blindly convinced that I contain some kind of god-like charm
Chlorinated water Spreading its wings and seeping into my eyes Expecting me to see clearer And I trace lines on your arms Like on a sandy shore Knowing that the tide might soon hamper progress Undressing and garnishing it with new garments Helping it evolve Or degrade Disillusion drifts me to a far-off distance The doubt I shed like summer rain Comes back with the disappearance of the markings Comes back like a hailstorm Cracking windshields Behind which I firmly rested my empty eyes A kingdom of my insecurities But I still wait For the water to magically purify And lose its shade of blue Because you and I know It isn’t real.
I’ll flatten mountains Swallow the seas Won’t you pull the curtain Open the door for me? Golden apples Will bend into wires God never estimated the prowess Of someone who smokes packs of liars.
I met her today She never seemed more alive For me, it was like magic A card, a rabbit, a heist And the ability to change my ways. I met her in a penitentiary My personal, self-built cell She resembled what they call life Like flurry in metropolitan afternoons Like hope in the mind of a child Permanently there.
The view from the balcony A gathering with thoughts like cancer cells Corrupting things that rub elbows Walking their pets Only photographic purposes Neatly enveloped in the want of Ribboned adultery.
Life will make you feel like a vegan at a dinner table Trying to make a difference In an indifferent world Out of 7 billion people, you will attain heaven?
Birthday like setting Void of merriment Drunk, alone, convulsing Blur. Did God ever feel this way?
Summer’s stench strips bare Winter’s wraith wrestles certainty As if Convolution conceded Like the national notion of normalcy It’s simply make believe. And the population picks up arms Awakens Fights Disintegrates And Surrenders. Only leaving the same stench behind.
I know a lot of people Most of them can propose a spaceship Brown people dressed as Jesus Christ They all wear a Kohinoor on their hip All of them have no money, but a taste for supermodels A long for grabbing what’s out of hand. Backpackers, weed enthusiasts, people who put their eyes where their mouth is They’re all for sex and condolences They are all a victim of their fathers’ friends Always waking up to a chagrin.
With pure intentions Hopefully tragic eyes And the feeling of safety Somersault into this world. Greeted with commotion Honks blaring “goodbye” Colour defined jail cells I fluttered inside a cage. Distributed religion Idol worship Idle worship Idyll feeling Really?
Your lips are wearing clothes of poison Lover, soothe me But the numeric system is hopeless We can't be one. Your eyes are wearing the suit of a prosecutor But the witness stand is where we all lie We can't be one.
When the streetlights flicker And animosity picks up speed When security diminishes And contracts become obsolete That’s when I gather myself That’s when I come together An alliance of body and mind.
I'm sleepy, but the circles around my eyes need maintenance If not that What the hell will we count The teeth marks on your chest? Or the times I gave you childlike names? At the finish line, we’ll always erupt in a fight And I I’ll always surrender in acceptance.
I shouldn’t have that tremor in my voice I pay my taxes I shouldn’t have that shiver in my knees I pay my taxes. I pay my taxes For you to send them to school I pay my taxes For you to have shiny shoes. And the reason I feel unsafe Is because I pay my taxes. The reason you’re plutocratic Is because You didn’t ask me to But I paid my taxes.
Can we all pretend we're fine Wear makeup and smile our best smiles Smell roses Accept them with the thorns they come with Can we all get drunk and question everything Duty of youth is to pretend that we're fine Because if we actually think that we are We'll miss out on things that matter most.
I smell like cigarettes, alcohol, and this girl I met yesterday Lust and intimacy intertwined Transformed into another self-loathing exercise Another drill of one-two Another come down at three-four.
If I could crawl in I would Just to discover every inch Imitate my design like a slimy bug Transcend mentally and become invisible Because that's how I feel With you And to them, the word will feel derogatory But they don't know what it's like To live in a land Where every face looks alike Where everything is static Like your daily cable news But with you, it's simple And simple is all I want to do.
