Buzz Session

So I came home from the usual madworldmadness suffocated

in blue ashes and roach spray

and as soon as I'm out of it, things are never as they were.

It's a daily Santa Claus visual surprise.

A woowoowobbly knees, flashcrash presentation of sorts.

A retro rennaissance painting

dances 

                dances

               dances

dances

before my eyes.

*~*

..

*~*

I gotta start wearing my glasses again. :)

Jibber-jabber outbreaks of teachers

    in their custodian connivance

I don't believe, I don't achieve

In that denim religion seminars

     of pretense and curtains

Smelled strongly of burnt rubber

     and evaporating paint

Dizzying, addicting, scheming

And half of us throw ourselves

    in uneducated education

Masked with theories and logics uncomplained

Whoever invented the notion that "love knows no boundaries" is completely out of it.  I admire the notion though.  I admire it the same way I think it is ironic that people still hold on to what politicians say though in the back of their heads, they know it's all bullshit.

-----

you bite my cheeks
they automatically go numb
to welcome
your barbed teeth making its incision
your eyes go white
to welcome
the orgasmic bliss
in that second, you feel
in that second, i don't
you catch a glimpse
of what it's like to be me
i catch a glimpse
of what it's like to be you

-----

It's finally come to this.

Sorry, still no beat poetry for me.  I'm still stuck in this old school/emo-retro phase, which I obviously do not enjoy. 

Hypocrisy decided to extend its stay as you can see, even though the welcome mat was already kicked off the doorstep.

------

I can't remember how it was to feel complete.  More and more, loneliness creeps up on me.  I feel like I happily threw away a part of my body without any second thoughts but held on to the sad but reassuring fact that I'll get it back anyway.

Like when I was 14, I coughed out my heart and it looked so shiny and new.  I happily watched it disappear into the pockets of a boy whose dreams were made up entirely of action movies.  A year and 4 months later, I demanded my heart back.  He gently placed it on my lap.  I held it up onto my face and felt unfamiliar rough spots from underneath.
"I wasn't able to find the chipped off pieces", he said apologetically. 

I didn't mind.  It was worth it anyway.

Then when I turned 16, I threw my heart up again for another one.  Still having the same enthusiasm as I had with the last.  Got it back a year and 7 months later, and it looked a mess.  Since then, I've been keeping a tube of glue in my pocket everywhere I go because it keeps falling apart once in awhile.

I didn't mind.  It was worth it anyway.

And like I said, lately for the last few months, I've been throwing my heart intentionally onto a wall just to watch it smash into tiny pieces.  This time, loneliness took form of a guy with overgrowth of facial hair and boyish smiles and deepset eyes and braces(finally...) that changes color every month. 

I don't mind.  It's still worth it.

And I'll probably never learn, I'll just keep loving instead.