The Chancellor

I exist in an ambiguous space and time
Where the city is turning mad
With evildoings and violence taking its toll
Often I wish I was far away
In the sounds of silence
Nothing but peace at the border of the town
Maybe in the woods, perhaps the hills
Where I don't feel that I should change my name
My address and identity in the hope of finding freedom
Where I don't have to live in the shadow of fear
A certain power that will always hunt me down

I am consumed by my pursuit to survive where I am
My desire is to come out of the clutches of somewhat a tormenting other half
Often they say that sometimes it takes the darkest hour of our life
The fear of death, to regain our consciousness back into life
I am not just one person
I am that two lives
The completely symbiotic nature of a couple
Constantly in our darkest hour
Going against each other
Like a relationship that has already fallen apart
That is moving fast towards its end

"But do not lose hope", they say
As I wander on empty streets every passing night
As I lose myself to my relentless angst towards somewhat an unyielding life
"Your life is an anthology. Your chapter is not done yet."
I answered them, "but it is not and never was mine to write.
I am never my own person.
I am a puppet.
My life began with an incessant harassment by that I should never mention.
I was pushed to a corner, to take the extreme step.
I never meant to end a life.
I never wanted to take a life.
All I wanted was freedom.

And come 1945."

-PRK-

Flake Off, Quagmire

Needles pierced through my skin 

Attached to the machine

Entering the layers perhaps 1/16" of an inch

At approximately 10-15 needle drops per second

Fast enough to avoid puncturing my skin 

And causing bleeding 

And yet slow enough to avoid tearing it

It bled and wept a little

But it was a uniquely personal experience

They often ask if it's sore; if the pain is unspeakable 

That somehow got me thinking once - no, a few times

That if I'd cut myself, will I bleed black?

Like the ink used for my tattoos

But I don't blame them for asking such a question 

Fooled by horror stories, they're bound to think that it's excruciating 

Often I'd like to tell them that my body can take almost anything 

A cut, a burn, 10 tattoos, and counting 

My body can withstand different amounts of pain

No need for drugs that can thin the blood

No need for skin-numbing creams

Because it is in the mind that I control the sensation 

It is my mental strength that I can always hinge upon

But no matter how strong my mind is

Sometimes my heart fails 

Every time it got fooled, played and hurt

Only time can tell how long I'd have to heal the pain

Unlike the healing process of my tattoos  

It was never quite manageable

An open wound still

I don't know how a healed heart feels like

But... Flake off, Quagmire

-PRK-

Scar Tissue

She was born pure and simple
Brought into the world so innocent, so delicate
She looked around, desiring knowledge
Yet fascinated only to the unthinkable

And down the pike, she became repulsive
Does not recognise happiness
Though to most, she seems content, calm, at ease

Yet she felt only soreness
The deeper she gazed into her own eyes,
She somehow sees only resentment

She can be high-strung
But often overshadowed by melancholia - her own gloom, the blue devils
Until she reached her depths

Tight-lipped, tongue-tied, close-mouthed, not even murmurs
The girl with the frown would only shrug
And later cut deep into her own skin

And the art on her body were not just scars
The masterpiece placed close to her wrists indicates the end of her war
"Forever fighting a battle," she said. "And the demons have won."

The razor was her paintbrush
Her body was the canvas
But her masterpieces were never on display
Only when she died today

-PRK-

Still In Agony

See, I've never meant to ever violate your words
But sometimes I go through my existence, harder than you thought
Got nobody to lean on, to count on to keep me bold
And there are moments in my life I almost vacate my hope
And I can never ever brain how you suck it through these years
How you obviously try to hold on, and the moments you've lived soaked in your tears
Never could I understand why you're still standing with those smears
Though at times you'd sounded like you're buckled up to switch your gears
But here's a question - have you ever thought of how I wish it has an end
How I wish that someday somehow, your happiness isn't condemned
That you're up for any challenges for yourself, don't need to bend
That maybe you'd be happier with your ideas, thoughts and no dent
Because it's draining me, side-splitting me as I try to live my life
Haunting me every moment as I try to really strive
A true standing pillar for the home, still trying to survive
And there are times I hated you for taking away my other life
I had to grow up, had to live up to some expectations and such
Had to crash and walk away from a different set of clutch
Guess you never really thought that it's been so hard on me
How I wish I didn't have to be part of my current agony
For it's making me despising too many things that seemed beautiful
And I've been living in monochrome, nothing was ever colourful
See I'm broken bad, bleeding inside, perhaps you'd even see my clot
If only you'd take your time to sit and read my stormy plot

-PRK-

Respect Gone Fishing

I never saw that you did caring
Nor have I ever seen that you did raising
For all I knew was you did cheating
You brought her home whilst I was growing

I was around ten when you deceived me
You smeared my respect for you; it hurt me
For all you ever was was a hero to me
Until you couldn't keep yourself together for me

I never grew to love you more than that
Nor have I ever wished to gain your respect
For all I knew was that you are no more than that
Just another man in the family I can't respect

I was in my teen then when I wasn't consoled
When I wasn't told that it's not the end of the world
When I hated all the opposite of me and the likes of you
When all I felt was anger and rage with no curfew

My heart rebelled silently
For when I needed you, you weren't there entirely
The rage I had without a doubt was deadly
Couldn't figure out what stole your sanity

Today I fall, pushed by my magnitude
Getting tired of my strong attitude
Refused to believe in that altitude
Hence I keep to my own beatitude

Tyke Folie

And so she sat on that chair
Confused and very inquisitive in her head
In that sullen space she felt stone-cold
Blindfolded; she couldn't see
The chair she sat on was colourful
The space she thought sullen
Was as bright with sunlight blazing through
Then she died knowing only darkness
And veneration for she wasn't allowed some light
Suchlike the idea of proper behaviorism
We are habituate to

-PRK-