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169 · Jul 2022
time passes anger fuels
stranger Jul 2022
senseless senseless rage
the woman screams and wails, i inhale smoke
it is a feminine urge to ache and isolate,
therefore a feminine source to burn and wreck.
chaos. i crave fear glinting on retinas.
all that is feminine in me resembles pain
all my femininity exuding from me is revenge burdening.
chokehold-i must
ruin this core of sufferance alluring.
wash this body, pamper, nurture feminine.
implode, exhale,flame,anger perfervidly.
blood is woman, blood outlimns my femininity.
i am the ashes of another nail burnt in the cruel hands of history.
stranger May 2022
burgundy, white and
burgundy, white and violet
irises have sprung so i can steal them
rupture this temperature increase and fall in
eardrum ripping sleep.
the beauty
has returned and i may weep
for time to reap.
my head just another hole to ****,
my mouth just another eclipsed month
irises in May can only last
long enough that I may not keep
track.
unclutch, disobey and swallow the lack
of life where there is almost too much to live.
give it to the irises, they die quick.
167 · Sep 2022
9/9-10/9
stranger Sep 2022
these peaceful mornings have thought me to sit, breathe and admire,
smoke until the gentle light barely caresses the filter,
and rest my gaze upon still water.
cry to mimic the dew spun on spider...
webs to faint and inspire.
peaceful, quiet, muddied,
it is rather dire to feel September.
to crawl in its mist and pray for tears to cleanse this swollen stare, these hands enclosing earth, Atlas-like torture.
the mist morphs into smoke morphs into prismatic projections of some ecstasy I've been craving.
I've spotted everything with ash, my lips, the pages I've been turning, these palms withholding;
patience for a life unlived.
166 · Feb 2019
(°~~~goodbye note~~~°)
stranger Feb 2019
i'll write you a note someday
it'll speak about what i love
about what i regret
and who i miss.
in that note I'll probably tell you that i'm sorry,
sorry that we couldn't co-exist when you were in trouble
sorry for the fact that i loved you and probably never got to tell you.
i'll write a note hoping it keeps you going
celebrating suicide Sunday with a smoke, a smile and that note in your lighter pocket.
i'll write the note and give it when i leave
and I'd have to gather up to courage to say goodbye.
you see i live investing my time in the broken as i forget about myself.
so the more i write to you, the more i write about you, the more time i dedicate to you
the better i am
no that's a lie I feel too much for you to ever get better
but at least i selfishly forget myself to feel you
Your memories
Your burden
Your joy
so yes i'll write you a note saying how i hope you'll forgive me for thinking everything has such great importance, hoping that maybe for once you'd be selfish.
I'll write you a note
And it will say I love you written in code at the end.
one day I'll tell you
164 · Jul 2018
bruise
stranger Jul 2018
Splashes of color on my tinted skin
Bruises and marks is all that I see.
And somehow I find them pretty
The fact that pain comes in different shades of every color
But it’s not that fair for me?
I bare it all to see its beauty and I never recover.
164 · Jan 2022
it can only last so long
stranger Jan 2022
§
I wish to be bones
Undoused by this vinegar scented shirt
Alone, a spring in this bed, a splinter in the headboard.
Writing love poems is so facile
Easily infatuated, I fall in love so heavy
Detailed manuscriptic, I'm pulling.
A love that isn't mine to be keeping.
A love that only I'm loving.
Like always cursed being.
The snow underneath me won't be melting,
Anytime soon.
Martyrdom crinkles and still I'm the one suffering.
What's not to be working I do it to myself lately.
Eyelashes catching ice, sleeping is my demise.
Snowflakes to be kept on the tips of my black gloves, I'm fighting for myself or at least I try.
Should've known desperation was no love, not worth it but my
Heart is lingering in stomach acid, cuz I've buried myself so deep, I'm crawling.
Out of bed every morning sickly to the kitchen table promising that I'll be cleaning up
Myself off the floor and sheets and never feel like this
Ever again.
163 · Jan 2022
selfish
stranger Jan 2022
§
Mercy shouldn't warm me up
The way it does sometimes
The way it disgusts me.
Shredding the skin on the chords unknowingly
To feel something.
Showering these calloused tips hoping,
My touch to be satin, my voice unbreaking
Mercy shouldn't taste so sweet as it's realising its toxin.
Loom over me, tell me I'm suffering, tell me you agree occasionally.
Hollow out my eye sockets burn my gums they're all aching.
The laced up corset of my ribs is breaking.
All these playful discussions feel like my family's selling me, all this misplaced care, this sporadic goodwill.
Maximise my lifespan make sure I don't die until
I fulfill the system of profanity while grinning.
I am produce I am porcelain I am me.
To be sold, to be passed on, inherited.
What a great joke I'm gatekeeping.
stranger Aug 2021
I miss the Istanbul mists
And Bucharests's dissapointments
I watch the street's misfits,
And measure their arrogances.
****, I'm salivating...
For these sporadic romances.
You see it's raining now and I don't expect abeyances.
Wish the rain would sing me back into sleeping.
