a flock of birds and one stone, the aim is homegrown but, I would rather not pick on broken bones — butter-knife wounds : et tu, dominae? Julius roams the throne of Rome; unforgiving times but would you rather see the light of your home, or, your friends in a tomb ? Bordeaux, Bourguignon and Bourgogne, off the alcohol, a ticking bomb; more like Falcone and Don Corleone, the winter is offbeat, a broken metronome — my leverage has aestas on the ledge, the ledger deals in pressure-points, mathematics and, not middlemen please, don't mention another mayhem : you wouldn't, if you knew my reputation with coughed-up phlegm.
the game of the cat and the mouse, while the beef sizzles in no time, we'll have us a steakhouse; hidden underneath the cracks of your couch — off the grid, but your ballroom guestlist will surely tell you my whereabouts; hatred has the colors of a rainbow, lo and behold, mi casa, su casa, Felicia, Aestas and Lunasa : three shadows in broad daylight. an overseer in the clouds, the most high, and, then there's me and my pride; unable to pay it no mind, it's funny, how I got you out of sight while looking dead in your eyes — there's no peace, I'll be more satisfied with coming for your head, seeing all of you die.
better believe that it's all fun and games until I want to play too, face who ? even getting all of you back to school should be a crime, barely a fish in the pool, apparently, your recreational time is spent in mindless cahoots, you hopped on the bandwagon when you're the mule, the psychology isn't doing you any good, the orb of discord is going places ever since I came through — it seems like nobody wants to stay in my good graces, until I put each one of you in your places, two faces, I was only the observer until I started serving disses, like I am the dedicated server. what a pity, it's time, I get that degree on accountancy, it's time, I get that ledger and jot the totals; the Manor of Misunderstood Mortals : it's time, I end all of you in your infancy.
a flock of birds, I'm willing to spoil my hands in order to get some dirt — the situation worsens, playing it like you're the bigger person while I'm losing my patience, what's penance ? look what happens when you don't tie your laces, blatant with your lies, what you wouldn't do to keep the stories alive. the consequences of conveniences, you're scared to tell the truth, no wonder that it is only dares, please help yourself and take the elevator, before these stairs get me closer to the liars lair; gossiping in pairs, two blades of a scissor, brace yourselves before it's too late to even commit to a blunder, brace yourselves, for the surgical summer, it's either cease-fire or deceased, six-six-six, it's going to be an eventful solstice.
oh, it's Monday already, shell-shock is all around me and, sirens that are engulfed in my tinnitus — atleast, the ambulance is faster than a cop car; I think I'll survive to suffer, once again.
I've forgotten how to sleep, there it is — my spine on the page; just bury me in my bed, the white cloth reminds me of my mother, it has been so long it has been so long : being away from home does wonders to me.
loved by none, a loveless monster is all that's becoming of me — I'll remove myself with my sleight of hand; I am tired of hurting you and myself, I am tired of running out of friends : sometimes, cowardice is the easiest way out.
there's nobody to put the fire out, that's burning me alive; there's nob- let's try again, shall we ? my skin crawls at the sight of the mirror, hatred is out to get me — please, I just hope to survive this week, all alone.
there goes my life, there goes my love, there she goes away with another guy, and, she even has her new marriage license; I replaced mine with a license for liquor — forgetting is easier than forgiving, you're too hard on my liver.
look right through me when my lonely ghost passes right by you; ironical, isn't it ? how, I promised to always do right by you, and, today, I can't seem to do right by myself.
entombed in my bed, I will lose my life, if I keep waiting for you; but, I will keep waiting for you : (like the dust that your favourite book has collected overtime, like the autumn leaves that you'll walk all over, like the waves of the sea washing your feet; I keep waiting, just a touch from you could kill me, please, set me free).
I was straw-stirring the fresh lime soda that sat infront of me when somebody popped the age old generic question "whom do you love the most in the world?" It was more conversational and less of an inquiry anticipating a pondered over response which is probably why, the time it took to come up with one was less than heartbeat. "My brother", I said, resolute, undoubtable, like it was the most blatant truth I knew. They smiled. "You really can't live without him, can you? I smiled. And I just smiled.
I have loved a lot of people. I have loved my brother the most among them. And I have done that for so long that I don't know how not to. And maybe, it's true that I cannot live in a world that doesn't have him. But is he the reason I'm alive today? The 'no' that bubbles in my belly is no less resolute than the answer before was. I know it because I've questioned it more often than I'd like to. In the dead of the night, under the shower, over the sink, staring at the wall pressing a fist to my chest, while trying to breathe, you name it. And the answer is probably the only thing that has remained a constant over the years.
I love people because I want to. I love my brother the most because I choose to. But I'm alive today because someone chose me. I'm alive because my father refused to give up on me. Not even when I did. Especially when I did.
And I hope, for the life of me, I hope that it's atleast okay, even if a little selfish if the one you will die for and the one you will die without aren't one and the same.
However badly articulated, this is the most honest, most personal thing I've ever written. And I hate myself so much for ever wording this line of thought. And even more for posting it. But I also hope I never delete this, this ill-written thing.