sippy

so i sip sip sippy on some red red wine

part three of the lord of the rings is on

i’ve got a lot on my mind

hope i pass the class this time

hope i don’t fall for the same boy for the millionth time

hope i get to see the morning sun

though I’m not really not sure if im really hoping to be alive

and i sip sip sippy on this red red wine

it tastes better after every sip

i taste the notes, i gulp down time

and i don’t know what im looking for in the darkness

i don’t know why im begging my senses to dim

i don’t know why i bow down to the poison

i don’t know why i love him

i just sip sip sippy on this red red wine

ask the shadows and the clouds what i did

to deserve this pain

this agony

this melodrama!

(the blasphemy!)

this karma

it’s all floating in pieces

it’s all kaleidoscopic

it’s all beginning to seem meaningless

like i lack some vital foresight

as though ive grown myopic

but i sip sip sippy on my red red wine

got all the worries in the world packed in my back pocket,

but i think i might just be fine.

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Qubool.

i think there might be something important

about enduring difficulty,

about facing embarrassment

about embracing your truth

i think there is something vital, in fact

about standing in broad daylight

with the less comfortable aspects

of your person absolutely conspicuous,

and saying— this. this is who I am.

i think it is quite noble

indeed, i think it is necessary

to come out of hiding at some point

to stop running

to wake up.

to learn to be of service to someone

someone other than yourself

i think it’s time to realize

that there’s not much you can force

not comfortably.

that anyone who really wants you

is going to jump down in

to journey inside your daunting guts

to explore every nook and cranny first

to understand it all.

they’re going to want you, not despite it

but perhaps, because of it

and certainly, first you must want yourself

you must have yourself ever before someone else can

in sickness and in health

to love

to cherish

you must become capable and deserving

of your own respect

of your own content

and for this,

you must be honest with yourself

you must live with a kind of transparency,

a sort of unparalleled candor

you must accept the most terrifying and beautiful of truths—

who you really are.

qubool hai?

Qubool hai

Qubool hai.

Qubool hai.

swig

swig it.

take this life in gulps

push it down ya throat

beat your anxiety to a pulp

swig it.

that poison ain’t gon drink itself

so put your pride aside

burns going down, but you not gon melt

try and keep ya eyes open

try not to puke it all out

swig it, baby-girl

open up ya fuckin mouth

let your body dim some,

let your mind breathe

let your tongue cum, drop those lace panties

let it percolate, every single fuckin cell

run your finger over the words quickly,

don’t let yourself get down and dwell

swig it

you ain’t got much more time now

swig it all up in one shot,

sizzle dazzle, yummy ow!

into the night 🌗

i walk into the night

into the night,

into the darkness

i shouldn’t have pretended that everything

is fine

because it isn’t

it really isn’t

im scared

im drunk

and sad

and i wander

aimlessly

into the night

bent on breaking the promises i made to myself

bent on being everything

everything except good

inhale the smoke

cigarette after cigarette

sitting on my throne in the night

i inhale

i am bent on being everything

everything except good

i am miles up

and i fall

even though i promised not to

but it feels good,

plummeting

what feels like a hundred miles per hour

towards the earth

head throbbing

mind throbbing

heart racing

i gotta pee really bad

knocking on every door,

asking if they’ll let me in to take a piss

they’re not having it

none of my bullshit

i am bent on hurting myself

i am bent on feeling something

i am bent on feeling

i am bent on being heard

so i call everyone i know

anyone who’ll listen

to my bullshit

as i wander

aimlessly

into the night.

extraction

like this little piece of metal in my ear

i tried to force something sharp inside of me

something that was entirely too alien

to ever make itself home inside my body

i tried to force something

that i think i knew could never work

because i wanted it to

because it seemed seductive

because i thought it could be beautiful

but from the moment that the sharp metal pierced me,

my skin knew that something was not right

it knew that an immense pressure had been introduced

that this pressure would only grow with each passing day

with each passing minute

with each passing second

so long as i allowed the sinister metal to remain in the place that it had invaded

so long as i sat and watched as it started to bubble, and to boil, and to hurt beyond belief

until i couldn’t sleep on it

until i couldn’t sleep at all

because i knew it was there

because it haunted me

until its very existence tormented me,

until i couldn’t take it anymore

and ma was always right

i was pretty without it,

there was elegance in innocence

there was charm in the untouched

and she was right,

im wounded now

ive created a wound for myself that i hardly needed

a pain that was never necessary

but what remains clear is this–

the extraction is necessary

i mustn’t attempt to work around the source of my hurt

i must extract it from its very root, no matter how painful this process may be for me

and ma holds my hand as the sharp metal is pulled forcibly from my ears, skin ripped from where it had grown over the metal

from where my body attempted to defend me from my own vanity

pain, pain

but it is out now.

and i hold the cause up at the light,

i struggle and squint to see it, for it is truly minuscule in size

and i can’t help but chuckle a little

how can something so small cause so much pain?

how can something so slender steal sleep?

but it is out of me.

and where it was there’ll always be a scar,

where it was there’ll always be a gap,

where it was there’ll always be a reminder–

that i messed up,

that i was vain,

that i was naive,

that i was vulnerable,

but also,

that i survived.

purgatory

and now i don’t feel pain,

it’s anticipation

and although regret rings constantly

like a bell

it seems there is still hope for salvation

in the form of your beautiful mouth

in the guise of your knowing eyes

in the risk of redemption

that is where I dwell

But will you still want me, love?

will you still run your hands all over?

will you still wanna feel it?

will it feel the same when we’re sober?

I stand frozen, in fear

I trace my mind over possibilities

I can’t tell whether you’re moving

further, or near

The waiting is killing me.

Silence and the Bluff

“I do not wish women to have power over men; but over themselves.”- Mary Shelley

and so the diamond in the rough

finally shows its true colors

the glitter falls away,

and leaves only rubble.

you and the monster are one and the same

and I’m appalled at myself

for ever thinking any other way

for you are not the remedy for the tremor

you are the tremor in disguise

you are a different kind of the same pain

you are malevolent in essence, with deceptively kind eyes

and you jab at me with your invisible spear,

as you kiss me all over

you scoff at my vulnerability and spit on my softness,

you lie over and over and claim to be honest

and your greatest weapon is your kindly appearance

it’s the blade that cuts every time

for though the monster is evil

and hunts me for my blood,

he possesses a candor that you never could

he explicitly declares his intentions, and never claims to be good

but you

weren’t you supposed to be my hero?

my supposed ‘shining knight’,

to whom i left my heart in confidence,

yet you never hear my cries

and as for the source of my warm, sticky blood,

you lend it to any passing beast that may offer a dime.