Tuesday, December 29

All That I Could Remember From October Twenty Nine - Thirty

It was a happy day.
Never was different from any other day.
The dusk was bit cozy.
The nonversation was too short between us, always ended as it used to be.
Next day was literally a drama.
Unexpected and killing.
I never could ask ‘why’.
But I did, he didn’t ever utter a word.
An unofficial dudevorce.

It’s all that I could remember from that late October.

Monday, December 28

Taken The Wrong Way

I knocked the door just to make sure that it shuts back again. To close all the possible things between us, or maybe I don’t want hurt myself again. I tried to smile but my dysphoria crushed my lips and weed out my tongue and so couldn’t apologies neither couldn’t shout on your face. I stitched my eye so that no one could see me cry but even then the tears tore off my eyelids and the magma flowed into my sea of tears, it flowed until they clotted.

[Artwork by Chen Ping]

And now I pricked my ear, and am deaf.
My inner self have turned rock.
Psyche doesn’t want to listen to your prickly and sexy sedative voice.
She did warn me to stay away.
The old lady did stop me.
But I was all with you.
And now you don’t want to answer me.
And then.
Eight weeks passed, I knocked again.
All I got was something that hid everything from me.
Am fine with it cause my emotions are on dope.
 Disgustingly you are a swine.
Am the one misunderstood and taken the wrong way all the time..

[Artwork by Zdzisław Beksiński, 1984]

Friday, December 25

Sky Is Limited

[Artwork by Chen Ping]

Sky is limited.
Ain’t your dreams.
Teleport to that world,
Where you are illimitable,
Where you are untold,
Where you are not just a story.
But a soul of an entire world of inception.

Be the sire of your dreams.

Friday, December 18


My words crack, cause am bruised.
Don’t want it to happen again.
Please I won’t be able to handle.
My flesh is torn off.
You got lots of things to know about me.
That me which you haven’t yet discovered.

I miss your selfishness, really on to my nerves.
Dark never leaves me asleep now.
My eyes are wet indeed, with tears of lonesomeness.
Hope builds up and falls brutishly.
Don’t run away.
Am your chum, and you, an alter ego of mine.

Monday, November 23


[Artwork by Jon Jacobsen]

Don’t exploit my feeling.
I don’t know how worst I would be when I would retaliate back,
To your not so significant approach.
I would just scribble on your face.
Or I may chisel your roots.
My tongue won’t let you hear what I feel but my actions can.

Wednesday, November 18


[Artwork by Ian Hornak]

The demon in me cries for those who leave me dead.
They pulled off the universe beneath my feet, sky above me.
And pushed me off my bed…
The thrust sucked in vacuum, suck out my ego.
I always sought for love, and you gave me more than that.  …more than that.
You cut my throat, salted the wound, and peeled off my skin.
And let go to suffer.

But still the demon cries for you. 

Thursday, October 29


[Photo by Steoville]

Am drunk
So nothing gets in my head
Better stay away.
Am a bull-headed asshole.
I was wrong with the people who I never ought to meet.

Am crossed with you.

Wednesday, October 14


Am a walking mannequin when am out in street.

[Artwork by Salvador Dali]

Thursday, October 8


I feel like I got to make an effort.
Connecting the broken cable,
Twisted and torn away,
I have gone through all the pain, since I couldn’t spell a word.
He, who is true, deserves.
Am holding back with a time bomb,
I will burst up my brain when I touch the copper.
Let me try once,
And I will disappear

Wednesday, September 30

Her Fall

And she falls off from the mount.
The tall story that she believed was just a fiction.
She couldn’t hold the white lie.
And she hop’s off the mount again.
Broken hip, Bleeding horn.
She weeps, shedding tears, keening.
And she hop’s off the mount again.
But her bohemian soul still stood there.

Hushed as halcyon era and idyllic. 

Sunday, September 27


My body glows with the shame of being with you.
I expand and contract as I suck in the poison from your lips.
Bitter enough.
Growl tongue.
And she rips of my jaw.

Friday, September 25

All That She Can Do

I burn,
You suffer,
He dies and she smiles.
We fuck,
I explore,
Live life and she carries.
I am symmetry,
Built for you,
Custom made and she owns it.
I drown,
I die,
She kills and she leaves.

Wednesday, September 23

You Could Never Know

I can’t believe that the world in which I live in is all just a fake word.
I can’t even believe that the world where I live in is of humans who eat themselves to survive.
I can’t understand what greediness is, even after I am so much greedy.
I can’t understand what these feelings are which makes me write beyond I could reach.
I can experience the limitlessness that I can have with my life ahead but too short.
I know that you are not able to figure out what I say, and I don’t want anyone to be.
And my words best define me without letting anyone know.
Everybody have an incomplete broken part of my story and no one is one.

And I am the one.

Sunday, September 20


It’s dark out there and it’s pretty rough.
Lick it with your mushy tongue and that vibe of ecstasy on your face makes me filthier and as my carpals reach for your ovaries and you shout out as I grind you in me.
I feel thirstier.


Tuesday, September 15


I feel like am plain in and out.
As the wind blows through the void and reaches the other end of my head.
I feel null.
Am stuck in my cot ,staring at the corner with my pen halfway down my throat.
I feel rotten.
I am done with the insects around me and there fcuking morals.
And now am nude and for love, like a beast.
I feel free.


Wednesday, September 9

To Youthful Virgins

Am a tore page from many chapters.
Being crumbled by hands of many, stabbed and burned as they pass.
Crushed feelings like never before sprout deep in me.
I have lost many people to whom I owned a bond.
Tore apart like it never should be united.
It’s like am waiting for someone as I wake up with the star.
Facing the irreconcilable me on the cheval glass is my first vision before dawn.

And it’s not the infirm me.
He is strange, unknown, and distinct to the youthful virgins.

Thursday, September 3

My Current Frame Of Mind

Am quite undissolved to myself.
Being quiet for a while from my inane life.
 My savagely violent tears cut my cheeks.
 And am not aware of my impassive style of my tale.

The Line

It is meant to be the way it is to be, deeper it goes, better cutting yourself with a butter knife, it hurts more, I don’t want to ...