POETRY and PREJUDICE

to all of you who recognize themselves in my work:
i'm not a hack. i don't write to please you. there's this one rule here:
if you have had even the slightest influence on my life,
i. will. write. about. you.
deal with it.
happy reading!

четвъртък, 2 април 2015 г.

flipping coins

(they say) come come with us
i'm riding the bus alone
the light is warm, but
the window's cold
i'm busy flipping coins
i'm busy flipping souls

I.
you don't need to have choice
to be made to choose -
it's always a lost cause -
it's either break and lose
or break and abuse;
say hi to neon lights
at midnight
all my life
cigarettes at one a.m.
sitting on the threshold again
that's my pretty picture frame

II.
(they say)
come with us
don't sit alone don't cry
but they don't crave being lonesome
the way i miss being alive
i guess i kind of enjoy it
life is not a walk in the park
but this state of
breathing on pause
is all i know being about
i wasn't joking about those corners
it's not a figure of speech
when i was 17 i chugged
down half a bottle of bleach
you had to see me
throwing up blood in the bathroom
so don't laugh. or do, if you want to.
i mean, when you squint that way,
somebody eventually has to...

III.
don't fucking say come;
i need you not to go,
i'm sick of being loyal, lad,
home means nothing at all,
i grew up sniffing chords and words,
i grew old in somebody else's shoes,
namecalling,
fistslamming,
pitchblack mornings,
muffled crying,
my father beat me black and blue
when i was in the fifth grade
cause the truth escaped my lips
like i was old enough
to know how to lie for myself.

(i say) come come with me
i'm scared of being alone
the room is warm, but
my veins are cold,
my whole life i've been
flipping coins,
my whole life i've been
the flipping soul.


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