Greecian exhalation
And American expectation
I'm living in a fragment.
Illegal teleportation
My withdrawals have become desperation,
No more time to lament.
The scent of international alienation
It aches and it digs
The immortal veneration
Of all these useless schemes.
I exert into mindless illusions
And pray to yield its fruits
But these are altiloquent pretentions
And real life seems so crude.
I become cosmical equation
A simple empyrean constellation
And continue breathing solely in my imagination.
i crave pasta
162 · Oct 2021
brain tumor what a savarin
stranger Oct 2021
There's this ache in my head
Comes around every night
As if time is infiltrating
And I'm left to wonder if I'm dead.
This pain is so cancerous
Like a gangrene it spreads.
It's cylindrical like a syringe it digs in and releases,
Toxin or cure who's really checking?
All I know is that I'm aching.
Every night this earthquake like sliver
Cracks my skull open and slithers
As if it's made of hell and eats thoughts.
Maybe this pain is my comfort,
My last coping mechanism I knew it would hurt.
Bitter,I'm so bitter,
Enthralled by various sounds and punctuation.
This catharsis must be my killer.
This envy my executioner.
This time it will be proper.
Death unpaused by distractions.
**** me faster
stranger Aug 2021
Familiar faces in stranger places
I think I saw you in someone else today
Faded traces and they're all complacent
Cleaning up my head to have a place to lay.
You're the spark in my eye
That's why I need to close them
The mist of our interactions try to pry
My eyes open as much as they can.
I'm left speechless
You were a lady in crutches
A thousand police dispatches
The sounds of all the ambulances
A few more chances.
A little kid who cried.
Another romance tried.
Just a little more time.
I compliment you with ease
Probably because you've been my muse for weeks,
Years even maybe
I know the white sky doesn't lie,
And that I should take its advice for good.
By the time it darkened I should've understood,
That time runs faster than I could ever try.
So I stare at the smoke tangling on the stage
And at this metal nail I found,
I calculate and ignore all that I could ever crave,
Figure that I'll let myself cry this black kohl out.
And let you fade into my songs and my words and my chords and my dreams and my thoughts and my hopes.
what am I even doing
161 · Jun 2022
dry
stranger Jun 2022
dry
for my hips to be soldered through the floor
by agonising tanzanite brilliant bolts.
Therefore this malignant daze may escape this dried out corpse.
This life-withholding, melodramatic remorse...
This whoredom of confusion i contort
back and forth in my throat,i don't remember-how to breathe.
stranger May 2022
™️
this ****** hair-dye
coating my abdomen and clavicles
mulberry leaking off my
body, so ******.
I feel so regal
I feel lathered in stares,
Here in this corner.
So shamefully shameless.
mulberry escaping my hair strands and flowing down my bellybutton over this mons ***** and down my knees.
bathed in violet dreams.
am i this body or am i just unclean?
stranger Jul 2018
Bathe my mind in beatiful lies
Until the truth is nowhere you can find
Wash the bad of my limbs
Until confusion is all that it feels.
Cut out the weight from my chest
Pin it down with never ending chains.
Take the pain away from my head,
Please I'll rather live in bad then be dead.
Fool me, tell me I am dreaming
Fake and virtuality seems so much better
Than cruel reality and this feeling.
Warm me up or at least tell me the cold isn't here.
Tell me it's warm even if I shiver.
Because lies are my truth and pain is my giver.
So show me love even if it's fake
Because for now pretty lies is all I can take.
159 · Aug 2021
damn the flowers
stranger Aug 2021
I see faces in the tuberoses dying in my vase.
Are they really counting my days?
The faces wince in pain as they watch me every evening.
Tonight the faces contorted, dodging concern and flowing straight into judgement.
They hear the dogs howling and the mosquitos buzzing all trapped in this little silver box by my bed
So they focus on me instead
I know they've  been checking to see if I'm dead.
And every time I breathe again they let their fragrance haunt and mend.
The flowers are dying I tell myself, they have been for days, scent less by now I must imagine things.
My little silver box clings and the wood enclosing my room cracks and all I do is listen
Sirens, screams, rings and all sorts of disturbances.
Why can't I go to sleep and just forget about the tuberoses?
Why do I have to live in the flickers of light and notice their grimaces?
I've had enough tasteless nightmares this dead flora can't stand the comparison.
And yet their image burns and their scent hypnotises,
The door handle turns and what's hollow crystallises
My pride is hurt and the spiders in the house begin to thread.
I must be hallucinating about love again.
they're still here
stranger Sep 2021
It's for the greater good that I undress
And spare us all of interest.
Be it body, mind or ***
I do it nevertheless
I've spilt my blood in your tea,
So tonight you'll be drinking
Echoes of being bound to me

Dreams have been better until they became nightmares,
Metaphorically clueless I admire them
I've been hit, I've been carresed,
So I'd conclude that it would be sinful of me to bless
When at best I'm a couple of unbalanced distances.
A few too many faces passing the limit and they stress,
My thoughts with their grimaces
I've sent messages demanding to be forgiven,
Pleading innocence, love remains I'll be the only one leaving .
