cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts tagged “love

me reflecting on unavailable women, whether it be emotionally or by status (succinct poem)

Posted on August 3, 2020

they’repsychoanalyzing my pride. I’m ignoring the obviousa war vet with ear plugs on the fourth of julyyou’re that pyrotechnic glow on my mindthis memoir a token of antisocial expressionour vermillion bond, was anecdotal at bestdemoralizing. you’ll only ever see it as a victimless crimesiphoning bits and pieces of our symphony’s chimesitting in my oval office with petitions to signwrithing in, inconsistency, not filling in shoes fit to sizeconcealing true entities. revealing my shrinethe answers rhetorical, when i ask who am i?enough of the superstition. my existential crisisto feel like i kiss your iris, everytime i think your eyelids

nameless

Posted on June 28, 2019

it’s almost time for a confessional. let’s bathe our feet while we dance sediment wash. baptism in the chemical sand trekking through the barriers that barely stand in touch with invariance. writing love letters. barely legible; sun setters cantaloupe sky. dusk settles. what’s warm love in november? it’s cranberry cheeks. your tongue tingling. teeth surrendering ourselves to eruption. lungs blistering. freeze i’ve talked to god on occasion. mention mary and seph’ carried a mountain on my shoulders through a valley of death i’ve longed for delay. had a walk through nirvana hoisted a banner reading ‘i want to be craved’ we just want to be loved. we just want to partake. on a trotting that doesn’t involve being numb noticed your aura carrying breath…

HUMILITY

Posted on May 29, 2019

soul is sequestered. hanging fruit, in a forest of giants praying for atonement or a holy alliance molding my bones. soul seller solely uncensored sling to be highest bidder, sold to goliath liquor bottle pried in my fingers. corroded and weathered like sewing a sweater, stitching holes i’m developing linoleum tiles. alone in his centerpiece, exhausted, and smiling phone ringing. moment of silence calloused fingers, punching the rotary dialing show me a sign, show me these messages but show me something, worth something more than im fretting for patternized moments wove into metaphors tethered alignment into saturn skies orbit were all enraptured to die for worse or for deserts. for better, I’m dying choke in the sandstorm that envelops the earth lying in dirt.…

again and again, again.

Posted on January 16, 2019

again i hear footsteps awaken the creaks in the floor again. who the fucks at the door? night stand machete laid neatly in drawer revolver neath queen mattress. in case of a quarrel but there’s nothing. just repentance, contempt, intentions dissolved gun powder, protein drinks, and penniless thoughts could’ve sworn there was something. apparently not hear a swarm of bees next to me every day before dark borderline manic. try undoing the damage safe spaces fossilize our balloons & our cages as therapeutic as raindrops on metal roof interchanges interpersonal relationships via internal damnation stray further from kinship. purge the pervasion starboard the king ship. observe the insane social connection more grandeur than normal distinction hormonal response. formality close to instinction forming a bond.…

hellhound pt2

Posted on October 7, 2018

heartbreaking shattering crushing blasphemous, bludgeoning, over saturated don’t be surprised if we can’t be separated science needs a new invention to mend hearts or a swab test for tears where a story is written by the chemicals in them and the chemicals in them are only ones that i can create with my signature on them my blood, and my distinction nobody else well, that is interesting. cristian doesn’t want it to end like this the story is written by an author who has no business writing it don’t be surprised if one night we’re looking at each other eye to eye holding each other, close so close so close, i can feel you brush your passionate breaths against my lungs that fill with…

last time you said stop

Posted on August 17, 2018

sigh i don’t get it. they tell me to write happy things. the thing is you don’t feel the need to discuss your happiness on paper when you’re happy. you just embrace the moment and live it. i don’t want to talk about that. momentary silence. dusk lit bedroom apartment buzzing of cars from traffic afar, it’s when i stare into myself. melancholy loves company and misery loves to fuck with me, it’s pitiful she sticks her head in while I’m telling a story the room keeps spinning. I’m terribly sorry today i apologize. i can’t be myself try again tomorrow, bring me some help and the day after that. don’t fade into black amy said it best, when she said she’s treading a…

soul, baby. soul (i wrote this almost prophetically, before a falling out that I wanted to prevent from happening)

