what the actual fuck is going on

 i thought i knew my poems well

but i read them now

and they taste stale

foreign words from a foreign mind.

i guess i am different now

new and improved, whatever the fuck that means.

i cannot make these bands play any louder, out of any speaker

because my white noise is the loudest

on the measure of the threshold of pain

my ears do not bleed

but i swear

my soul shakes

and i let it

because shaking is better than 

sleeping under covers and covers of 

all i have done that i will never

ever undo

i tried to be someone -

what the fuck does that mean?

these words, they are rolling through my mind and i do not know anymore

bahasa apa saya cakap, 

l'ombre viens, et je l'accepte

todas as vezes... 

pain is a friend,

pain is the housemate that leaves the dishes unwashed

and steals your tobacco yet judges you for drinking

and borrows money for rent yet never gets more milk when it is finished

the friend you get tired of, and try really hard

to bite your lip and not fucking bitch about

because you know how he feels

and yes, pain is a man

because only men can stand what we do to them.

i am a feminist who wishes i was a man

i do not identify with anyone or anything

i am hollow

like a husk

like a dead sea shell

i am the feminist that spits at your equality hype, you girls

i am proud that men exist and without them

we would know no love

don't talk to me until you know this

women disgrace me, if they think any less

of the other half of the universe

and to hurt a man

is the biggest sin a woman can ever do

call me submissive, and i will chain you to your bed

bitch

and fuck you with a man of my choice

fuck you

i hate who i am now but i kind of like her

this dead soul

who has so much life

resenting what i stood for and able to rebel with my own self

i am still getting to know her

33 years of age and still wondering if i learnt a damn fucking thing.

i learnt that i am never alone

tribe or death

or ancestors

it is all the same

their words are constant in my ear

my own personal tinnitus

melodic and static to its best as long as i turn down 3khz

and i learn to colour my white noise

and give them meaning

i guess that is why i became a sound engineer.

frequencies

they shake me

they break me

they heal me

but is my frequency healing?

or do i simply destroy what is there

is it necessary?

am i needed at all?

what the fuck am i doing here?

these seconds of calm

there is something peaceful in the grey

the clouds are heavy with emptiness
the weight of the planets lift
as they align.

the weight of you
shifts
as the door of my mind
slams shut behind you

i am boy harsher's rhythm.

there is chaos in this calm
the rain stands still on
hair that never dries
beds never made in rooms that
never breathe
there i lie with sciatica that never heals on these
broken meridians

this heart no longer breaks but
it still aches from time to time
from too many cigarettes and strange liquids that burn,
burn and burn.

sometimes i see where we all go in the end
and i like what i see
the mountains
the taste of sea and smell of ocean spray behind my song
the time i travel is not that far beyond
yet it is always the travel back to now
that takes another bite out of my soul
and time suddenly seems to run out

sometimes it feels like it could be just simply easier
to stay there
and let myself run out.

how i died and lived

 hi mate.

it's been a while.

guess you watched me grow up

as you stayed 16

where you left me to live where you died

a little bit of me

a horcrux i never wished for.

i bet you have so much to tell me

so much you seethe over.

i bet you are ashamed that i lived this long

sometimes.

because i think sometimes

you could've done it better.

i remember how you used to hold me when i 

couldn't deal with the sunlight

on my tenth day of insomnia

my eyes burnt

and i never burnt under the equatorial sun.

how you came and showed me the black under my table

we crouched there for hours

you and i

words etched on every ikea board seperating us from

total carnage of putting me into the world

together we created the abyssmal bottomless pit we so loved to live in

together.

the trucks never had good enough brakes in malaysia

and one of these days

they will hit me, i had hoped

every time i stepped in front of them

raping purity 

and fucking the world off

for all its hate.

you kept me from the demons

and the crashes

you kept me for yourself

you saved me for your own wish for death.

i remember you sitting with me

our feet dangling over 5 storeys of apartment

ready to fall

never afraid

because death already lay behind us

on the parquet floors of the bedroom

i think our blood is still there

between the gaps

you gave me clarity

i looked at you

bathroom mirror.

you looked at me

and said it's simple. 

turn the tap on and cut a small but deep fucking hole

and down the hole

you will lose your parents and their fucking hatred of each other

of you

of everything good in life

down that hole

you will find life

because this life, the B between A to C

is not worth fucking living at all.

