cristian's wordpad & lingering thoughts

dose of Cristianism & other absurdities.

Posts tagged “poems”

nice’s guys finish last

Posted on December 22, 2018

I’m stronger than you. Or, I thought I was. Maybe I am. Don’t fucking touch me. Make up your mind. Tell me you love me. Fuck me like you mean it. Mean it when you fuck me, love me when you tell me, you love me. Tell me a secret. Show me your ghosts. I’ll show you my demons. Baby, you should go. Maybe we only got along cause our monsters played nice. How to atone? I’m so over, being alone. But, I rather be alone, than prone to abandonment and holding, on to consolement that’ll never be known. Fuck what your sentiments wrote – they lied to me and let it be shown. A lantern is only a guide if the lights lit,…

Categories: personal

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when hercules jumped into river styx

Posted on November 19, 2018

KILL OR BE BROKEN. KILL OR BE ME killed in combat over and over killing disease killed in disguise killed when i sleep killed in my dreams, killed cause I’m weak attracting spiritually broken, they see healer in me chill in my bones. killing me slowly, kiss me. it’s frozen feeling the breeze. or is that you behind, huffing on these maroon eye, jeweled demon, ruby iris. drool dripping do or die wolve wedding. sheep ring bearers, unsheared sheep pastor wool clothing. the warmth of our corrivalry helps me fall asleep faster hyper empath, i hear your heartbeat miles away hear it, before i fall asleep. hear it when I’m on a date why does it all of a sudden, beat faster? is it…

Categories: personal, PROSE

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what the fuck do i do

Posted on October 24, 2018

the moon the moon the moon the sun the sun the moon press mute succumb doomed doomed doomed I’m doomed. we’re done who who who are you who are us? collusion contusions. you’re a cup of hot chocolate on the fiercest winter morning feel the blisters forming whistle through the windows pixelating percentage whistling. cold air whistling dixie through the windows it’s snowing. frost on the glass particle splat icicles look like christmas ornaments your silence makes me question myself i was too human too human. too human too godamn human. too. human. (everywhere i put a period, is a moment in the story where i teared up and cried) . .. . i fucking, maybe i should’ve danced. that one time that one…

Categories: personal

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fire breather

Posted on October 19, 2018

I’m a fucking fire breather. Breathing fire. Eating dragons, for breakfast who wants some? None of you do I’ve held back for quite some time exerting no strength Ball of fire. Giving the sun spots ink blots and think thoughts disregard your discourse munching on mantras, making mistakes barely i learn from them wake up from nightmares hardly impressed more creative next time, brain laughable sequence, you could never understand i ain’t lazy just smart you work hard i work smarter catch a sneeze in the air yelling from the sidelines telling mayweather his footwork is scarce looking at my mile times like godamn how old is too old to compete in the olympics? facebook shows me gold medal ads the next day your…

Categories: personal

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mad scientist

Posted on October 15, 2018

mix gunpowder and moments. of silence gather components you’d author with smiles combustible crossover. lost in your eyeballs. gifting a locket, heart shaped alloy wishing upon a asteroid comet because… it’ll turn to debris before it reaches to me countdown from three, wishing your frown obsolete douse gasoline, that sets blaze to decree miscellaneous. mundane. missiletoe mainframe. hypnotize what lingers in me complex emotions compartmentalizing alone left alone in your apartment high strung and high-rise. affectionate tease was used to darkness from sun rise- till sun shivers stand in front of me, shut eyes with your fingers pressed mute with your kisses tell the moon to revisit. i’d mouth i loved you in english what could’ve been at a later date neck, shoulder, premeditation…

Categories: personal

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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…

Categories: personal

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naivety

Posted on September 26, 2018

i guess this is a letter to young me, and as old me having dominion over young me, and the fortune of being older and equipped with technology and the dream of possibly time traveling by watching too much sci-fi, or something- and possibly giving you this letter. dear little boy, this is older you. and if you don’t believe me, read this letter and I’m sorry for telling people you thought you could handle the worlds pain, silly goober. but here it is: (sorry if you don’t understand a word or two, but by now you’re probably reading dictionaries, soooo not so sorry) here i (we) am (are) again. i was naive when i was a boy. i (we) still am (are)! but……

Categories: letter, personal

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prius

Posted on September 18, 2018

i recognize this abandonment pattern. neglect and avoid pushed to the side, suffocate & deprive overwrought. rush to get over the noise stiff arm tactical markup. 1 and death on the goal practically harmless. red zone ballad demarcation change is in constance, conscientious tailored departure mademoiselle, i’ve heard you tell me this often understandable. hatchet & nail in the coffin they could hear us screaming when we’re barely talking ripple effect. tsunami wave/ dimples and neck telling me to hush because someone just called delicate. soft. let this be a lesson resolved inconclusive as it is abusive and sordid usual motive. behaviorist sadist assortment white dress. biting my lip til the flavor is gone entanglement. arthritic, you say. wait till you call some call…

Categories: personal

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you knew

Posted on September 18, 2018

it’s bittersweet. grapefruit sauvignon. rose stained cherry motif nightmare on wax on repeat. please beware of the beast swiping left. recurring sentiment, pattern repeat didn’t fall in love with your pictures. fell in love indiscreetly deciphering flaws, explicating subtle jungian traits brains defensive mechanism. delegating safety restraints decoding reflexive emotive. premeditative distaste automatic, chemical composition innate features built to delay or forego any possible symptom of a broken heart, hemoglobin battle wound syndrome saline suture. calculating how different you are 4am trip to neverland, not a trip to the bar? borderline blasphemy. there’s times you cry over art shit you gotta do alone, shit others could never remark distinguish aquatic serene, underwater nautical scene scraping off necrotic flesh your hands singed off my being…

Categories: personal

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disassociation

Posted on September 16, 2018

you passionately spoke, breathing in between ; about how we’d be able to practically look at each other without speaking and know what we mean. hold my hands. slight facial gesture, radiant beam. on the cusp of extraordinary meaning, emboldened by components we both constructed with our definition of love. uphold the only person i wouldn’t give up. ultralight fixture hooked by the seams. lean over and tell me to be sweet to you. a declaration without question i consented too. something from dreams. dreams realized by coincidence. you see, i don’t believe in happenstance, or the desultory theory. i don’t believe in randomness, or fortuitous grandeur. i don’t believe we told each other we loved each other in our most comfortable ways, because…

Categories: personal

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houston

Posted on September 7, 2018

i didn’t want this to happen. didn’t want to get launched into saturn. unmanned vessel. haunted mansion. it’s so hard to imagine myself even a month ago. don’t even remember how to breathe without thinking of you. i breathed differently before. connect the dots in the sky. constellation prize. consolation, sky. but now I’m an astronaut (not by choice) i have all the equipment. but i breathe different. houston asks if I’m okay. i tell them, i don’t remember my training. “but you’re alone up there. and radio signals are giving out soon” why does every moment replay in my head, but more vividly than when it actually happened. why does my brain think it’s funny to repaint reds better than when i saw…

Categories: personal

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