“I’ll never be whole again. The comfort of things that were once lovely now seem like smoke and mirrors. They’re not real. I spend my life chasing something that I believe will make me happy, a better person. But, then what? I thought I was looking forward to this. But now, all that’s left is this depression. Not even the kind of depression that people sing about, with all cool colours and hard eyes and a love that could never be. It is the kind of depression that is so mundane. The depression of being trapped inside of yourself, the kind of depression that is scheduled- that there is no escape. It’s the same thing everyday. Wake up, go through the motions, then sleep.”

 

The man took a deep breath. His eyes shone like headlights in the darkness.

 

“I’m done.”

 

He didn’t kill himself. He didn’t put a knife to his throat or a gun to his head. He didn’t tell the person he loved that he loved them.

He just went through the motions.

He gave up.

Sometimes, though that’s all that you can do.

And that’s all he did.

Jaded

I’m going do do something stupid next Friday. Very, very stupid.

Right now, I’m fairly happy with my life. Nice boyfriend, good grades, nice friends, end of school year fast approaching. But, then, this is me, and being me I have to fuck it up. Because, oh yeah, I’m cool like that.

 

The thing is, I’m still head over heels for my ex girlfriend (Who I broke up with due to a sexuality crisis. I know.) And after the break up we remained friends. She got a new boyfriend, I wallowed in self pity, got a girlfriend, broke up with girlfriend, got a boyfriend, regretted boyfriend, invited ex to get shit-faced in my room. Yep, that’s it.

So, I’m going to get drunk and confess my undying love to her and it’ll get awkward and I’ll hate it and I’ll blame it on the booze, afterward. I know, I’m totally brave and confident. Totally awesome. Totally not pathetic.

 

There are going to be repercussions. I look forward to them.

[S]ometh[i][n][g]

SING (Something)

 

Eyes that shimmer like disco balls,

Reflecting  light on her  dress,
you shimmer together, but she falls,
You blame it on her tragic success,
You give her something,
a grin, a laugh,
she slips on her purse string,
The lights fade and you’re left alone,
Just dance baby, sing.

Cross out the eyes,
Like they weren’t there,
Try out her skin for size,
Just lay down on a bed with no sheets,
Your dance was an empty goodbye,

Desolate fields lay down in your wake,
And church bells ring out a song,
People flock to watch you break,
The melodies sound so wrong

But you dance like you mean it,
The stage  will shine,
No one wants to sit,
It’s an amazing time.

You forget the world and get lost in thought,
Something is singing a song,
And for this dance I know you fought,
It’s a place you don’t belong,

So finally you’re where you’re best,
singing something of a song,
And though you’re blessed,
You were here all along.

Something is where you are tonight,
Something is where you’ll stay,
Something isn’t a bar fight,
Something isn’t a fray

Something is where you’re going,
Something is where you belong,
Something is what you’re showing,
Something is just a song.

Remember me (A ballad to destruction)

If lies are sold cheaply on the street,
like sex or drugs or memories,
then we’ll stand up on our own two feet,

and we’ll buy a pound and fall asleep,
and I’ll remember if you love me,
and we’ll dissolve, our bodies, ashes into flames,
Unlock the key,
remember me.

we’ll fall asleep to crashing bombs,
and wake up entwined in songs,
and forget the world and ride off to the sun,
with anyone.
are you anyone?
I wish you were someone.
am I anyone?
No.

Find a world and paint it black,
deface your skin; heart attack,
days bleed into months, no going back,

and i’ll see your face on the bathroom wall,
and i’ll cry until no tears will fall,
and we’ll erase our fears, our scars, stained to skin.
do you remember him?
like you’d remember me,
you don’t remember me.
a memory.
remember me.

how do you sleep?
how do your speak?
we both know it’s lying.
How do you talk
do the walk?
we both know that you’re dying,

but no one even stares,
because no one really cares.

fall asleep to dropping bombs,
wake up, find a song,
bleed out late to the afternoon,

shut your eyes,
my demise,
close your lips,
cock your hips,
this is the end
of time
i’ll make a note;
a sign
of a memory.
remember me.