I am at C now.

I still think like that sometimes, but I know it 

is just a memory

it is just you

reminding me, that I can always choose

but I have two dogs, one cat, 3 humans and many more

that i really fucking love

and for the first time in my life

i am scared

of suicide

my best friend, 16 years of age

you saved me

with our death

and sometimes i wish you weren't there.

but i am so glad you are.

because without you

i would be dead.

another fucking one.

 another fucking one.

another chunder of words,

like today's music i no longer listen to

like Rishi's bullshit

another episode.

another blackout, a sky without stars

another night turning into day

another parasitical mental sciatica

she cries, laughs, whispers, shouts, 

screams, breathes, fucks, lives

like me.

down the hole where Layne Staley is still singing

only to me

sitting with the spirits that claim me.

this is a wonderful world

so thin the line to the other side

parallel realities

wrongly wired circuits from

wrongly drafted diagrams to begin with

maybe the wonderful world is all about

creating it new from the mistakes

maybe it just is without mistakes

when does the line shift like tectonic plates

when does the line ever stay solid?

when will i learn to stay behind it

and when i do, am i in the right reality?

the rain pours to the left

and i let myself sway with it

damp, this mind

it collects water

and weighs heavy on my shoulders

holding words that refuse to leave my tearducts

for relief

this mind i called my own

i am the last tenner in a wallet

i am the dust in tobacco pouches

i am the last sip of Jack Daniels

i am the last lickable contents of a bag

i am the hollow inside you.

manchester days

how they fill me with a certain void sometimes

it feels like home

i am genuinely happy here i think

but sometimes

i get lost in all the grey.

she knows the roads and shortcuts well

she knows this city like the back of his hand

until today i still refer to myself in third person

when i am not very proud of the things i have done

it is easier to go through the judgment

the heavy sorrow

the scars i build 

that tattoos cannot cover

the wounds that piercings cannot fill

she looks at me

and i paint her eyes

to hide the shadows behind them.

to want.

 

Fingers shaking
Brain fuzzing
I feel the anger but I'm still stagnant
In my own resistance
I was a warrior and now I am weak
I watch evil slip past my fingers when I could have stopped it passing through by
Simply clenching my fist
I never knew I was so designed
By the social norms and upbringings that never were meant to let me live a life I chose
Because every upbringing is to feed a perfect extortionate system
I was embarrassed for awhile that I believed I was a punk
When I stepped out and stared from the shadows at things unwinding where they shouldn't
I stopped speaking out and I stopped knowing what to say
I forgot my words my brain my self
I left it all behind on a dark alleyway
Some people found my broken pieces and found it worth it to piece me up again
And now I'm whole im still convinced that something's missing because my brain was fixed the same
I hope I will become the person i was when I was 16 again
That girl knew what she wanted and death was the only way to live again
I want to be great in all I do
I want to be the person that gives without losing
I want to take what I know I can take without
Feeling like a thief or taking more than life gave
Who am I to judge
Life gives everything
Who am I to say
I don't deserve any of it?
Maybe I was brought up this way
But there is still space in my empty gaps that will correct this mistake
I don't believe in family because mine was unbelievable
I believe in love and finding love on the way
32 years of age, I still feel like a child
So many things I haven't learnt and never will
I hope I can be my best
Whatever that is
I want to make them smile
I want to learn to truly love with all my heart
Without the social manuals of how it's supposed to be
Because I never will know how it will be
That's the whole point of life isn't it?