i can't hear my thoughts from my thinkingthe voices babbling in my bone jar make it challengingand for some ungodly reason they insist calling me Sir Even though i clearly identify as afucking idiotand I am far from royalThey should know it's CAPTAINSomeone's gonna walk the plankI am definitely not inviting them to my tea party OR my cult joiningI shall have a magnificent beheading and they are not invited!I am steering my drowning bathtubto much drier watersSo longgoodbye and thanksfor all the pisces.©madnessextraordinaire
suddenly it pours in the showeri don't have time for a towel, i run out in the coldmy wet body is vibratingfire ants under my skinfingers too slippery to hold up a phoneWhere's that goddamned penand the paper?!i'll use blood and skin if i have toi run back to the showerdripping of coldnessI waste all my hot waterWhen i get back outi dry my bleached hair as i read the lines about the dead asphalt sky and how hard it is to see the storm from the cloudsnothing so urgenti should've reached for a knife when i couldn't find a penbut i put these lines out for you to seeso you don't have to wonderwhy the girl in the apartment number 16stumbles in and out of the showernaked and always in a hurryit's just her everyday madness, nevermind it.©madnessextraordinaire
Beyond the icy desertsbeheaded Medusa paced in circlesleaving behind tracesfor the hungry hounds to follow.As Gods kill, they shall diebut for her luckher blood was frozenand only chalk was drippingfrom the heart she was squeezing in her palm.The snowy lands gave no shelterwhen the hounds found her there was not much to be founda pillar of chalknext to a bitter heartmissing one bite.
Gentleness was never my forteI used a dull axe to cut my own tree downand I used the same blade when I needed to cut open the cage in my chest to break free the morbid parts of my dissolving heartafter your illness entered my veinsand now I am using that same, old, unsharpened, dull toolas I cut your dead branchesfor firewood, to last through the winterYou don't have to tell meI know very well how it feels.
This much is trueIndeedno good deed goes unpunishedthis is the eternal and ultimate truthHow could it not? Only a child would believe otherwise and we are all God's children, aren't we?Good old Eve and the bad boy Adamwandering dazed and confusedshivering in the cold desertdeserted by everything but darknesswith a rotten apple and a rib cage for a caneWe are taught to turn the other cheekbut these kind of stories, they deserve no joyful endingsThe ending is a rag, drowned in gasoline and burned dust to dustashes to ashesGoneI do my deeds, indeedbut as you can seemy other cheekis already bruisedand I only turn my backto walk the other wayand that way would beaway.©madnessextraordinaire
the dust of years of abusesnows down on the first days of this old Januarylight to the touch, almost impossible to seebut it is therea scar there, a mark herea rusted knife i thought was gonefound inside my back bonethe doctors could find no curefor the constant ache and the sleepless nightsand a mountain of pills that could've killed a horsewouldn't knock me off from my feet(or from this world, even when i tried, and boy, did i try)but there it was, that broken bladebroken and shattered but mostly intactmelted like hot silver inside my coreGentle was never the wayi ripped it out and heard my back crumbleand placed inside a sterling prideto steady my shivering spine again.©madnessextraordinaire
we are stardustshit and pisswe are magical mountain goatsdefying gravitybeing alive is the ninth circle of hellDante had some ideaHell is hanging paintings and mirrors on the brink of madnessHell is drowning in insomnia behind the whites of your eyeshell is to be made out of star matterspecks of universe and diamond ashand still not being able to escape the prison of yourbed in the morning.©madnessextraordinaire
hungover at your gravei would lie next to you but the ground is too damn coldon a hot summer day i imagine your dark stone would feel cool and soothing but now it's below zeroand my fingers froze even before i got to the end of this poem.
For a deity, born last night &just beginning to bloomfor a messiah, slowly emergingAlreadyI've heard all my names whispered in the dark far too oftenand far many a timeunder unholy meanings.I've seen all the arrogant victoriesdeclared in my willAnd oh, the losses,your misfortunesI've seen themhung with the thievesburied in secrecy after nightfallwith no honor.sometimes not buried at all.bitter ashes, still glowing with warmth, vanishing in thin air.Lips muted in prayerlike maybe there was no god,no messiahafter all.©madnessextraordinaire
What is a pack wolves against an army of sheep?I know,you don't have to remind me Never tell me the, uh...A constant cramp under my abdomenNot sure if it's the alien or the predator and I am even more unsureif I let Hyde walk the daylight instead of mr. JWhoops.When you are tired enough they really look the same.Behind my back they whisper about cutting my ink with waterWhat an insult!they don't know I have super powers likehearing voices without faces.What is love without quarrels?when two sheep smile to each otherand promise to love in sickness and in wealthhealthwhateverSmiling so hard it becomes a grimacethose big, bad, wolfie masks onbiting their lips, snarling and spitting blood just to make it a bit more believableSure, that's what love is all aboutandI can barely even hear the bleating under your growls.©madnessextraordinaire