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

everyday.

dive

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

high

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

motionless

because things heal sometimes without

progression.

happy new year

i kiss seconds

goodbye and watch days pull further

away from me

tugging like an imaginary rope

from my mind

for the gap widens but the memory stains deeper with

each expansion

and everything about the way i feel

sustains

despite a new year

i am a new slap in the face

an ugly reminder of what i am now

and why

because during a time when everybody

gleefully bounce on

resolutions

i continue crashing deadends because

i was once so certain

there was a way through.

i disowned the ability

to reverse and start over

a new year

an old wound

bedroom

i imagine kissing other boys

knowing the taste won't be the same

they are only imaginations.

i bite my tongue until it hurts too much

to speak

and i keep my thoughts inside of me

knowing that's the best solution

my thoughts will give the world a migraine.

i try to sleep but

i can't

so i drink and

consume and pull myself

up to a different high

until i am numb to

reality

and allow dreams that have

long died

to plague my mind

like cancer

the hair on my skin

prickling like warning

but i do not feel cold

it is like my body no longer finds the

need to send signals

to my mind

it is like swallowing back explosives

until i grow expressionless

and i am deteriorating and

crumbling inwards

like cancer.

my energy draining but

i don't feel tired

i hold onto solid, heavy things to stop my

fingers twitching;

i shut myself up until

the weight on me is physically painful

heavy.solid.

eating me up.

when i hurt so badly it

tears me down

at least i can remind myself

i have emotions

despite it all.

timeless

i have deceived myself

a million times in

believing i can swallow back

the cutthroat memories

of you

i bluntly decline when they ask me to

retell my story with you

our story,

that merely betrays my words

and playback like a faulty cassette player

that skips to parts that

break me most.

behind the scenes footages

flashing moments of me

cowering in a pile of my own

debris

clutching the phone with

your last message stabbing my gut

i realize i am seizing up in miniscule fits

in the exact same position

it is cruel how one thought

trails to another

and in the blink of an eye

i physically strip and

tear from your

filthy ways of

infliction.

the bitter taste of iron in my

mouth when i

threw up blood and

poured out pain through

my eyes

for you.

i bluntly decline retelling

stories of you

while they constantly ruin

me from within

never stops.

i am a mutated piece

of permanence

violated and signed more than once

by you.

it's not going away

it's not fucking going away.

the time you walked away and i pathetically lowered myself to fit under your scale the nights i tore myself open and bled dry your

voice your

skin

your ruthless appetite

to taste me when i was

at my weakest

your laugh the

ugly sarcasm you named love and

filled me with

until i exploded

inwards.

it's not fucking going away.

it doesn't end there

your words hit me like a

one-sided collision

those kind that creates the friction

of me stumbling backwards and

hiding behind doors

they settle slowly in ways that

does not hurt but

numb

.it is the aftermath of

numbing to pain that

crushes and hurts like a bitch.

I don't see a reason for hurting myself

when you have so pleasantly offered to

do the job.

you could get a promotion

- you're that fucking good.

motion

I have learnt the art

of blending within the sheets of

my slightly slanted bed

and not waking up without

ever sleeping

slanted because i like sleeping against the

left wall for fear of falling.

i have captured the ability to minimize

abilities and i have not written a personal

poem in weeks

i have not written in weeks.

i shut down because it is safer

crushing myself lower to a point

familiar

than trying to climbclimb

climb and never make it

i get sick of my words

because they tell me the same stories

in different verses

in a different rhyme

but they still make me close my eyes

and see things i despise.

I have found a way to

pull myself away from this

closure

but it would take away my honesty

and disguise me with fake smiles

and unrealistic

hope.

listen

you know you have

turned inside out when

you start to listen to silence

as a favourite routine, a daily tune

and you hate those voices of comfort.

leave me.

leave me alone.

sometimes if you listen hard enough

you might just hear another

star explode

and fall

this is how we get fallen stars beside us

and blackholes in the sky.

there are certain sounds that

scare me

like the creak of a door

or the distant horn of a truck

and memories

memories of his heart beating

like a lullaby beside me.

so i reside myself to

loud crashed of thunder and constant

whirrings of a fan

just so i might be able

to wrench all those memories

away from my

mind

because i am sick of my screams

when i awake from

a favourite nightmare.