Black Cab Confessions

Sad 20-something with a penchant for pretty words.

[howitzerliterarysociety-deactiv]

It’s very important you take your cues from yourself. It is such a wild world full of chaos and chance and if you can see that this is the best part of it, that it’s open ended and unscripted, that your fate is your whim, then the vibe hits you and life is the vibe. Often you have to become what you need, and very often the world will punch you in the mouth. You spit out whatever blood there is, you let your eyes give off their wild crazy, and you make yourself into a bolt of lightning. I think if life has fucked with you, you get what I mean.

[sheholdsyoucaptivated]

I love the intimacy of complete privacy

[nakedverite-deactivated20200209]

Half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. Reals gods require blood.

Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God (via negromodelo)

[blackcabconfessions]

I once pulled the nail out of my heart and called it tender Blood pooled around my chest as I lay trying not to die You spoke to me then, and only then, as I stared at your photo You said, “tenderness is not a prerequisite for love.”

I once pulled soul out of my skull and called it sainthood

[blackcabconfessions]

Schizophrenic Eyes

This naked transcendence of beauty You shine in the moonlight as if it burns you As I refuse to believe that you’re just a mirage An hallucination, delivered to me by endless, listless desire.

Prince on the radio sang to me with his eyes. The mark on my hand was the sign of evil. I could not think straight for the love of me. I refused to speak until you heard me.

Once I melted into a street car and Became the road, each million tires screaming Across my back as I reveled in the pain As I had never felt so alive, so asphalt pure.

Until you careened haphazardly into my life like a meteor Cast anxiously (hopefully) through the empty cosmos You didn’t land, however, all you had ever wanted was To explode across the sky like the sun in her last days

And I, a lover of the moon from the start, awed at you The light you made, cascading across the sky, Undid the sadness in my heart, in my eyes, on my hand And the world was bright again.

But your naked transcendence of this beauty, The stars themselves did not outshine you, And yet you darkened, you eroded into the bed and I clawed at your image in vain hope to make you real.

I once heard a song on the radio, the guitarist cried for me And I once melted into a park bench to become a bird I flew across the sky you once graced so luminously And the world was bright again, if just for a while.

[blackcabconfessions]

This Will be my Epic of Discontent

This will be my epic of discontent My war of attrition, my Roman conquest, A siege that lays waste to what controls me. An ambush to surpass the atom bomb. Once the arms arrive, Arrayed and ordered; Once the munitions are at my door, Braided and chorded I will make a stand, in front of all, for all. For if they will stand, they will fight And they will die, by my hand, Because of what they are.

Which side you’re on will not save you. This is a war of extermination This is a war of ideologies A fight between ideas paid for in blood My comrades and I will spare no thing Goods and services will not survive We will fight the money in which we are paid. We will wound the bread of which we eat.

Each battle wages in our wallets Each trench is dug into our magnetic-strip- Credit-card-debt identities Each dollar a bullet, each coin a bomb (Planted at the point of exchange, Blown away in ticker-tape) Embedded in each transaction is The declaration of war, Each casualty a number on the stock board

For if one man dies it is a tragedy, If a million men die it is but a number.

[blackcabconfessions]

Warmth

I am raptured by the warmth of our bodies Comforted by the idea of Otherness, And yet I’ve never been so afraid I fear the out-of-synch beating of our hearts I fear sleeping alone again.

Your tiny frame pressed against my own small heart You breathe easy, for the first time in a long while And yet your heart beats faster than ever As mine connects with your spine, its beat drumming Drumming into your nerves and we feel alive.

You’re afraid that I won’t love you in the morning Though that couldn’t be further from the truth I will awake with you beside me and rejoice Rejoice that you could calm yourself around me, And you could sleep at all despite the storm In your head, in my head.

Tonight the rum falls on empty stomachs, Tonight we dance, basking in the moonlight Though we never stray farther than the lawn It being neither yours nor mine, But we sing to the stars as if we ruled this planet.

With the sun gone, we can finally breathe Steady rhythms of desire and terror (We fear being alone; we fear the cold) Steady heat from under the covers, We dream of each other, we dream of love.

The ice melts around me and I realize That there are suns in your eyes The moths that are my own drift inward to burn away Comforted by your crimson gaze, and yet you burn You burn for the light in my soul You melt at the mention of eternity.

The fires in our chests keep us up tonight We toss and turn in steady rhythm Clutching each other to our chests We want for nothing more than the fire in our hearts Fires that burn away the fear, that burn away the cold.

[magictransistor]

I start in the middle of a sentence and move both directions at once.

John Coltrane (via magictransistor)

[writers-hq]

[poetics-tracy]

Here, we turn our faces toward the sun. What is gone? What is gone when darkness comes? Trust wanes like the moon, slivering itself hollow. I rely on this movement, gyration of the stars: change operates in space, as on earth. We will all burn into darkness. Echoes are homeless in the void.

Eclipse (via eclectictracy)

[watchoutforintellect]

The slime of all my yesterdays rots in the hollow of my skull

Sylvia Plath - From April 18 (via watchoutforintellect)

[stoicremains-deactivated2017102]

And I have still other smothered memories, now unfolding themselves into limbless monsters of pain.

Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita  (via aegeane)

[poetbitesback]

the truth of the matter is, I don’t know how to give even a piece of myself to someone I just got myself back and I am not willing to let go, who knows what you would do with me?

untitled || O.L. (via poetbitesback)

[blackcabconfessions]

I subsist in controlled excess.

R.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

And there is, for me, no difference between writing a good poem and moving into sunlight against the body of a woman I love.

Audre Lorde, from “Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power,” (via violentwavesofemotion)

[strangecolorenthusiast]

Is it strange to miss her though we haven’t met? The joys and the sorrows of the internet.

Me (via strangecolorenthusiast)

[blackcabconfessions]

My Declaration Of War To Depression

And this, my malicious Disorder-- My reptilian brain shrouded in comfortable Scars like bloodstained bedsheets-- This is true freedom.

The truth about freedom is that it is, Without doubt, terrifying. Anything is possible, which means, to you, Any bad thing is possible, but not tonight.

Freedom means absolutely anything can happen The emotion of it doesn’t matter, so long as it’s there; The joys and agonies of Now are fleeting, as are you And I will mourn your demise like the destruction of smallpox.

You are a sick bastardization of my sorrow You take my failures and sharpen their edges; You swarm my mind like malignant wasps, incessantly Whispering ‘you could die right now’; all night, all day.

Old ways of thinking, old pain and regret Wither away under the honest sunlight-- And I am the honest sunlight, make no mistake-- I am your antithesis.  I am your terror.

I am your attrition, the siege of truth that never ceases, I batter the walls of my own skull in blind rage until You whisper between my ears no more, You will fall to your knees and beg for your life.

I am the razor at your throat (at our throat)-- Sharpened on our concave, hollowed skull-- You will not conquer me.  You will die a quick death I owe you that much mercy, (you are me, after all).

I know that this is not a one battle war. We will fight all my life, perhaps well into the ether that is death Even if it consumes us entirely, like a cleansing fire, You will die by my hand and I will scream with glee.