my noose-03.06.16

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*artwork- via docolucci.deviantart.com

 

When fantasy is so brilliantly blinding

I delightfully step up into my noose

Sweetest addiction of being stood up to

Is strong and present and oh so exciting

After all, there’s so much to lose

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dedicated to momi vaknin, a man who creates bread-16.07.11

*artwork-“le regret” by charbel samuel aoun

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another kind eyes decorated with a smile
to celebrate all the good things
that are out there,
made all the bad things that are in me
rise. shamelessly.
enclosed in my own self
i laugh out loudly
waking up all the demons,
and scaring off all the angels,
who guard no more.
i laugh out loudly,
watching loads of instances
of choices that were never made
dancing, swirling with the dust
of chances that were never taken.

well fed-08.07.11

*artwork-“fatigue” by tom bennett via saatchiart.com

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I grew to hate the aftertaste of your kisses.

It lingers for hours.

My home suffocates under the shield of your cigarettes

And leftovers of lust.

You’ve been worshiped for so long

That now I can barely take you.

I am sick of hearing your impotent words

And your once mind-bending touch

Went sour.

 

I am overdosed.

Yet so scared of letting go.
 

 

 

 

the shadow of nicole and marrast-04.02.11

*artwork-  “impostor” by leslie ann o’dell via leslieannodell.com

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being displeased
tiny bug bites within
feeds on disappointment
eats frozen invoiced words
wormish sleeky tales
of illusions that won’t ever bring light
unfriendly friends
sly enemies
hello, i say
when they come so close
that i can touch with my bare hands
feel through steely hearts
look into their eyes
inhale their lies
this stream of  hollow promises
destined to die quietly
but my stomach
holds hope, in the farthest rooms
of the reddish matter
that’s called intestines
i like to show it off
and to pretend
being the fair one.

cold home-13.01.11

*artwork-“embrace” by egon schiele

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will i ever conquer the vibrant?

Caledonian sky was beautiful
sometimes i could feel free
and scared no more
but here i go, cold home
that feels alien
i’ve lost track of time
in my own 2.5 rooms
where i walk with my eyes closed at nights,
touching guidelines of walls.
my hands are different.
every piece of my body is unpleasantly new
though i am not renewed, tired.
may be this is the sense of freedom
freedom-like dungeon
underneath changing skies,
the city was vicious and i needed (to)
revenge.

i wonder what was it?
how lonely i felt embraced by the loved one.
how lonely my loved one has probably felt.

layered-4.10.10

*artwork-“smoke” by brigitte werner via pixabay.com

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for more than two hundred and seventy days
i pushed away, it was not easy.
funny it feels, the tips of stiff fingers tremble
and heart pounds so fast.
this face in front of me. still precious? or is it?
just impatience,
covered with thin layer of curiosity
covered with thick layer of urge to destroy.
everything’s so familiar
these feminine hands,
hiding behind ever present cigarette
and convenient smoke.
hello, roman.
i just wanted to say good-bye.
 

she says i’ve got to-17.01.10

*artwork- frustration by mehran roozbahni

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she says i’ve got to try to like this little girl
and i wonder, what is the way?
i wish i could friend her on facebook

she says i’ve got to stop pushing her away,
stop erasing her from this hard disk
on the back of my mind,
mossy used to say

she says i should be empathetic…
should i?
for something that i can not really grasp?
or remember?

coward.

i hide among all these names that barely have faces
just so i won’t have to see my own
and there they go
so precious so unimportant
i keep this puzzle of pieces with no unique form
i choose where to place them
while i lay in my bed and do not remember
whose stomach is pressed against my back.