Mahatma Gandhi once said:
“A ‘No’ uttered from the deepest conviction is better than a ‘Yes’ merely uttered to please”
This was a long time before he died
if apologies and self-deception wouldn’t stop me from dying too
I would at least try to become a martyr for whatever cause I believe in
I’m just far too fearful of what comes after that
and had I the self-restraint to put my consumption on hold
to starve myself all for a better place
I would make the attempt to weather the hunger to prove to myself
that I’m strong, that I’m pure – But I’m not, not now
Truth is I am and always have been burdened by complacency
turning a blind eye around blind corners, confronted by
up-turned noses and volume to drown out the pleas for assistance
facing resistance with malleability and the right words at the right time
because I don’t like confrontation – my convictions are a victim
of striving for the end goal that I will change in order to get there
Thoughts
Home ate my heart out
I find symbolism in the moments
living in train cars and taxicabs
Between here, home and where my heart is
with a night cap, cloak and dagger stabbed
straight into my open chest
paint pictures when I remenisce
of times where all my female friends were angels
now all their wings are clipped
it’s funny how I’m still alone
still holding on to better songs
and better words in better poems
when you used to mouth along.
I’ve been a ghost this year
and my parent’s say come visit
my little brother hates me
’cause he knows I do not miss it
all the shouting in the living room
and holes in corridor walls
that house is black and blue
and it has liquor on it’s breath
it was the death of my childhood
and stands as memorial of dreams
but the best thing to ever come out of it
was me,
still holding on to better songs
and better words in better poems
when you used to mouth along
All is flair in Tolstoy and Exhibition
I broke my own eyesight with St. Patricks closed fist
in a bar fight with the boyfriend of my first Kiss Me I’m Irish
I might have layed on the accent a little
Talked with more than a little flair
But In love and war and drunk girls on Exhibition street
All’s fair, so I got beat fair and blue and white
You should have seen the other guys from this side of the bar(s)
Maddison
She’s broken, like me
a fragile little marionette
I played with her heartstrings
enough to hear her smile sing
we kissed in an empty schoolyard
elegent apostles leaning awkwardly
no truth in love we dared to tell
our lie was told to spite this hell
and our lie was love. Adolescent one of us
enough to be a secret trist, our cloak and dagger
toke and drag, her coughing
cold air showed her breathe
and when I held her skin to mine
a whispered “yes” was all it took
for the last shred of innocence to leave
A muse and a shoreline.
Spaced between ivory and ebony
is a hidden sea, one where you can
drown, once when I held my breath
I found a note in a shipwreck that read
“I’m not a sailor, I’m a vessel”
It made me shiver as I realised;
I don’t think I comprehend the meaning
of music anymore.
Highschool bullshit 