visionary loser

an alternative to ennui

Monthly Archives: November 2016

Antidote to Bereavement

we the underbelly –

cowering in the dark amongst the filthy,

our pockets filled with mud and shit

pissing away at the manicured suits

cocaine nightmares

dusted and busted

there’s no other choice.

slitting our throats,

we hang ourselves amongst the living

spilling blood in the streets

as hollowed eyes watch,

in sick sad amusement

fucked by millions of tiny cocks

spitting threats and dreams in our mouths

that dissipate and butcher.

manipulative usurping cunts

casting us in fiery disarray

longing for that sliver of beauty

our innards spill in a pool

of sunken lullabies.

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Today

Enough with this depressing, angsty bullshit.

I want to remember today.

I’m feeling really good.

We set ourselves on fire

A brazen, blazing passion

igniting such codependency

that they burned all the same.

By stoking this love

it had become as volatile as an inferno

threatening too much, they ended it.

Naughty little rendezvous

in the embers of what was

but ultimately, it needed to be tamed.

Put out before it devoured too much

for it had

it consumed his heart.

Fiery tempers and hot words

a jealousy that bloomed

and turned to ash.

They built a pyre

to sacrifice such sweet nostalgia

leaving behind an echo of incandescence.

Now he’s drowning his sorrows at the bottom of a bottle

swimming through salt and gasoline

such fervent ill-thoughts.

He lights a cigarette

and watches the smoke twist and dance –

There’s no extinguishing this bond.

Eskimo

Oct. 10, 2016.

This is a new kind of love.

I have experienced romantic love once before –

A pale, bony hand gripping my heart.

This physical manifestation trying to choke the beauty out of it,

Making me shudder violently with the pain of unabashed emotion.

This caring too much is driving me crazy.

My head taken from my shoulders and battered around like a fucking baseball.

My whole body disintegrating around me until all that’s left is my heart,

Pulsing with the illusion of us together.

I know you’ll choose her.

Every fibre of my being says so.

And yet, I still wait in anticipation hoping it could be me.

But would I really want it to be me?

I know it’s a complicated situation,

But would I want to be chosen between two?

To be chosen amongst millions makes me feel unique and special,

But to be chosen against one is…

Well, it just is.

And that sucks.

I love you and I want to protect you.

If that means doing as I am now, so be it.

It’ll be hard to see you with her,

But I’m stronger than I look.

Ultimately, your happiness outweighs mine.

I deserve nothing.