state of mind

navigates perspective

renders all

in perpetual continuum

of hang tight

hang loose

within three dimension

hold tight

break loose

and aperture darkens

in hazy momentary

passage of mind

and soul

its distorted ray of light

has me glitched

the fourty percent

moonshine

in crimson circulatory

captures my sky

exceeds sorrow

gain sympathy

words spill

into my surreal theme

shatter stained glass

sloppy cutting

the last maggot

in decaying colour

alas, the last molecule

of serotonin fix its aesthetics

before i lose myself again

in a state of mind.

Pic: ©Alexandra Levasseur

•

Nocturnal

•

...like midnight breeze blowing through sheer curtains, a symphony of melancholia...

•

caresses tiny black heart on my wrist, pulsating underneath my cold pale skin..

•

vaporous nostalgia falls with cadence, yield a drop of time-worn emotion, melts aimlessly into thickened grey retrospection... eyes wide shut, murmuring a lost prayer in flowing whiskey till multicellular effect slowly shifting...

•

feverishly tracking the last remnants of our dreams amongst twinkling constellations in valourous night sky and I find myself swaying on the windowsill, whistling sirens down the breeze...

•

Nocturne

...so I can sway at the tip of your lazy pen when you sit quietly, gazing out over the shore of Georgia Strait and a sunbeam slants through your dusty window as the wind whispers in your ears and your reflective soul starts pouring out...

dumping ink and tears all over blank white papers

..telling story of yesterdays..

..our words remain..

•

...an ode to those seemingly endless nights across the Pacific ocean...

•

https://youtu.be/-CMG9OFKtHo

the drumroll

of my heart

imprinted him

to the small

of my back

still sending

shivers

up my spine

white to black

absence has cast

years laced

where tears

pool but

alas i am

...left sliding, biding my time by tracing

him over and over again in my mind...

Could you imagine a worse fate? You gradually begin to forget simple things. You forget to feed the dog. You miss appointment. You forget how to get to the supermarket. You can't remember your daughter's phone number. You forget how to drive. You start to neglect your personal hygiene. What day of the week is it? What month? You don't recognize your grandchildren. What year is it? The nurse is here with your medication. What medication? Why? Until you expire. A fate truly worse than death. That's what a monster does.

I didn’t see it coming.

And it wasn’t at all like what I’d expected.

There were no white hot

knives slicing through,

no blazing wildfires,

no electrifying lightning,

no brutal ripping apart

of the heart and soul,

no spilling of blood,

no tears,

no ocean waves of sadness

to drown in.

None of it.

Just tired grey blood,

flowing slow

into a weary heart,

stopping mid artery

and my forlorn heart turning

a pitiful ash white,

collapsing into a lump

of useless dead muscle

adorned with calcified memories,

almost grateful for this end.

~Let’s count the stars in the sky tomorrow night, when the full moon is at it’s peak.

~Let’s say our pretty goodbyes as each star dies and every inch of the moon glows in its infinite glory. This may be the only forever I can have.

~This won’t matter someday.....

no, it won’t........

-Love?

I FEEL THE GHOST OF EVERY HAND THAT WAS EVER SWATTED AWAY.

I FEEL EVERY FINGER

THAT CRAWLED INSIDE ME

FEIGNING MISUNDERSTANDING.

I FEEL MYSELF FULL WITH WHAT I DID NOT ASK FOR.

FULL WITH DISAGREEMENT,

POURING OUT MY BLOODIED, RAW THROAT.

FULL WITH THE WORDS PINNING ME DOWN.

AND FULL WITH FIRE AT THE REALIZATION THAT THERE WAS TRUTH NAUGHT BEHIND THE WORDS.

FULL WITH FIRE, BRIMMING OVER.

FULL WITH FIRE, POOLING BETWEEN MY LEGS.

FLAMES LICKING MY THIGHS.

LASHING IN HOT BREATHS

AT EACH HAND THAT DARES

AFTER BEING SWATTED.

WHIPPING AND SCORCHING

THE CREEPING FINGER TIPS.

ENVELOPING ME FULL.

AND BURNING THE WORDS AWAY INTO CHARRED RUINS.

AND THE GHOSTS DO NOT LEAVE.

I CARRY THEM WITH ME.

BUT I NO LONGER CARRY THE BLAME.

THAT

BELONGS TO YOU.

AND YOU SPARKED AN INFERNO WHEN YOU TRIED TO PLACE IT INSIDE OF ME.

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE BONFIRE.

TONIGHT

FOR ONCE,

WE WILL BURN

you

AT THE STAKE.

What is this life?

Filled with scattered pieces of our better selves

reflected in every vessel of dreams which hold its empty promises where mirage of happiness weighed us down in a way we could never imagine until I stitched our continents back together with every fibre of my being only to find you deep dived into what I thought was meaningless element to soothe our flesh underneath the summer skies, and you’d learnt and tasted each drop of clear water under my very eyes then disappeared with the wave of what’s found within you before I could even blink or pull a slightest strand of your careful resolution for me to cling on to in my greatest loss and confusion, not knowing how deep the scar was. Then time had proved once again that turning you into an object of understanding between withered chrysants and framed memories of us in the shrine of the aftermath only rephrased some things in life are not meant to be understood, not  even when I learnt that I was unable to bring myself to say I love you the same way as I did before while shunning those pairs of loving eyes in a prison of moments, so I snuck through an aperture to the void within. You might broke me well, but I broke myself better in the shadow of my solitude and time had proved once again that whatever choices we had made rephrased some broken things are not meant to be repaired.

What is this life..?

☆1970

✞2013

Pic: ©Laura Makabresku

— Mapping Satanic Circle And The Origin Of My Evil