Category: random feels

Narci-sext

I cry after I masturbate
at the accompaniment of piano.
It's a great relief all things considered.
I don't have to think of other people.

The attractions of sex as a female:
the titts, the lips, the old cave.
It's the primal mission of survival
with the soul weeps another layer.

Why do we have to think when we don't have to?
To make art? To fill the gap? To beg for more?
Keep it simple while simple gets you dead.
I'd take that hint & cram it up my own ass.

My heaven.

My heaven is a Japanese 7/11.
The fresh stuff, seasonal miracles.
All lovelily, lovingly packaged.
The drinks are elixirs, the chips angel wings.
The prices are cheap, at the counter
they apologize for their humble politeness.

I'd get a veggie bun steamy hot from the oven
and egg sandwiches that have no rough edges,
a rare find is the holiday white peach thingies.
All kinds of onigiris especially with wild plants.
After I die, I'd go straight to a Japanese 7/11.

Garden.

There's a dagger in my heart,
shackles on both my arms.
My legs are running fast.
All I see is blood red.

The contorted soul looking for relief.
Don't know how & don't know where.
Too scared to look within,
afraid there's hell fire.

What's important is on the inside.
Know the garden that's neglected.
Build fences instead of walls.
It takes time & wisdom to be organic.

The sea.

I'm correcting a giant barnacled ship
whose rudder's stuck at true Pain
in the mindless sea where no fish swims
where the skeleton crew is true to its name.

The Capitain searches for the Voodoo doll
from a witch with bloody needles & a kind smile.
He's stuck with her & she with him.
Though they struck land, there they remained.

While alive.

I didn't make it.
I've died a long time ago.
I remember being alive
and it scares me so.
Now I'm a waking demon
walking among wolves.
I see your laughters & tears.
They are my entertainment.
There's a place called, "
After Death Before Dark".
I see you there but
you're so so far.
Is it me or the
lack of a spark?
For an ordinary day,
the fire that consumes us?

Inner light.

The wind is a coat that I wear.
She holds my hand, makes me aware.
Half moon, mid night, all quiet except
what's there and not there like I.
Search for the light that I lost with fear.
I don't believe my life's worth anything.
Regrets, outbursts, silence, jealousy,
hold on to an evil when he promises things.
It's not a path but a mad dash to shore.
Will I make it? Did you make it? Tell me more.
The things I shy away turn out to be what I need.
What I was afraid of was the inner light
that tells me that I'm loved & I can live.

The full weight of my heart.

Feels like a bomb wrapped in lead
and tender like a missile in the air.
I try to juggle it knowing it will land
on a sunny day & it's gonna be a mess.
The full weight of my heart ain't no joke.
It's formless, sluggish yet sharp.
Sometime I wish it will be quiet
and doesn't know what it truly desires.

Sink.

Throwing stone into the heart
so it sinks, nobody can find it.
Mama says it's better this way.
Dada says it's all fake.
It's drowning & hella heavy.
The tide is all confused & muddy.
All because of the occasional pebble
that nobody bothered to deal with.
Now we have a mountain of trash
with the lost pieces of a child
at the bottom.