Many souls think of me so well, while I forget I ever met them.
I take what I'm given then put it to burning.
Once time is up and the cycle renews itself,
I flip and get over what I've lived with no help

Might be the most selfish thing I've been doing,
Acting like I'm forgetting,
All the conversations I've been harbouring,
Keeping them in the bottle even if I'm thirsty
To live and to keep living
If I keep on breathing I'll do it so well
I promise.
It'll be like when I stare at the flame to justify the crying.
I want to be alive for anybody but for me

So I'll undress for myself in the mirror tonight
To admire the body, mind and soul I'll fight,
Until I get this life right._
stranger Sep 2021
Sometimes I dream of being a kid
Sometimes I dream of never waking up
Sometimes I dream of being free.
Sometimes I forget what life is about.
Sometimes I dream the 8 pills multiplied by 14 and that I died in the corner of the scene.
Sometimes I dream of never giving up the 10 floor I was planning on jumping.
Sometimes I dream of taking the poison I had been hiding.
I used to mark all my birthdays and count them all as funerals.
And I'd take pleasure or pain then clean up the deed.
That's a good girls memorial.
At 13 I thought I was projecting
Just a product of society, I'm copying what I'm given.
I thought it was boisterous and fraudulent  to be suicidal.
So I became less pretentious.
Waited for mother nature.
A crosswalk, a powerful storm, a sickness
Glimmering on my birthday candles.
I've been better,
Older and meticulous I take to anger to get me off.
Moving from place to place, trading ciggaretes to be unconscious.
I polarize memories, scared they'll leave me if I'm not cautious.
Gatekeep happiness, the child and its loss.
My daddy still a distant obsession, now closer than ever:
Kid me saw him as a god, now I wonder if he's ever been human.
My mommy still the embodiment of warning, I used to think I'd see her cured of her epiphanies.
She's here but she'll never understand.
Every morning colder I'm clinging to what I never had
Hair's been black, blue, green, purple, pink until it wasn't,
Scaring trespassers with my fingers on the book subtitle
"legal ramification of a psychopath who's suicidal"
I've been 3 then 7 then every other number every year,
I refuse to get older the same way I refused to stay little.
Being really has been rough,
I guess I'll have to grow up.
But sometimes I dream of all my years going my way.
Sometimes I feel stuck in and out of my own brain.
Sometimes I want to erase my scars to make room for more.
Spectaculos speculations of a nail arching out of the floor.
I'm better even when I'm not.
Kid me would want to die the moment something irritating happened , present me would wait a second.
Not for me now but for me in the future,
Who could be smiling at me and remember,
That it was worse once maybe it won't stay so forever
157 · Jan 2022
february, last year
stranger Jan 2022
if I drink enough beer with my dad it'll compensate for all the years he wasn't here,
if I bake enough cakes with my mom i'll forget I'd never forgive her.
Just like if I had 9000$ no-one would ever see my face again.
Fugees echo in my bathroom, they smell of anger when the song ends.
And now I'm brand new.
Water sits on me like a disease,
And now that I shaved I can see how that bike bit me.
The scars on my legs laugh bitterly,
How could I not see?
That I'm the flu within me.
I'm guilty.
For the insomnia, the tears
For the kid in me with no freedom, for the fears.
I've made and broken my own dreams,
Just how things are meant to be.
Timeline healthy.
Life will eat me,
Whole and leave no crumbs.
Wipe the table too, you eat well when you behave well.
And so I'll die at my own hands.
Forgiving yet so ravaged,
Desperate to touch
Some other version of me.
I'll die how I always wanted it to be,
by my own means
slowly
wrapped in the smears of superficiality,
I've clung to, solely, to survive being me.
Hollowed out but never empty
The only thing left to caress,
Is the shell I'll become to protect what remains of myself
Salted smile scented happiness.
155 · Jul 2018
bath thinkin
stranger Jul 2018
Bathtubs and bubbles
Hair strands, struggles.
My hands and soap
Life and and all the hope
Problems, stress
Forever distressed
Love, memories, hanging on my silver linings,
Pain, hurt mind and colored thoughts
Happiness is all I ought.
Persistence is all I got.
stranger Sep 2021
I should move to a brand new city
And teach myself how to die.
Just like Mistki sang
I'm here again.
I've been so many people in so many places I'm tired to ressurect.
The motion and the stumbles
Have gotten me tired.
And now I sit in bed or in the backyard.
Listening to my head or my mom mar.
Me, no-one else.
Telling me how she'll let me know what you can sense,
From your first sniff.
A toothpick and a q-tip and she burns it.
Brings it close to my nostril and tells me to snort it.
And oh is it hurting.
My ear my brain my sinuses begging.
She says ******* is 5 times the feeling
And Im so concerned, I only half confessed to **** why is she showing this to me?
Ah it's another trap I see.
I ask where did she get it?
How would you know mommy?
Have you done it?
Tell me I'll keep it a secret I promise.
"no"
I've had friends die from it.
Oh it's that type of trap, it was anticipative.
Another warning turned life story
Another life story incomplete because I'm not deserving.
