False Casanova

Backpedal,

For a moment, I forgot who I am

I forgot what I am worth

I forgot that I can stand

That I can run, that I bleed

That you are nothing to me

That I gave you an inch, and you took miles from me

 

And my heart is no plaything,

With which you can continue to toy

And you think you’re so slick in this game,

you think you’re so coy

 

But I am the Queen Bitch

I will forget you, quick fix

Like sand, you will dissolve

And I won’t even blink

 

Oh, you think I need you?

Think I can’t make it by?

Think I need you to hold me?

Wipe my tears, tell me lies?

 

Well fuck you and your delusions,

I will prosper on this throne

my body doesn’t mind the cold,

my tears dry on their own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Eve: 2 Seconds Post-Bite 

I am made of mistakes and anticipation,

Of regret and hopes of salvation,

Of a kind of loneliness that won’t dissolve,

the kind of guilt that can’t be absolved

 

I am woven of timidness,

Of the inability to decline,

I offer myself to monsters,

In hopes they won’t oblige

 

Because I am scattered everywhere,

I lie in pieces, so thin

And I can’t recall a time content,

In a sentience that feels so grim

 

Yes, I am not now nor then

Nor will I ever be,

I float like dust particles in the air

(The ones that you can scarcely see)

 

And I hurt from the inside out,

I want to scream and cry

I want to be seen and heard and felt

But my body simply lies

My tongue lay limp in my mouth

My eyes submissively recline

I breathe and beg my body cope

But my stubborn lungs decline

 

I am made of paranoia and smoke

Of black thoughts and shame

The sort of jaded soul at which you poke

The sort that’s easy to blame

I am a blend of nausea and withdrawal

Of plague, sickness, and inconclusive reigns

I am a creature that howls and crawls

In the safe shadows under an onyx plain

 

And I am everything I vowed never to become

Everything I claimed to loathe once

I am she who’s pain I mocked before I dared endure

For though knowledge satisfies, it cunningly vanquishes the pure.

Tremor

Hand tremor,

I shake.

You did this,

how dare you bend what you knew would break?

Haunt me,

and I simply cannot rest anymore.

Broken,

this can’t be what minds are made for;

to scream and wonder and yell and knock,

to pinch and prod and snicker and rot.

And although I know

that sentience is a pendulum

that rocks and sways,

it seems there is a constant,

one thing that doesn’t go away.

For though my mind

will refuse to dwell,

will repress any memory (lest it begin to swell),

there is a constant,

a pesky remain,

it is my hand

— which continues to shake.

 

 

-/-

Release 

Music, 

Strange, yes.

No one is as important

I’m a bad person 

In a glass box 

No one understands

All surface eyes 

Hurt ma again 

I always do 

Hurt anyone that’s real 

Hurt anyone that tries to help 

Maybe I don’t want it

Maybe I wanna sink 

Lower 

And lower 

Destined for this I think 

Sadness fits like a glove 

Fearful 

Of what I’m missing 

Because it’s always something 

This or that 

Religion or pleasure 

Familiarity or the pursuit of new 

Of mystery 

Of goodness or greatness 

Of pleasing or being pleased 

Searching for the balance 

Is killing me 

I dont know where it is 

Equilibrium 

If it exists

No one understands 

No air in this box 

Gotta smash it open myself 

Myself 

Gotta end up with shards of glass

 in my skin, 

My soul,

But I’ll be free 

Flames of Delirium 

So far I’ve come, since I first started, since I first lost myself

I’m still lost, but that’s not the point anymore, is it?

Because what does it matter, whether I find my way or become further entangled in the maze I fashioned once in a dazed state? 

You know me now 

And although I rest at the very bottom of the forgotten pile of fleeting thoughts at the back of your mind, 

I suppose I’m satisfied. 

And let me tell you something, something I’m not sure I understand myself yet, at least not in its entirety 

Satisfaction is not what I imagined it to be. It is, if anything, even more empty and unbecoming than the chase, for it begs that sharp, painful question–what now?

A question that brings with it, quite inconveniently, a battery of still more difficult questions: Where do I go? What do I do? Who do I become? Who am I, really?

Because the truth is, I don’t know. I didn’t know then and I don’t know now. And I don’t think I’ll know even when I’m close to the end, whenever that is, however that is. And maybe all of this was just a distraction my mind dreamt up to keep me from seeing how lost I truly was, and now I know again. 

But I can’t trivialize you like that, can I? You were, you are, important to me. You, or my truth of what you are and what you mean to me, taught me how to revere, how to admire and cherish for its own sake. You taught me how to believe, how to hope for something I knew I could never have and persevere in spite of that knowledge. You taught me, I think, how to love.

Maybe that’s why I’m having such a hard time letting go. Maybe that’s why I never really can. Because how can I release back into the universe what I found in its deepest hidden crevice when I most needed it, when I was so close to losing any hope I might ever have to find a reason to smile as wholeheartedly as you made possible, and wonder. 

Yes, you made me wonder. You made me pause, and think, and question everything I’d previously accepted as fact without taking the time to observe it objectively. You made me curious and excited, and dimmed my senses just enough so that everything else would seem brighter. 

So it doesn’t matter to me that this fire you ignited once inside me was burning for the sake of distracting me from my inability to piece myself together. It doesn’t matter that the fire serves no purpose anymore and that anyone in their right mind would know that the time has come to put these fiery flames to rest. It doesn’t matter that I’m supposed to be satisfied, because I’m not, because I’ll never be, because I’m human. 

So stay with me, now and forever. Invisible to them, here, by my side, inside me. You are my strength, and you are my weakness, and anything else I am remains in between. 

You are as real as the flames you are represented by, the ones that will burn on for eternity, if I have any say in the matter 

You are here, you are always, and you are mine

It doesn’t matter that you don’t really exist.

Viri-descent

Everything hurts.

Shattered bones further disintegrate, until they form a powdered ash of pain

boiling in the cauldron, I lean over and allow my tears to fall in,

Further add a lock of hair from the Mistress of Folly

Now I sigh in it

It bubbles over, ghastly green

I pour it into a glass, which shatters from the heat

I consume it all, the mixture, the shards of glass

I deserve this pain, I’ll make it last

I transform, finally, as I was always destined to

Into the thing I once adamantly proclaimed to hate the most

Unkind, selfish, stubborn, alone,

I regurgitate my heart and see it writhing on the floor

until it stops moving once and for all

I compose myself and gaze into the looking glass,

What once was innocent, shall never be again.

Phantasm

Down where my thoughts come to me in waves; smooth and coarse, gentle and turbulent. I’ve never felt lonelier, I’ve never feared myself more. I’ve never respected my right to be as much as I have been lately. I find shelter under the open sky, refuge in the emptiness that suffocates me. And I just wanted to tell someone about it– about the beauty, about the pain, about the nothingness that stitches it all together. I am here, nowhere, and I wanted to ask you about whether or not that was okay.

I guess things happen, and our interpretation of the world around us is nothing more than a mirage stemming from the universe inside us; we see what we want to. And whether we are whole or broken or dust or fire means nothing to anyone else and their reality. I am alone, you are alone, and I don’t think it helps that we face each other as we live in our loneliness. You cannot penetrate my mind unless I allow you to, only I live here. Only I live here.