I like my God with a message My hugs with a scent A scent that lingers on my shirt Until I pass out at 3 AM And when I wake up It’s still there like a hangover But the good kind I’m 23 and this awful feeling comes around often It stays there Like revolutionary teens Like sexually perplexed young adults Because what they see on the telly Doesn’t tell them how they should be It keeps on lingering It keeps on touching me I like my hugs with a scent I like you more than all the puffery they print.
When you asked me if there was something wrong I nodded, side to side But there was You're damn right there was and is I thought if I never spoke about it You would never know But that's when you held me close Maybe you knew Maybe that's why you asked me in the first place.
Do you remember? The pressure of feeling weightless On the payroll of indolence Carving relentless passion on our barks Clashing with the feeling of feeling alive. All yesterday.
Shapeshifting Without changing form One part, a product of our time's convolution The other, a product of disregard and volatility. Who am I, You’ll never know. Even I.
Flowing with violent grace Carving rocks, helping them form Changing their shape Whilst following my trail. At the end of us, You won’t recognise yourself.
The mark on your shoulder reminds me of my past The way I dug myself inside The way I hid, completely discrete. The mark on your shoulder reminds me of a time When everything made little sense When a little sense was just enough.
I want to fill you up with metaphors With cheap wine With expensive conversations I want to fill you up with excitement In cheap avenues In ordinary neighbourhoods. Thinking we can both be the lord’s favourite.
I have been playing games with the moon With a patch on his eye, he grins like a villain from an era gone by The only commodity I procured from the flea market Was an unfading blanket of a feeling of competition. We’ll play till he rips his guts out.
I go on for days Wheels in motion With no sign of stoppage anywhere near All the distance sometimes makes me forget The colour of your eyes But I remember the way they pierced into me The way the stars aligned perfectly Behind your broken aura. That impactful allure That ‘punch me in the face’ allure. Waiting for a nosebleed.
Feed me some of your marinated sin Like I'm the king And you're the queen of bees Tell your minions to whir around and etch my name In languages none of us can read This is what extravagance feels like. That is what spending more than you have feels like. Isn't that all there is to life anyway?
A feisty quarrel between Body and mind My hands are begging to grasp Persecuting my brain And has lately become dominant And under this scrutiny My mind still holds its ground And grabs my hands by the shoulders Snapping it out of wanting what it shouldn’t. But then again, These hands still want. These hands still beg to grab.
It seems as though Our corruption has enabled the withdrawal of the starry blanket And no amount of pull can ever help us be warm Under our mirth, we display a longing possessed by wandering ghosts Left dangling in between, neither here, wanting to be there Where forever lies Ever so appetitive. Wanting to plunge deep within I remember finding your breezy silhouette And realisation crashed with the might of bricks I didn’t need to slither there Forever had come hunting for me.
We slip different masks, according to the gear we have adjusted One and five, faces dissolve on their own accord Momentary humans, mortal beings Mortal words, how can you say my definition is the same as yours? Love for me is saving a life, it’s not rainbows Hate for me is the pinnacle of emotion, it's not tearing into someone’s skin.
Where does all the happiness reside in this world While it rests, is it fleeting? Or is it also looking to mate? So far gone are we as humans We hate and break our spirits with our pinpointed eyes, staring at a spiral suitcase It's where your feelings would hide, If there were any Stuck in the realistic chokehold of unconditional gloom Maybe I look good in blue.
Emotions have started to pay rent In astonishment and perpetual longing Astonished for I can’t grasp the feeling Failing each time, growing miserable after each course Then longing comes knocking Barging through like I owe it something Still broke, you’d figure I’d buy a new house But I can’t even afford a new door.
Slippery thoughts keep skipping You pin me down for my red rabbit eyes Now living possesses a sheen of poignancy Corroding away like leaky foundations Old, slow and tumors in me You wrap my eyes and then envelop me Sitting inside a deep, calm tunnel The walls as dark and soft as velvet I forget what it truly means to see.
Behind the fall of velvet curtains Rest an anxious row of people in black and white As I lay on a cushion of murky thoughts They frolick and trapeze behind secret doors. Sipping shadowed water in crimson bars Swaying in and out of presence and belonging I hear lathered ghosts trying to elope Just another night on Mars.