Another life another city.
She does it to me, and I become it.
This poem was supposed to be about dissapearing not my lineage.
Now it's both.
A declaration that I won't continue it.
I promise.
154 · Jul 2018
weekends and weak hands
stranger Jul 2018
It's the end of the week that catches me feeling the most numb.
Unable to sleep but barely walking.
Unable to eat but hungry.
Wanting love but distant
Eyes wide open but drugged like dreaming.
The only thing that I could grant
Is that I can't explain any of this feeling
It's a Saturday night that makes me the loneliest .
Laying in bed seems like the safest it could get
But staring at an empty wall just seems fake
But I stay with opinionated thoughts running through my head.
Thinking that staring at the night sky would be great
A Sunday evening is when reality catches up to me
But even if my responsibilities is all I see there's still more thoughts behind my mind's tree.
I've counted weeks and months and I've just been the same.
And honestly a change scares my heart
I'll rather be looking for my lost pieces than lose another part.
153 · Apr 2022
sûr mon tête
stranger Apr 2022
I found a way to hold my thumb against my palm so it feels like I'm holding a hand
I read your love letter again exactly one month to the day after you've given it to me,
I'll call it fate.
I told my friend how I wrote about my parents getting my body repatriated-she shuddered but I just blinked.
My mom came with me to watch,
How I gulp down a tequila shot then wash it off with lemon beer-
How I can't take it anymore.
I'm loving this rain, it brands the solitude away from my brain and into my heart, I know I'm meant to be alone.
I'm loving this tightness in my chest, this willow gilded pain I'm glinting
Taking my clothes off so that I'm touching all that could be me, so I'm dreaming it's yours.
stranger Oct 2021
°
A shard of a body
That's what I was at 8
I remember knowing I was watched.
Never when I smiled, only when I endured.
Acid words, their silver impact
Midas made gold, so my skin must've shimmered.
A remnant of soul,
Waiting for twilight so I can crawl
Within myself and rest for the night.
From 7 to 9 I used to beg for love,
That's why I have so much pride today.
Infancy meant smothering the floor with my ****** knees and begging,
Pleading like a fly to a swatter, to be saved, to be forgiven.
I used to think to- myself "mercy is so hard to work for".
At 10 I took to nightly silence,
A knock at the door meant a visit and five meant I was the outsider.
Waiting for the neighbours to glance at each other while I was counting roaches, dead on the stairs.
A scrap of mind,
When I still thought god loved me, I used to pray,
To be taken and never given away.
To be given my knees back in exchange for me.
I used to ask to be given mind if death wasn't ready to take so young.
But church was empty and I was never accompanied just held by the hand.
A shard of body, a remnant of soul, a scrap of mind
I'd tell the child we've been dead and we're now gods.
She'd believe me,
She'd believe anything.
I should've killed you, child.
It would've been faster, a respectful execution.
I love you child.
Tonight you may be worth only one tear
But you have cried enough for me.
151 · Jan 2023
i wish i knew
stranger Jan 2023
you want me to be yours
i want to be my own
So i sit and watch you breathe.
somebody to kiss
somebody to lay next to
you don't want to hate me,
no-one does, what is this ?
i'll leave and go home,
i can't be on my own cuz guilt eats and it gulps and I'll weep in the new house i never knew i had
my life in guilt, my life in culpability, in swallowing dry, in choking over Tuesday so Wednesday morning I'm glimmering.
It can't be all bad,  good has to come- she said life is proportionate
where am i then?
i plead to you in the sheets ruffled and i bent and shaking, i beg you to understand im undeserving you sigh
You've heard this many many times, you're tired and I see you arriving exactly where i was afraid to see you
"please just be my friend and don't resent me" and "forgive me" 19 and apologising for living.
149 · Sep 2021
23:28 it was so worth it
stranger Sep 2021
At 23:28
Is the last bus running
I feel the cold around me,
But Ive no time to hate.
The weather is splendid,
The streets flooded,
The bass booming,
The rain pouring,
I'm dumbfounded.
Why did I leave the concert so early?
I'm paranoid, I'm going.
Taking the bus hoping it'll take me home
And if it doesn't I'll walk I've no shame of my own.
I did walk at the end anyway,
Ankle deep in water while others were hiding
I'd call myself stupid if it wasn't so extraordinary,
Drenched to the bone, the rain so hereditary.
I was singing along then I was running.
Home if I find it, alone while the wind is blowing.
It was the prime act and for the first time I wasn't playing,
The antagonist,
The villain,
The hated,
The worst,
The ghost.
I was simply alive.
The water in my hair,
The razor sharp wind on my cold skin,
My ciggaretes destroyed and drowning in my pocket.
There was nothing that could stop me,
From finally living.
149 · Nov 2018
°ode to my hopeless self°
stranger Nov 2018
Bruised violet sky of the mornings
Question my empathy
Blood red midnight skies
Take care of me.
It's been the same for days
Me and hurting for others.
I'm trying to find different ways
Of turning love into a color
And hate into desire.
