Ethereal Blood-smeare

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A strike of lightning
A defective hearing
Blinded by the sight of blood
As flashbacks of you flood

Stay quiet now
Im connected to the other realm
Do you feel safe
When no one’s at the helm?

Broken bulbs
Everything seems so dim
A shot at redemption
But my chances seem so slim

This connection is surreal
I can’t see but I can feel
I think I understand
The things that got out of hand

So take me away, please take me away
And with these blood drenched- hands
I face another day
You’re taking me away, to an ethereal place
Devoid of time and space

-The DementED

Hi readers! I’m back. Im sorry I’ve been really busy these past few days and I exoect to be even busier. So I’ll probably be posting just once a week from here on out. Thanks for the continued views 🙂

A Learned Behavior

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I was drowning in morphine
It was getting darker and dusk was taking me away
I can’t control what I think,
Or control what I feel
But I can control what I say

And I’ve said nothing at all.

Sometimes the lies holds more morals than the truth
But I don’t want to lie to you
I just don’t want to tell everything,
Only the one’s you can chew

There’s just some things I refuse to feel
But I don’t need a savior
You call me desensitized
I say it’s just a ‘learned behavior’

But in the end, I do feel, and I wish I felt nothing at all

Maybe because I’m afraid of the fall,
I fell several times but nothing prepares you for the comedown
So why should I expect anything less now,
Only to see a letdown?

But they say there’s beauty in the fall,

My vision gets knocked, and my chest bruised
Right now, the only vision that remains  is the vision of you
If anything is beautiful at all, it’s all your fault
So I blame you

But I was told to tread lightly
Not everything that glitters is gold,
But if at times it is, and gold doesn’t rust
Are you finally that someone whom I can trust?

There’s no safety in that gamble.
No guides or precautions, no preamble.

But maybe I dont need to be safe
Cause maybe I don’t run on blood but adrenaline
And I don’t want to be held back or do nothing,
So I have to go all-in.

But will you light me afire if I was gasoline?

The Joker’s Disease

 

So am I crazy?
Maybe so, I don’t know

I like to start last so I can grab you from behind
The psychopathic tendencies
of a well-endowed mind

You think I’m crazy?
Maybe so, I think so too
I made unnecessary quips like you wanted me to do

In sickness and in health
But all I know is the sickness
For richer or for poor,
But all I have are these visions

Do I look crazy?
Maybe so, can’t you see?
I’m the unnecessary joke like you wanted me to be.

Is this affection?
This unorthodox connection?
Well, It’s not of my intention
I don’t want to cause affliction

Am I crazy?
Maybe so, just like you
I made unnecessary tricks like you wanted me to do.

If you don’t want me anywhere around,
All you have to do is say,
If you don’t want to hear my sound,
Then tell me, I guess, it’s okay

Aren’t you scared of what you’re about to find?
And you told me that you mind
Have I found my Harley Quinn?
Or just someone I’m not akin

-The DementED

You may also want to check out my previous poem: Savior Syndrome

Connected

Savior Syndrome

You’re a time bomb
With a switched off ticker
You’re a loaded gun
But nobody wants to pull the trigger

You act like you’re a savior
But at best, you’re mediocre
An unnecessary Batman
To a non-existent Joker

You say you can save me
But you’re the one that needs saving
You talk like a saint
But you’re often misbehaving

Im not saying I dont need to be saved
Maybe I do,
But if anyone could, I know it’s not you
Before you try to save me,
Save yourself.

-The DementED

Sometimes, the simplest sounding poems may mean more than what your common sense dictates . 🙂

You might also want to check out: A Maiden’s Affliction

Photo credit: Kaleo Li of Pinterest

Genuine Smile

Silhouette nights, trying to bind your new face.
Riptide days, wasn’t too soon anyways
So here it goes, temporary bliss.
Ohh, but it’s only hit or miss.

Blemish in my mood,
Poison in my food,
Pebbles in my shoes
Running out of booze

Silhouette dreams, trying to give false hopes
Stormy days, steeping up the slopes,
So here it goes, temporary bliss
Will you come home to our abyss

Playful eyes,
Perfect for your disguise
Trembling voice
Exposing out your noise

Would it be boring?
Ignoring everything?
Oh it’s been a while,
Since I’ve felt that genuine smile

-The DementED

Supposed to be a song but too lazy to figure out the chords and add riffs. Hence, the irregularities of the poem. 🙂
 

You might also want to check out my poem about vices (smoking especially): Stories Behind Bad Habits

This poem is a response to the daily prompt: Playful

The Great Pretender

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You throw the punchlines,
But the joke’s always been on you
You say all the clichés
But you only speak and not do

You tell your friends to have hope
But you turn your back when there’s a slope
You tell a girl you love her,
But love for yourself you can’t even foster

You talk like you’re loud and proud,
But wear a mask when there’s a crowd
Be warned, for in this game of pretending,
You’ll only lose in the ending

-The DementED
Playful

You might also want to check out my previous poem: Smooth Seas

A Kid Again

 

 

Like a snap of a finger
My childhood gone the morning after
The dark clouds started to pour
And washed my heart’s grandeur

Before, I always play
Now, In my dark room I stay
Back then, we used to bond
Now, horrors of life to me has dawned

From the swaying of the swing
to answering every ring
From balancing in the seesaw
to condemning my every flaw