Posted on July 22, 2018

it’s almost complete. distance between falling apart from whispering secrets, sequence you act non chalant like, a purist in person. told you to stop kissing my heart questioned why, choking back tears. au revoir so insincere. brassiere draped over post traumatical scar and it’s worthless. holding hands under jupiter mars deafening stare. kaleidoscopic. where we grew afar or begun growing. to knowing it was doomed to begin with congruent in interests. confusing indifference with sultry disclosure. whispering secrets. a bottle of stol’ acting as if you didn’t already know marlboro rogue. leads in my chest. heart in my throat it’s okay because, a month is barely a whisper speaking sweet nothings with nobody to listen I’m sorry I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. evolving…

i know what i need 

Posted on October 12, 2017

I dont know what I want whether its surface dwelling alone at the swamp or an oak in a marsh, soul searching proverbial want we’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs you were my star spangled banner and I was taking a knee subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume every once in a blue, Dahlia Divin creeps in the room black lagoon creature. months of despondent malaise never under the same moon, but always got in your way every constant is change, every constant in chains the sheriff to my merits, conversation warranted pain follow the tunnel light or continue to walk amongst shade politics, topic delay, boxer on the ropes you taught me to love; but to love to…

fötter day

Posted on June 20, 2017

you can hear the… suburbia chime, zirconia vertebrae. pearly white spine glass thrown in stone houses, regular suburbia night whirring, rewind. chronicled childhood in olive drab paint monocle glass. wormwood and bottles of shawshank. dissolute solitude, wanderer who wallows in maze en route. delay for tomorrow. never promised today virgin diary. anne frank. marie curie disease tinture of rainbow, even if the distance is blurry to me he, who knows the way to zihuatenejo. furlough father. demand you to die when i say so 26 pesos what’s left in your wallet lint and mothball, merryland. experiment omelette. laundromat arcade quarter exchange 2 o clock shadow of death and follicle strain these boulders were supposed to be gone when i got here you shouldered me…

unfinished love gimmicky, smug grinning combustible bunch.

Posted on December 17, 2014

puncturing flows of buttery colors, exposed in post and pre nuptial showmanship. Function control amusing instrumental. effusive, ode to hold this angel to a centerpiece basil, with cloves, of energy that exposed a masterful synergy a weeded rustled drone, that tumblerode a the quietest depiction of the color blue on a petal succulent. moss grows on my archers boot and a straw of my grass clenched by my jawbones a flux of rusty trombones that exude music through it’s metal I’ve heard poetry spoken in crux, bolded by a bellowing, bolstering Underlined by a snake in the grass, it’s so mellow. Just hold me Boisterous. soaked in droves of this sorceress satin She spoke in a language obscurely molded in spanish her lips curved,…

Flown off course

Posted on December 16, 2014

“Vaudevillian. I’ve flown so off course that my radar doesn’t even beep it’s silent, instead it weeps for some recognizable aura of man to detect signature heat, thermal readings. nothing Become so abrupt in my comings that most of my time is spent twiddling my thumbs I’ve flown so off course, a meteorite that had its path altered in slight trajectory by space debris could be my new home, if it ever passed by me that’s how far off I am I’m flown so off course, that my wings don’t even flap in this new dimension of flying, we fly with our minds. I’ve flown so of course, global positioning isn’t a satellite thing no more —- it’s how i view our galaxy from…

guillotine lust

Posted on December 12, 2014

particle physics; radiation cusps at every speck and a grain that didn’t mean infecting the inflections as your hypothetical claim bite the bullet. swallowing the pistol. it shoots harboring a hollow feeling. sipping miller to boot coil gripped Corona, drowning out social persona were evolving into moths, wallowing towards the murky gray skies. yeah, the coffee! what’s next? marvelous pillow talk over a body of sex heel gone from the left side of my moccasin treads in particular, inarticulate guy with philosophers breath cotton linen robe; tonight i uncover the secrets you stashed underneath the cardinal chasm embedded deep in the cracks try to unfurl the english, through your lips on contours christmas carolers scarf, closed captioned lyrics encore wept for concourse, a few…

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