It's been a couple of long nights
Of manufacturing dreams made out of worn out luster.
I'm staring right into the lights
Of bright disaster.
Love me rotting wood
Loosening up to the wind
Keep me painted in ****
I'm just a poisonous fiend.
Fading away into the blue
I wrote this while staring at a sad boy playing drums.  Me trying to fix him won't fix me
stranger Oct 2021
My swollen lip
I bit it when I was freezing.
That one rib throbbing from underneath me
Yours are moving graciously,
Creasing the skin between the bowed up package of 24-
Ribs wrapped in my clothes since it was hot enough to make summer in my room in this almost November.
I sigh.
Naturally we talk about whatever you'd like to hear from me.
Nothing too personal of course but I'm listening.
*** and boys and *** and boys and the ****** of falling in love with feminine energy.
So innocent is the love of woman I bet we're synching.
I stare at your nose as I blabber about a rethorical woman I'd be afraid to eat out in case I won't satisfy her.
You gleam in confidence discoursing me about it.
The words of woman, the touch of enchantress.
I give up on continuing, ending in something about my self hatred instead of *****.
The earth tremors know I ache to be loved and to love it.
I told you too.
It isn't me, but anonimity that's keeping me so neutral but frantically ******.
"you're so interesting..."
Thanks let's talk about clitoral ******* and prostate training, while I cry about not intending.
While I long to be dreamed about and lusted over.
While I remain bold in my silence.
What a skill to be given.
I bit my lip when it was freezing,
At the thought of ******* some sense into me.
stranger Mar 2022
What am I to do with the peonies that've sprung,
In my lung,
Since you last kissed me?
My veins thawed from spring and your touch I'm becoming-
The lovers card flipped along with the fool debating beginnings.
144 · Jul 2018
=jealousy=
stranger Jul 2018
Jealousy has sold me cheap,
Tore inside my heart and jeans.              
Sold me to a stranger person
That doesn’t know what caring means.
jealousy
143 · Jan 2022
dinner table
stranger Jan 2022
the stories of how we fell in love
the countless trains, the willful strangers and their cars
the made-up midnight meals,
the need to escape, to lie to parents, to discard patience
it is indeed a story to make me fuller,
some filler in place for the food I haven't eaten in years.
how is it that it's always the disrupted marriages that have the greatest adventures?
"we were kids in love, no money, never dreaming of fortunes"
young forever in all the terminals
142 · Jan 2022
effervescent like the sky
stranger Jan 2022
Six months at best
I counted them myself
Nothing that this doe gaze can manufacture
Nothing this sunlit glaze can save
6 months to indent...
myself,
into some love before it gets taken away
again.
Spring in ******* January;
Flutter my lashes see what you can do for me.
These honeypot eyes can't soften my demise
when you're gone.
I don't want to leave you roaming
in a song.
I know my eyes will be the ones to take me away,
when I'm alone.
To confine me, solitaire,to ensure you're not there
anymore...
Fragranced lullaby that puts me to is that another place will build another me so I can understand how to love and how to breathe.
House is playing games on me,
Pipes keep on popping, blood won't flow coherently.
I think life might be cheating on me.
stranger Feb 2019
Do know
That when I put that ciggarete on my soft lips
I've given up
To the world's blunts and hits
I've changed my motto to **** everything.
Do know that when I inhale the devil's fragrance
I'd probably be madly in love with him
Like I've always been.
Bathing in the world of what they call sin
I'm loving it.
But yes
,
Do know that when that ciggarete is smoked
I've probably put down all my rules and walls
Probably decided that life wouldn't end if I try its finest poisons.
Sweet sweet love
141 · Oct 2018
____/neon lights\____
stranger Oct 2018
Neón lines on broken machinery
Warm showers and cold lingerie.
Neon lights repel and embrace me
Warm showers are just bath wannabes
Skyscrapers at night
Irking the moon
No humans in sight
The surface is cool.
Neon lights can't warm it up
They're just pretty to look at.
But I swallow them up slowly so maybe
I'll be considered holy.
And I enter my warm shower, only warm place I have left.
I let it combine the neon lights with the water.
So I can die slowly in the fluid neon and rest.
Get it? It's like throwing the toaster in the bath:)
139 · Aug 2021
family ties family lies
stranger Aug 2021
I notice the masked unknown
The year stained disturbances
Some kind of effect I wouldn't know how to call
Guess it's the charms of overly-consumed marriages.
It's the bitter reproaches
And the lowly messages.
It's the awkwardness with which my dad over-explains himself
For simple occurances
Misread instances
I'm sick oh hearing it.
My mother flaunting her insecurities
She capitalises her hold over me.
I'm a trophy, I'm a trophy.
The way the both stare gleefully.
I embody the price to modify genetically
Anger, regret, hate all take corporality.
I'm beaming
The lack of romance I grew up in and my obsession with it developing.
I'm revealing disconnected personalities.
My mother and father might take pride in it,
My bluntness, my unjustified humanity
But sometimes all I see in me
Is family gesturing,
Just mere mimicking.
A real life harlequin.