Transmissions

The Sun

the skylight plains blind me,

and i am knocked back to the floor,

and this motion should startle me,

as i had left earth before,

but as i am grounded i take a deep breath,

a second to think, to forget,

of all the horrors i’ll carry to death,

of all the wounds i’ve set,

the road is winding and the limbs are framed,

in a glass that are not just paned,

from a stature that is neither nice,

than horrid, fragile, glare from ice

your eyes are broken mirrors

your heart a beat too fast,

your legs are moving beneath you,

your arms are in a cast,

your head feels broken,

your feet feel stung and sore,

the waves are smashing around us,

our bodies crash to the floor,

our souls hand in hand,

our path intertwined,

our eyes meet and we embrace,

for the very first time,

i’ll catch you from the jump,

a second too early or late,

time will stutter around us,

and to die is that your fate?

red ribbons will bleed from your body,

lacing around your throat,

squeezing, tightening, killing,

you wear crimson like a coat.

and i’ll glance up from reading,

as your body topples down,

and i’ll chance a grin,

and you’ll muster a frown,

and our bodies lay together,

two hearts in one,

we’ll stay there forever,

just waiting for the sun.

Punk Rock

Maybe I love you,

That’s why I want to stay,

Your eyes mirrors of mine,

A tragic cliche,

Smother me, for I don’t love you,

And I know I never will,

So tear me down,

Take my crown;

it was never mine.

I was never fit to rule,

a castle so divine,

and if you stay,

I’ll have to say,

that you are all but dead,

drowning in a pool so deep,

The waves smash over your head,

If you ignore the signals and signs,

I guess I’ll have to say,

That I don’t and never will,

Love you day and day.

Wash your eyes,

It’s fine with me,

All I see are skies,

Shining blue,

Mocking us,

Reminding us of time,

Do you remember the days when,

Nothing more was mine?

drench your happiness,

and swim out to sea,

Swim out until your drown,

Sink, till you spot me,

Both plummeting down,

You’re love and loss,

departed; end is brutally near,

Make no sound,

All that’s left is fear,

By invisible ropes you’re bound,

And if you stay,

I’ll know, that you were far too good for me,

And if I say,

Goodbye; slam the door and all,

I can only prey you’ll catch me,

right before I fall.

But know that I am leaving,

and never coming back,

As you are like a dead flower,

Your love crippled and black,

So when I say,

Goodbye,

Know that I can’t mean it,

For we are just all flowers,

With petals that can’t commit,

For we are just all liars,

With lies so illicit,

I am saying goodbye now,

But I cannot just go,

Walk away from a life,

That was never mine so,

As I finish writing,

As I glance at the clock,

Don’t forgive me baby,

This life is so punk-rock.

Worded.

Hello.

 

My name is Imogen. Imogenics. I write. I’m not saying what I write is good, but it’s different. Everything’s different. This is a blog for my poetry and perhaps for my writing. I’m inside out, all wrong, but a perfect human being at the same time. I’m a sadist in denial, a schizophrenic by definition. I am a person and a liar. A traitor and a thief. I’m bi sexual, but that status means nothing to me. I throw away my relationships. I miss her. I miss her. I miss her. I broke her. She loves him. He fixed her. I deserve it.

Somebody else who I left because. Because. Because? Because you were different? Because I was terrified? Because you were a girl on the outside? On the outside. I miss you in so many abstract ways, and in the same way I’m glad I left. People do not define me. I define me. Me. It means nothing. You define me.

 

What am I?

Who am I?

 

Goodbye.

Behind The Mask

Life is one big beautiful metaphor.

That we are able to exist.

The masks that people steal.

The broken bones; shattered fists.

The emotion, deep. Pouring from your veins.

The cuts, too harsh. Will never bleed again.

Society’s ugly face. Government social stain.

Man gone hunting. Rabbit will never wake again.

Mirrors of broken water. Banks of slaughtered flesh .

Eyes that read like novels, behind butchered breaths.

Tangled bodies smile, Unaware of their deaths.

Scars that taint the silk fabric, of your fabled corpse.

Scars that dig into, your wounded, bloody jaws.

Scars; like a phantom pain. Cannot move a limb.

Scars that decorate your body, reminding you of him.

Scars, dreamt into reality. Here your horrors bask

Scars tell foreign tales.

Hidden behind your mask.