days ago.
You hold it up between your fingers,
Jauntily, saluting
My cruel addiction to the little soldiers of death
Marching silently in the cold white carton.

You found my pack a few hours ago
Dropped accidentally by the pool
Where we spent a hazy island summer’s day burning
Our colors and skins
You picked up the miniature coffin
And looked inside
Seeing it was almost new
You pocketed the thing.

You look to me now with your big brown eyes
Hair blowing across your forehead in the strong
Ocean wind
You ask for a light with your mouth clamped shut
Against the light brown filter tip
And wait for me to kill you too

But see this cigarette?
This cigarette treats us differently.
We are not equal in its cold, cruel eyes.
I am an old friend of its.
I know every groove and fold it holds,
I know ever letter printed boldly on the carton’s back
Admonishing and daring me
But you know nothing.
You know nothing of the power it holds
Or the power it grants
You know absolutely nothing of the sentence you’re taking up
Or the life you will live
Victim to its strength
Culprit of your self-crime.
This cigarette treats you different
And this cigarette does not become you.

Give me the pack
And the death sentence you hold so tightly between your lips
For you, for you who found me among the lost and found
For you who returned me home
I would gladly bear the world
Or bite the proverbial bullet.
I would gladly inhale my lungs full of tar and nicotine
If it means saving a life.
If it means saving your life.

~ november days ~

 

took a trip to clear my mind
now i’m even more lost

lit up the skies with my dreams
and washed away the paper plane trails

give me a bone, give me a bone
hunger’s a bitch and she’s wailing tonight

took a pill to forget the past
now it’s clearer than before

brushed the dregs of regret from my hair
threw the brush into the bonfire last night

hand me a drink, hand me a drink
my throats parched and still trying to speak

downed a few to drown the cries
they’re even louder than before

crawled across your pictures the whole day
ate leftover low Mein and drank the Kool aid

dance with me, dance with me
my legs are aching and i’m tired of feeling bored

 

 

Today

 

I stopped loving him today
His innocence which hurt me
His skewed glasses
And the smiles he flashed

Why today?
Why not yesterday?
Or three weeks ago when you were up at 4.30 AM
Drinking and smoking your life away?
And dancing your soul down?

But today is what matters
Because today you choose to finally let go
You can throw the glass against the wall
And watch the Fireball dripping down the cracks
You can fling away the pack of smokes
And burn the Marlboro Menthols you bought weeks ago
Down to a crisp

Because today marks your first day
Off the dating app you’ve been  addicted to
Off the seedy streets, the sketchy parties
Off the booze and the smokes
Off the faceless girls and guys

Today marks the day
Like X marks the spot
On your meandering map of a life

Today’s the day, I can feel it in my throbbing veins
Today’s the day I give it all up
Because
I stopped loving him today

 

 

~ the nights ~

Recommended: read while listening

 

This world is ancient,
We’ve got no refuge
It’s  all in the pills and the smoking guns
The locks on doors
And churning smiles
The headache of my bedroom sheets
On my bathroom floor

This world is broken,
It’s got knots and twists
Septic fingers and bleeding feet
The carpet burns
And shaking heads
The headache of my bathroom rug
On my bedroom floor

This world is healing
We’re joining hands
We’re sewing drapes and grinding words
The nosebleed slows
And the grimaces stick
The headache of our exhausted world
In our bathroom bed.

Dark Blue

I did type this up yesterday but things got hectic yesterday so I had to postpone this to today.

This was borne out of a sudden yearning for a beach day/pool day and an obsessive listening to “Blue” by Troye Sivan ft. Alex Hope.

Also the anime Free!

Which proved to be rather funny. More so than I expected.

Processed with VSCO with f2 preset

 

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