138 · Dec 2021
drunken kiss
stranger Dec 2021
promised I'll get drunk
settled for getting distracted.
sunk down the floor,wanted the alcohol minus the vomiting.
but eyes shine around me so I become less
vigilant...more  human...
a cure for broken shoulders.
your mouth smells like home I'm feeling better.
bickering in and out of the odour of cracked mandarin peels and ***** shots poured in drunken fever.
impersonate each other see who ***** up better,
put a *** out for the table
hide it from the lover.
just some hiccups to get over.
go outside-skin bare
check the pebbled floor make sure you don't trip and bury yourself there,
gotta flip the pack, take out the vanilla cigarrete,
one for you, then for me.
you'll finish in one minute, I'll finish in thirty...
seconds-until I melt on this chair cuz I remembered I was left alone on my birthday and there was no pack of 'friends' to throw me in the air.
so sudden though I'm sure it'll evaporate.
open the fridge, grab a cube of ice, smash it with my molars hoping it'll get me back to:
dancing minimally and laughing more then I should be,
indulging in things I otherwise,wouldn't be doing ,
letting the me from tommorow handle present me fooling.
eyes have been wider now they simmer at the surface only for your hand to rest on my leg,
like a dog,
like a frozen sociopath.
laugh again, crack a joke for the years I won't get back.
I touch,reveriee,then hollow out
so many thoughts I'm fighting the urge to lack sense and halt myself,into some other place.
hell perhaps,bed most certainly.
fun doesn't last much when lonely but it lasted enough for me.
I loved it.
I'll go to sleep.
whiskey antiseptic I'm coating my teeth with anything but it,wishing it would take me to the morning
I wish it lasted a little more
just
just a little
137 · Jul 2018
sun’s advice
stranger Jul 2018
The sun’s making space for its own warmth
It’s leading me on a far away path
Even though my way is forth
I go way back into the black
And the sun cramps out of it
Telling me to go on and continue what I started
I told it that I cannot fit
Somewhere I wasn’t invited.
132 · Nov 2021
dull english classes
stranger Nov 2021
I
to draw blood
and
let me sing
hollow words
of a
hollow body

II
to reek of havoc
and stain with chaos
I wish your hands
-liquid silver,
would melt and
burn off
my nerves
as you
caress my head

III
silently
all in the flutter
of a moth's wings.
picture me
reincarnated
through your touch
musing & murmuring
this

IV
fragile mind
this
restless time
oh to be held
stranger Oct 2021
Break jaws, shatter bones
To live through anger and adrenaline
Maybe that's what's meant for me
Chaos.
What's your love got to do with me?
I'm cold and inadequately heartbroken
All you give me is ciggaretes...at least they're free.
Ears booming, did you touch me or am I mistaken?
An unwanted kiss would fuel the minimum
For me to live.
But you don't and you wouldn't.
When is it my turn?
To feel the profound and the earthquaking?
To not rely on anger to fill me.
I could cry on this bus
Could cry on the way home
I could cry but why would I
Ever feel anything.
This uneventful life they all call a movie
Is it so cinematic or have I been lying?
The anger learnt to speak for me.
To take to pride when shame is overthrown
To dream of genocide when life is aglow.
I have been hurtful lately
Raking up my dads brain about how he left me
Catching my mom unaware and sneaking in a memory.
I've been told my anger is holier than my guilt,
So shall it be.
I will burn the me that's been appearing.
I will **** her in cold blood and paste her tongue on the ceiling.
Boil her eyes and leave them dangling
Punish her for staring, punish her for living.
131 · Aug 2020
how may i choose peace?
stranger Aug 2020
The train
****** to wait for me as i count my steps
Going away
And returning
It always passes
Waiting for me to suddenly be stuck to the railroad
Waiting for me to never hear it
I think the train follows me but that's foolish
So i stay cradled in my words, veiled by the moon and my alternating fictitious emotions,
Wanting to be young forever
For being stuck in this timeline just makes everything beautiful.
My ****** youth makes bliss out of misery and condemns my joy for it to be kept for moments like these,
Retrospective of my self, time and the right way to be,
Startled by my conflicting sentiments,
Young anger of the frustrated, power hungry and discontent,
But grateful, for what I've lived and seen.
This is no note or ode to death,
Just a gentle message that i am well
And that I've been and felt plenty
So if thy mark of the end would think I'm ready,
I wouldn't cry, I wouldn't beg to stay in the remnants of me.
But if there's more to breathe than what I've had then, I'll inhale happily.
For the train to or not to hit me,
I'll have to keep waiting,
I promise i am not glamorizing, pain or anger or even lucidity
I am simply accepting comfort, commodity, a vile of short bliss before morning comes in emptyly.
I won't plaster this on the eyes of people to see but rather keep it, treasured antique of my immobility while I for once enjoy living, morbidly, but truly.
The train will get me
#me
stranger Aug 2019
2 days
In 2 days I've learnt to hold my nostrils closed not to cry and to spray the house with floral mist.
Nothing else.
I feel it in my bones I don't belong here.
Amongst the people that speak my own language.
They speak such dirt, in a way that angers me.
