My Malaise

Musik: I Want My Innocence Back - Emilie Autumn
Klieden: Jeans, red hoodie and spotty socks
Filme: The Shining (Kubrick)
Buchen: Self-reliance by Emerson (technically an essay but it's hardcore and so the only thing I've been reading this week)

I've been playing with this poem for a while. I wrote it a fair bit ago, just kept on tweaking. I guess I'll probably continue to do so, even after I post it but I am quite happy with this version for now.

My Malaise

Thick sheets of rain, they are the pain,
It falls like lighter fluid, to set me alight, set me alight!
Oh, make my body turn and burn,
To a shrivelled pile of bone;
Then take the bone and crush it to dust,
Then take the dust and scatter it away,
Let it blow in the winds, let the winds choke on me,
For I am noxious, toxic;
I will scorch your very skin.
I will make you hurt.
You cannot imagine my potency;
Screaming, crying, heaving;
You will almost certainly die from it.
Stars like meteors fall upwards from the ground…
Heavy, heavy, heavy,
Blasting the very earth with the utmost mirth.
Molten lava at sub-zero,
Frozen in action, frozen forever.
A soft little rose in the centre,
A soft little rose,
Oh, little rose;
Die like everyone, everything, anything else.
Watch as my skeleton bursts forth from my skin.
Watch as it gets back in.
I have no heart, no lungs, no blood-
Why should I have need of them?
My heart; it was stolen,
By the most glorious ghost.
But she’s a ghost, she’s a ghost-
See-through and, more importantly, dead.
My lungs they were filled to the brim,
With the hot tar of hell,
They melted within me.
And my blood?
Well, I drained it all from under my skin;
It was like a fountain, a river, a lake,
Thick, slow and magnificent.
Exquisite;
How it makes me ache,
It is the most beautiful agony I have experienced.
I only hope one day,
You can feel it too.

National Poetry Day

Musik: Ben Conroy talking XD
Kleiden: Jeans, purple top and starry shoes
Filme: Back To The Future (Zemickis)
Buchen: Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain

National Poetry Day so thought I oughta post something. Just quickly as I'm going soon!

This poem doesn't have a proper title. But yeah...

My heart is like the tide,
It swells and bursts hot streams of blood,
In and out, constant, without…
Constraint to rein it in.
It will let anyone in.
Tears can fill my teacup,
When all is said and done.
I’m alone now, finally;
Time to have some fun
With the silver flash and sultry red,
The adrenaline!
I’m stunned.

My heart is like an anvil;
It beats heavy, hard and dull.
It bruises across my chest,
It is so weighted, so out-dated.
I’ll drink to that, my friend!
I’ll drink to anything at all…
If it’ll take away the sharp edges,
Soften, dull them down to weak water potency.
Acutely aware
That you’re not really there.
Yet softly, in drifts the idea falls into my mind…
That you are all that there is.
Metaphor is literal.
Literal is not real, real is not real…
Nothing is.

My heart is exposed like raw meat,
The slightest touch can sting.
I’ll tell you everything;
Anything you want to know!
No, wait.
Fuck you.
Oh, wait.
I love you.

You press onto my heart like a boulder,
And you are so much bolder
Than I could ever be.
My heart is yours.
But I can’t let you keep it.
My heart is yours,
As long as it is beating.