mask

i am shaking like an earthquake
a hundred years away
falling like a suicide
off the high end

wherever i land will be
wherever i decay
and my fingers are clawing, clawing
clawing again

ten thousand emotions
but not one significant enough
and i am shaking, shaking
shaking away all the bad thoughts
and all the bad dreams
all the bad thoughts
all the bad dreams
but they stay
they stay
they rise and balance on the pit of my mind
where i was dumped with a large pile of
ragged hope and misled directions
where do i go
where do i stop
where do i start
where do i look

i am shaking
shaking like an earthquake
seconds away
and i cannot find the reason
to what got me here in the first place
where did i stumble
where did i crumble
the scar from the past
the black of it all
the hurt from it all
the pain the hate the pure shit

it's all coming back
it's all coming back
stale and tainted
i cannot fucking do any better
can't fucking do any better
i am stumbling
and crumbling
again.

stop me before i hit the bottom
because i am sick of climbing back up
just to breathe again.

char

the screeching in my ears
from the emission of the TV
on the other side of the room
is muted and thick
and i feel like i am
drowning underwater.

i cannot even tell if the frequencies are
shattering my insides
i cannot tell if this is pain
it is one of those nights
where every minute expands
and every touch is numb
and every thought is
set aside to collect dust
making room for the nonsensical foreplay of my mind
to tease its way
into my centered conscience
until i break apart
and feel
ashamed
for being weak
disgusted
for being out of self control
again.

it is one of those nights.


-------------------

relief.

The Realm of Bewilderment: Poems in Podcast

Hello musers,

I present to you two of my poems featured in my friend's independent podcast.

The Zone of Bewilderment 4

In it features 'I Can Hear Them Flutter' and 'The Figure in the Fog' which Rylan has so kindly added music to. :)

Happy listening, some nice tunes on there as well!

mental morphine

For a flashburnstrike of a second,
I am widened to senses that
Share your pain,
As your nightmares paint a picture
In my mind
And I scare away my own demons
Because I feel the bareness of yours.

I feel brave, though
Disarrayed,
To touch something once
Strange to me, and I
Embrace its familiarity.

For a flashburnstrike of a second,
I shudder and face your fears
For you.

And I feel alive.

For Us, I Dive, I Soar

These vulgar fears I let take a toll on me,
they discharge like unruly, sticky pleasure
from the barbed wired coils of a certain
chip in my soul that remains
discolored and out of bounds.

I tread carefully and gamble my release
on stepping into a place I once escaped,
hoping to conquer where I once was
defeated.

In there lies the knots of memories
I wish to chop away and
never learn to untangle
for the better of my sanity
and the sanity of my present.

I try, I try,
to never horrify
but I horrify myself with my thoughts
at specific reflective states of
clarity,
where I know I can be
as beautiful and you make me believe,
but I am too exhausted
to make the final jump, so I dangle
mid-air instead,
because it is sometimes a
much more comforting thought
to know if my feet are never on the ground,
I can never lose my balance.

But the comfort shakes
in the center of my nightmares
clawing at my mind
as I claw at your skin
until my wake of stretching inwards
ad screaming a muted,
familiar sound. I recycle
all the dark in me whilst I
still try to shine.

I try, I do try,
to never horrify, especially you,
but there are certain things that will
never rub off
from under the calm of my mind.

I just need to feel
that the language
of the past we share so
coincidentally,
can help you understand
that these scars of time do not mean
we are not healed,
and there is nothing wrong in
learning to live
because we finally want to.

Uprising

Oh, these wretched waves of black,
Drain away from me,
Pull back into the currents built to
Wrench me further and
Stray away from me.
I do not want these curls of,
Tension and whirls of asphyxiation,
Plaguing me again,
Like the last time,
And the last time,
And the last and the last and the last
and the last and the last fucking time.

Oh, these wretched waves of black,
Do not drown me,
Not when I have finally learnt
To breathe out of water.

Please.

Succulence

One day, I decided to
stop painting the image of
a world I expect,
beginning instead,
to paint over existing flaws,
learning how to keep their charm of
imperfect beauty,
learning also to morph their ways
to the best of my perspective.
There are days when grey skies
become grey moods,
but I decided to
look through such narrow blinds
and accept that grey is at least
better than black.

I laugh when they tell me love
is selfish
because my happiness is not for me
but conjured from seeing it
reflected in your eyes,
knowing it is because I am here,
around.

fragile

i touch the trickle of time
and visit its cold metal of
a familiar fear,
its hands twitching against
a stagnant face that stares
me down, urging me inwards and
away.

i wish the sounds that form
on my lips, were not
shadowed with hesitance
but instead, shone,
with a confidence i still
fail to unbury from beneath my skin.

i curl in every time
i feel the pressure
of myself dismantling.

it is such a beautiful sight
when the first thing i see
are those eyes
that move me,
each day i am gifted a chance
to open up to a world with you,
and i don't deserve anymore
than the trust i placed
in every breath we share.

i stutter and slip
on my thoughts,
unknowing of how to express
the intense growth of passion
colliding inside me
whenever you kiss my forehead
and daringly promise me your efforts.

promises that mean
so much more,
promises i hold onto
and cherish,
promises i try to claim
but do not need,
because knowing you are
by my side
is the only promise i ever need.

Release

there is a time and place for
everything, they tell us,
because the situations we create
do not always end the way we
expect, and they will
forever be changing;
forever rearranging,
for we live in a world full of
snap-of-my-finger moments
and minds we cannot read.

because in this world,
a constant is hard to find.

yet as i lie here,
in a bed full of
comforting warmth and
sheets that smell
of us,
holding you in my arms
as we try to
squeeze the pain away,
i tell myself with a smile that
i can be this way, doing exactly
what we do,
every millisecond of every day,
because there is no need for
a time and place
to feel my heart
try to beat stronger
for the both of us.

because in our world,
you are my constant.

there is a time and place,
they say,
for certain emotions to let loose,
but i find myself
unmasking and baring all of me
to you,
and i am not afraid
of being afraid around you
because i know you see right through
the flaws, finding the constant
of strength
i try to hold onto
for you.

there is a time and place for
everything, they tell us,
but there is no need for
time nor place
in my horizons of you,
because you are my home
and i find
everlasting, neverending, overwhelming, timeless joy
spinning me towards beautiful eternity
when i shut the windows,
turn off the lights,
close my eyes,


and live in you.

3

we carry on the seal of our lips
the string of a many unspoken
meanings
that caress the stress of
our minds as we
spark every molecule that
resonate and collide
on the smooth of our palms when
they touch

we hold in our hearts
every beat that creates itself
for us

in circular motions, our emotions
they revolve and
recur

the rise and fall, they will continue to
shape us and shade our colours
until we are running in parallels
at full speed

we hold in the palm of
all that is us
eternity
and all that shines with it.