Makes me want to sell my language at an auction.
Anger.
My mom told she'll never let me walk the streets of my city alone.
That this ain't no place for me but she still brought me here telling me that there's no place I wouldn't blossom.
Wrong!
It's been two days and I'm already withering.
Waiting for the hot water that's never coming to fill up my bath I'm daydreaming about never being born here.
I'm afraid of speaking in public so I use any other language, making others speak for me, forcing my sister to not blow a word in the language she grew up with.
She doesn't understand and I'm sorry for making her to such thing.
She doesn't realise her sister's a coward who's afraid of her own words.
And mama.
Her accent always gives it away so I hide.
Rotting in between the boxes in my room and whisper strumming my guitar hoping it'll put me to sleep.
This is no home.
No place for me.
But I've learnt to hold my nose and to not cry.
I am no such killjoy to cry at the hope of others.
Such blind hope though, I'd say.
Switching from:
"we'll never have money again"
                       to
"you shouldn't be so cynical about coming back"
It's something I don't understand.
I'm so afraid ill lose this language.
That I frantically write and speak just to ensure myself I'm not losing my mind.
I can't find the right words and I can't seem to be able to speak properly.
I still seem to force a laugh or too ironically I feel like I programed myself to do such a thing.
Calling and talking to people far away but close to my heart just to make them laugh, telling them I'm in pain but laughing right after like it's just a split second of regret that'll go away.
I've gone back to lying.
I've never stopped lying.
**** me.
Stealing signs off the street and acting like a stranger.
That name was always meant for me.
A stranger to the world,
My family
My friends.
A stranger to myself.
The first poem I wrote after I moved back
129 · May 2021
!
stranger May 2021
!
My mommy saw death today again,
She sat on the stairs, ciggarete in hand and spewed away,
How her mornings were **** and her cigs don't really hit today.
So I knew it was serious and put on my concerned face, the one she only loves anyway, and I told her not to dismay.
And as I pick at my skin and other ***** insufferences I listen as her voice forces, a sadness as to alarm me this may be concerning.
She says that on her way to work this morning she saw a little old lady in a crane,
This little old lady tripped on straight surface, hit her head so hard, a haematoma bloomed in her brain.
And mom blows the smoke again.
"I heard the sound and the pain in my leg did not matter" she said. "I ran so fast, I was so worried that little old lady cannot die on me".
So she ran and the woman was bleeding, "her mask so ****** she could've choked" as she confirmed, "many passed by as I was trying to lift this lady but none bothered to care"
She said that at once a biker dropped his bike and jumped in to help as they called the ambulance in despair.
Mommy said she asked the lady her name, age and a kid she could contact.
Little old lady was 83 and remembered her boy's number fully.
And so my mommy calls to tell him that his mom's at the emergency and he picked up and said:
"Has a car hit her yet? "
Death is nice
129 · Jul 2018
Untitled
stranger Jul 2018
I think I'm out of words
I think my art became dull
I feel like the two swords
Just gave up fighting for the crown.
Is it that there's nothing to write about?
Or just plain boredom?
If I'll have to count
I think it's a week until I stop forever.
What will I do without writing my heart out everywhere?
I won't care, I wouldn't bare
Without the only thing keeping me alive I could collapse anywhere.
Picking me up would be too much of a weight
And I had enough  people giving up themselves for my sake.
I'll wait...And wait
Maybe I could pick up myself one day
129 · May 2020
ᛟᛚᛞ
stranger May 2020
I wanna live my young years
Screaming at people across the terminals,
Waking up in train stations
Loving to live among others.
I wanna live in the romanticism of the teenage years.
I wanna get wasted with strangers
And sing on the boulevards.
What the **** kind of good girl am I?
What the **** kind of intimidating hypocrite am I?
What the ****?
Time is passing by me while I watch it from my top bunk
From my bathtub
From my phone camera.
Only if I could say I ate my years like the other kids,
"I smoked my years away" or "drugs ate at my sanity"
No.
It's just the glamour veil.
I watched my years
I didn't eat or smoke them.
I stood by and watched them fly and now I feel old.
and now i feel old
127 · Aug 2019
[{i ain't got much to do}]
stranger Aug 2019
Cold walls.
I don't have much to do.
Just keeping my teeth clean and the sky blue.
I should give up on these calls.
Stay in the words leave the music.
Too much aspiration for someone who's fading.
Just keep on hoping.
Going head first won't ever hurt my physique.
But it'd scar my breathing.
Escalating and dropping.
Colliding into the form of my eyelashes falling.
But i ain't got much to do.
Just keep on looking pretty and never stop defying.
After all defiance makes them all feel guilty.
Ain't it?
Look at the crumbs of the older generation leaving behind suicide notes and hair fallen in the drain painting the baths green.
I ain't got much to do but live with the curious ideas and hopes that'd I'd see people again... Useless.
Just like me... The embodiment of summer rain. Nourishing for its moments of life but draining and drying the land once the sun's back up.
Summer rain.
I ain't got much to do really.
Just follow the course with no objections or passion.