From running in the hills
to chugging down the pills
From enjoying the mountain breeze
to being down on my knees

From fearing the roar of thunder
to fearing one another
From playing under the sun
to hiding from everyone

From playing hide and seek
to having a busy week
From wanting all the candy
to having greed of money
If I could turn back time
I’d give away my every dime
It’s getting hard to take in
Just wanna be a kid again

-The Demented

 

This poem is a response to the daily prompt: 
Childhood

A Maiden’s Affliction

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Her high-pitched scream reaches my ears,
And every bone in my body shivers
She made a home inside my head
So I’ll write her every whisper

Her black lipstick matches the color of her heart
Like the effervescent still waters
Stitches in her skin are like art
And the scars were finishing touches

She eats makeup just to stay skinny
And puts laxatives in her face
She’ll pull the trigger anytime
But she’d rather just sit and wait

The tips of her nails, she bites and chews
But she barely touches her food
She has friends in her front
But none on her rear, just knives already glued

Wrapped around her neck the constricts of society,
and a weight left on her shoulder
For every dream she had, and every man who broke her heart
a bruise left as reminder

Tongues like daggers everywhere
and eyes like laser beams
She can’t go out without an armor
A figure to talk to and a box to dwell
is all she really clamors

-The DementED

Cheers to all the ladies going through the woes brought about by society. You’re beautiful. Please live on. 🙂

 

You might also wanna check out: The Voices Inside My Head – Why I Write

or related poems: A Date with the Dead, Hopeless, Not Romantic

The Voices Inside My Head – Why I Write

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Credits to fashioniq.com

“I write because…..”

Before I finish that, I have just reached 350 visitors today (Yeyyy!) and therefore, I’d like to take this moment to thank everyone who viewed this blog and to my regular readers.  Now that I got that out, allow me to  say why I’m writing this post.

Most of us who write have reasons as to why we do so. Everytime I visit a blog and read an article, I appreciate its beauty and then I wonder “Why does he/she write?”. So for my readers who are probably asking the same question, this is for you. (or for those who have never read my work, maybe this will convince you to read my pieces.)

To those who have already read a few of my works here, you have probably observed that though not all, most of what I write are dark in nature. I’ve written pieces about death/suicide (A Date with the Dead), failure (Nine Lives), unrequited love (Hopeless, Not Romantic), daily stress and woes (The Breakfast Drama), vices and bad habits (Stories Behind Bad Habits), disdain towards someone (Full Moon Blues), dangers of “being yourself” (Dangerous Business) and even isolation and introvertion (Isolation Nation), etc.

And so, let me continue the first sentence I was about to write.

I write because there are voices in my head. No, I’m not literally demented, as what my username might suggest. The voices I’m referring to are the ideas swirling inside my mind. These voices dictate every word that I type, every sentence, every stanza, every rhyme.

These voices didn’t just exist out of nowhere. They were born after every crucial life event. After I grieved, after I had my heartbreaks, after I had my failures, but also after every lesson I’ve learned. Nevertheless, as explained in my first post (Step Inside My Mind), the things I write aren’t entirely about me. Therefore, the voices in my head aren’t all just mine. Some of them are from my friends, some of them from my family members, some of them from people online just like you. Their life experiences inspire me to write. When I talk to people heart-to-heart, I realize how similar we are in some ways and that we are all going through our own battles.

So while some poets get ideas from staring at the sun, roaming around the city and smelling the sea breeze. (Don’t get me wrong, that’s really great too and I also do that sometimes, but mostly) I get ideas and inspiration from people.

So I write not because I want to be famous. Not because I want fortune or any material thing. I write because the voices in my head are telling me to reach out. I write because they tell me that there may be others who are experiencing hardships and battles similar to mine and to the people I’ve talked to. I write so that when they read my works, they won’t feel so alone. I believe that it’s probably my Purpose. I carried on, people I knew carried on, and therefore, they can too.

That’s probably the most cliche thing you’ve read all day, right? Haha. But that’s all true, and I don’t know any other way to say it. So, do expect more works to come from me. I will keep writing for as long as I can.

So, how about you? How are you doing with your life? Have you fought unimaginable battles too? Don’t be afraid. Reach out. Talk to someone. (You can always talk to me, just see my Contact page) Or better yet, write your own blog. You can paste your link in my comment section and I will find time to read your works. I promise.

Anything will do, just follow the voices inside of you.

So, what are the voices inside your head telling you?

 

 

Withered Past, Blurry Purpose

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Credits to derlevi

Ever since I was a kid
I’ve always really wondered
What is my purpose?
I often loudly blundered

I always thought that to love
Is what I need to do,
Find myself a partner
And love her oh so true

But then I met this girl
She only broke my world
It left me inconsolable
My open heart curled

And so I thought
Maybe to work is my goal
Strive hard daily
And wait for my payroll

But after the daily grind
Of trying to reach my goal
It left my body stressed
And exhausted up my soul

So I was left wondering
What am I to do?
When I’ve tried everything
And still left without clue

Perhaps figuring out my purpose
Is a purpose in itself
Reach out to the world
And not hide in a shelf

Giving service can be a start
Spread the goodness in people’s heart
Or have passion in everything
So even work won’t be boring

But then again,
I still have lots of woes
So many problems left to fix
And issues left to close

And dealing with my demons
Right now, is priority
So until then
My purpose remains blurry

-The DementED

This is in response to the Daily Prompt:

Purpose