Look me in the eye…

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I have forgotten
the hang of writing poetry
as I master my craft
in silencing vowels from breaking out
and taming restless hurricanes in my eyes.

the crumbs dripping from my fingers
form a trail behind my
lethargic pen,
crafting shapes on stained papers,
and the leftover residue
mocks my game
as I crawl behind ellipses.

black petals sprouts
between the cracks in similes,
but I stop at no cost
plastering fake metaphors
at every distinguished rest stops
to mask miseries.

and if yet you are unable to decipher
the depth in the folds of my stare
that ricochet on empty barrels;
you simply speak words
that holds no feelings,
since my words have stopped forming sentences
to ears that hold a smile
behind compassion.

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you and I can never be a melody of soothing lyrics.

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I pulled,
yet another verb
from the white lifeless canvas-
and the origami in my hands,
took flight.

I watched it
from my doorstep;
unknowingly
waiting for a
non-existent footstep.

you see,
the rose in my hands
knew how to draw blood;
playing
you love me not,
while watching random shows
of couples kissing
under the moonlight-
a dream
I dreamt
not too long ago.

do you mind?
let’s paint nothing
in this blackened night sky-
and laugh
as the stars diagonally shoot
lightening bolts
in our depressed monologue.

but it all ends
as the foam bubbles out
from my lips;
and the more I convince
you are there for me,
the more you vanish
leaving behind tiny imprints
of faded graffiti
on my staccato brain.

listen;
to this deliberate cacophony
of my disembarked hopes
and compose a melody
with my silly love notes.

but wait till
I wash ashore,
so that you can find my chipped promise
in my palm;
crumbled… yet beating
in the name of you.

dear,
for the last time,
can you sleep with me
in the folds of my sleepless nights
and color
my life in the shade of your eyes?

for I have lost
the hang of being alone;
since you have never
left me
yet you are nowhere I can see.

I know,
if you put a bullet into my head
and as I bleed crimson giggles;
you will still be there
warming my bare bones,
but laughing with the others
for pushing me down.

can you do me a favor?
as the new star dawns out on the horizon…
can you vanish like the rhinestones
from my liquid vision
that seems to dry even more than
last year

I do have a desire
to die leaking pink sonnets;
than mosaic smiles.

The breathing sculpture.

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There she stands in the outer edge corner, shadowed by her comrades, laughing at the joke that was displayed like a medusa head about her pot bellied expression of witless dreams and stained memories that lost its luster with too many sweets.

Once everyone turns to encore the moving articles around them, a tiny colorless melody drips from her eyes that have met and seen many intricate colored metaphors for her lifetime to suck her dry.  She wipes it away without disturbing the graceful black stroke that has outlined her mirror; with the color of her soul.

And she stands, with her hands crossed and legs slightly titled like a moon unsure of how he should come out for the party tonight. Her dress hangs loose and the stretched her already curved impression making her hard to breathe as the hues in front of her laugh; choking her to death.

She dances in the bathroom mirror, squeezing arrhythmic steps into her overloaded heart and the beat just jarred the cacophony even further.

Yet, with her renewed makeup and strength; she rises like a phoenix with a smile to kill soldiers in their best armor. Yet, when alone in the sanctuary of her confinements, she lost all her lustrous rhinestones to the sky who cried with her that night.

Everyone admired the starry skies.

Somehow I miss the spark.

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the dancing orbs in front of me

sing a song, in the rain,

I hear the rat a tap

that resonates through my brain

 

why do I feel like the morning is so far away

when the moon has only come.

 

oh its right,

I have not had my night time caffeine,

that makes me sane

even with my bloodshot eyes.

 

the scandalous moon light

break through the torrent of my saved tears,

and when I find the stars-

I am too late into the abysmal song…

too wasted to even smile

when the moon comes shaking her hands with me.

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I am so drunk with boredom and this is… just at the moment write. laugh with me or say I am foolish but don’t come preaching me I am wrong and worse 🙂 Let’s be friends in praising each other’s weirdness 😉

Nothing better to do.

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So, I was just like, sitting here in the rain at one am in the morning, waiting for some miracle to take me far away from my sinister thoughts and decaying metaphors and wished to open a new blog to write my musings alone and stop my former one; i.e, this one. But, upon reaching here I saw, I have two new followers and that makes me 75 followers, not bad!