Staticly making my way through life.
I'm too young to be thinking these things.
I should be there expressing what I fight for and laughing in the crowds.
I'm too young to be this.
I've given myself more years than I should've.
But I ain't got much to do left.
Just keeping myself alive.
4 days left
127 · Jul 2018
Untitled
stranger Jul 2018
I want to get lost in the deep seas
Feel my heartbeat race with the waves
I want to lay somewhere no one sees
And wait for the next moon faze
All this because I found most peace in the water
Pieces of my soul belong in all those sunken sea shells
In there I could see everything better
I can feel happiness inhabit all my cells.
Do I ever want to escape this peaceful dream?
Never...
stranger Aug 2021
I fantasise about being stapled to the walls of every house I've ever been in
To be glorified iconography
So Jesus crucified could never compare to me.
But I digress and ignore my fantasy
Dig deeper in my denied anxieties
Or at least that how I've been feeling
Taught to believe what my father always told me
"Qui ante dolem plus dolem" scarring my skin.
Reads as follows straight to the core:
"Who suffers before will suffer a lot more"
You see I think that to some I've been just a blur while to others I've been pure life.
I think I'm just a field study for my paternal figure
Too much of a cynical creature too little to inspire.
He thinks he can cheat life by cheating himself but it's all dire
Amy Winehouse knows best she even sang about cheating herself, it's nothing but piling lies onto the fire.
So my father smiles and says I search for disaster, search for situations, imagine doom charging at me faster and faster and faster...
But I interrupt him, I'm rational.
I go in with low expectation so if it turns out for the best I can truly enjoy the consolation and if it turns to be the way I imagined it I can lavish in the universe's approbation.
I say I despise his way of living,
He asks what is there to hate in it.
And i am baffled and injurious behaviour is sparking,
Staggering, stuttering I simply ask how is that he can live so falsely happy so easily, how is it not torturous for further developing.
He says nothing is false, it's all hoping, it's ignoring stress, it's living authentically.
And I think to myself dissapointedly
If only
I was bolted in these walls and didn't have to live, judge or decide.
Just watching cemented in time.
maybe I am
stranger Jan 2021
may i impress
and may i terrify
the streets confess
that they search for my eye.
contently lost,
i do my best to irritate.
though if my eyes find you... will you fear or run to.
74 stares, 16 call outs, 7 offered rides, 1 ****** coffee.
all for a pretty outfit.
like nirvana said
**** me.
they would never.
because along with the pretty there is volatile anger
eyes that search to burn not to kiss,
hands that will only ever touch to ****.
but still so pretty,
mirror me admits,
said she'd **** me.
such beautiful lost potential walking the streets
floating in this pavement sea.
dream about me will you?
something nice, some sun, a smile or maybe even two,
dream of me and love,
not hunts nor haunting questions.
dream of me in peace.
serenity.
****, did it on purpose, attention deficiency **** kid, that's me
125 · Jul 2018
too social to be anxious
stranger Jul 2018
It's getting harder to say sorry
Sometimes I ain't even brave enough usually all the feeling i carry
Bring my confidence deep in this rust.
Sometimes my ego just turns into dust.
It's getting harder to say thank you
Because I don't know how to
I don't know who to say it to
Gratefulness escapes my mind i can't really express it
And because everyone thinks I am ungrateful it all goes to ****.
It's getting  harder to say hello
Or maybe the continuation's harder
People have transformed so
That I can't talk to them unless I stop dreaming about a forever.
And now since my heart's been infused with blue
It has been the hardest to say I love you.
I don't usually deal with anxiety but here is what happens when I try to calm down after getting super anxious
stranger Jul 2018
Bobby pins and curls
All the dances and twirls
Lie to me would you blinding light?
Lie to me so maybe I can forget it all tonight
But I didn’t deserve that luxury yet did I?
I tried to make myself pretty for you
But I wasn’t enough for your picky eye
So you turned my radiant pink heart blue.
124 · Jul 2021
grout
stranger Jul 2021
And then there's me in the grout of the bathroom tiles
In the root of the family tree ties.
There's me raging about death and how it defies
Me when there's nothing left but the cries.
Desperation takes place of admiration and now all I can do is stare at the present screaming at the past and praying to the future.
This dead horse of a family lies to itself in closure, prays to stick together to simmer in its hatred and I see it all.
The cowardice to leave is stronger than the search for peace and I'm again left alone.
Colder and colder the night angry and older and summer boils until it's over.
I run out of air every night and that caters to the wish of never waking up tommorow,
But still I do
Hopes brooding and wishes become sour now all I have to do is stick to the hour.
Watch the clock unfold its vanity then respill it all in me.
I'm empty and waiting
Fading...
Like every night lately.
yea it's July ew
123 · Jul 2018
imisstalkingtoyou
stranger Jul 2018
Call me we both are just as lonely
Call me I miss the happy me
Call me I am over your drunken laughter
Call me right before your enlightened disaster.
Call me, you forsaken sin
Call me when ice lives inside my skin
Call me when you feel lonely within
Call me when you know what I worth and mean.
Call ME....
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