Ash fluttering
to the sound of
fan whirring
i am myself
by twisting out of myself

an empty plate
filled with contemporaries
one minute i'm there
one minute i'm not

a car alarm cuts through
the 3.43am silence
with a vicious slash
and the weak, flickering light
on the thirteenth floor of
a distant building call out to me like
warning like

i exhale
smoke whispering to
the night
a flick of my finger
i feel like i am falling
ash fluttering
exploding to the ground


my body is tired
a thousand years of insomnia plaguing my eyes
my spine is on fire.

i curl up, my mind is in tangles
i curl up
but cannot shut off
uncleansed thoughts pursuing
my every blink

my nails are jagged and
scabs keep layering over
wounds i keep renewing
my body is tired
my body is tight
my body is old
and my mind is exhausted.

i float
i sink
will i never taste euphoria
on the brim of my lips again?

my muscles are straining
i cannot move
and my skin is tearing apart
at least, feels like it.

my body is tired
so tired
and my mind wants to die.


there are no expressions to express
no descriptions to describe
to despise to resent to hate
the way you stuff silence down my throat
and regurgitate out false acclaims
of obedience.

you scrutinize me under
microscopic perspective
but you miss out the fundamental
because i have become accustomed
to hiding them well
so you scrutinize a blank sheet of
human remains
without ever understanding
who i am.

i find satisfaction now
in tearing up things that mean a lot to you
and mean a lot to me - supposedly
but i don't feel as easily now
used to slapping concrete on my heart
and i am less prone to getting hurt the way
i can make you hurt

you've forgotten what
i've seen what
i've been and how long
i have dwelled in the dark

i am used to immorality
so what you feed me is nothing short of

you are trying to pull me back
to sanity
but doing it all wrong

one day you will crack and
go insane
and i will be free

bitter tunes

your double vision is clear and
your breath is heavy
with trying not to tear apart
i am trying not to tear apart.

it is not just a song that
threatens my heartbeat
but the thousand memories scraping at me
until i bleed inside and i can
taste the iron on my lips from when i
licked my self-inflicted wounds
to escape that night.

your eyes are burning and
your lips are dry
from keeping in desperate chokes
i am trying not to choke on
my tears
the tears that no longer show but
they are always there
on the tip of my eyelashes and
in a place where my heart cannot find.

it is not just a song that reminds me of you
it is not just a song that reminds me of
how much i hurt
there was a time when my mind died and
the song was playing like the soundtrack of
last seconds

i am the reminder of all that haunts me


the city is exploding with
crashes and
colour bombs
the view from where i stand,
where my cigarette smoke
can paint the sky
for special effects.

it is time for superwoman to
rescue the world
i play the game to feel sure of my make believe
for the city isn't really exploding
merely fireworks to celebrate the
irony of me
my cigarette smoke is just
cigarette smoke
i am no superwoman
no one to save but myself

but i just want to make my
jump from a torturous dream
sound a little better than
an end
and trying to claw for reasons
much more believable.

thoughts of a nocturnal

sometimes when you don't sleep
you spend the day up in a
wandering through hours of
reveries in waking
your mind is asleep and
your body's on auto-mode
it helps you through days
you don't want to be aware of
like everydays and
moments you live in.

you spend the day counting sheep
like lost causes because when it
is time to sleep
the sheep have run out
and you are back to wishing
you are asleep from the world
when the sun is shining
too bright to make me feel at home.

i don't belong in my dreams
but there is no place in reality
to fix myself within so i swallow myself in
and live timeless days

because things heal sometimes without