But, I never began this blog with the intention of more followers, fame or something like that. I just made this blog to post in my shitty musings of a poem and look if I can impress people. Most of my life, I was like that and I am still now… wondering, waiting, wishing, for people’s support, suggestions, encouragement and good luck. I still want them and when I get a comment saying something genuinely, I still skip a beat.

And I am still confused, mad and cold. My mom is sleeping and in fact, everyone is sleeping. But, I am here, sitting, eating a snickers bar, alternating between writing a horror paranormal book and writing this blog. I don’t even know why I am writing this in the first place, but… here I am, still continuing and I wonder if people will read this. What will they think after reading this? Oh, that reminds me, I still can’t like and follow certain people.

It sucks to be stuck in a loophole of doing the same things and never once stepping out from the giant wheel but dare not advise me to make a move since ever since I knew I am stuck and circling; I have tried to break out but I am still here… in this forsaken hour, writing something that is not what I wanted to when I began this blog post.

WOW…

sigh!

 

G’night or G;morning 🙂

…and my cries died in the wails of nature’s misery…

 

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I am bound by the cartilage of winter’s eerily molded teardrops that drop once in a while as if a reminder pinning on my eyelashes saying, careful- my family’s on the way to cheer you up this dull gray morning.

As if that doesn’t deprive me of the beautiful things that I could be but didn’t choose to.

The dawn does weep Christmas wishes and I hear laughter echoing through the plain walls of my house, from miles apart; and the unmistakable giggling of over enthusiastic children.

My heart couldn’t bear anymore the rhyming of two rhythmic soul’s catapulting in each other’s calligraphic aura through rosy hues.

I draw unbroken heart shapes in the breath of ‘nature’s’ long echoing sigh on my bleary window but was easily mastered by another wave of agonizing misery of her wailings.

I lost the last heart again.

And after umpteenth effort, I stretch my sleeves hard enough to cover my finger tips listening numbly to the ripping of my heart. This sweater covering my feeble body from the desecrated cold has seen its better days. So, I ignore her protest in wanting to cover my fingers.

Somehow I feel like a mannequin stuck inside a clock; unable to move without being slapped by the needles.

And you are a parchment paper in which I have written my suicide notes as a will to the roses that have stopped whispering my name in your hands… but you give me them anyways since you can’t bear the thought of the thorn piercing into your bones, tattooing my tragedy.

Dear silence, bid me farewell to the moon where shadows don’t backbite and bicker.

Let me paint melancholy in the desolate part of the night sky and die a bluish death… so that I can smile happily believing that I just stopped becoming a story as the ink died in my veins.

Hello blog.

 
I’m not sure what am I supposed to write today. No, I don’t know what I should ever write. There is too much to say in my mind. Not to someone, you see. I mean the things that I want to say is not to someone but myself.
You see, people are strange creatures. No matter how hard we try to impress, they mock us. No matter how pressingly we address the issue, there will be something to put us to shame. No matter how hard you try to express your emotions; whatever it may be, sadness, grief, guilt, anger, pain…. no matter what emotions… they either act as if they understood or they might give us the pity stare and then they will laugh behind our back.

So, I have stopped talking and started being silly and laughing queen. So, you know what they say about me? I am so happy… ok, I can live with that. But they also say, ‘she is so stupid. Why can’t she act her age?‘ wow!¡ That’s… wow…

I just don’t know blog… life is too damn straight at times that er just go with the flow and suddenly we alone are hit with a huge barricade and we are forced to see… everyone else that was with me; to climb the mountain and reach somewhere. But for me? I am forced to take the helluva roller coaster ride with damn too many twists and turn.

Sometimes, I just quit… I just can’t.

And when I read about articles that should help me… I am confused even more. Not satisfied. How am I supposed to create positive thinking and live with it when all I ever have is bad… bad thoughts?

But no matter how horrible the day and life may be… I have learned to smile and laugh in the end and then cry when I am in the darkness; alone.

Life can be as bad as anything but I will go on as long as I can tape the broken pieces of my heart together.

Meet you again blogg 🙂