-
Eat shit, Fight the shin tzu dog treat Got no time for your bullshit Fucken leechy ass tit Eat dirt and revive Plant the seeds for the future divide Lesson lost in time Big booty hoes a natural divine Spit rust when you speak, ’cause your truth’s always antique. You old as twit Tell me in my eyes how you spit Cracked words crumble like old concrete, your truth breaks faster than your heartbeat. frothy, lofty mental retreat Fucken lies, always deceit…
-
Aquí puro vato verga, espíritus que no se quiebran. Acércate pa’ enseñarte el diablo, No el de golpes, sino el que cargo. Vergazos del destino, Latigazos del día, Chelas que aflojan la lengua y la poesía. Saca el fierro del alma, Ese que nunca afilamos, Una furia de palabras pa’ ver si nos desmadramos. Que la cosa anda regida, La vida siempre tirando pruebas. Puro pinche sueño fugaz, que se rompe sin que te atrevas. ¿No que muy vergas con tu canto?…
-
Resonate the bells of war, stand up and fight. Don’t let your dreams wander too far, for the wicked come to defile the altar. The echo still moves, and the silence never won. The ghost still rises, for the past that was never done. Rise with the quiet flame, the one that burns without smoke. Hold the line of your own truth, for shadows bend when you don’t. Let old wounds speak softly— not to reopen, but to remind. Let the ghost…
-
Ayer murió, ayer fugó. Solo queda lo anterior. Memorias surdas, recuerdos justos, lo que el presente olvidó. ¿Habrá lluvia hoy? ¿O saldrá el sol? Pienso que ella siempre amó un simple NO. El fantasma ya se fue. Ni se despidió. Solo dijo que no le gustó el pretender… Y yo nomás quedé ahí, con el eco de lo que no fue, con el hueco donde antes hablaba, con el silencio que ahora manda.
-
I wasted seven fucken days laid out on the couch like a sack of dirty, rotten potatoes, as if life had suddenly lost all meaning. How did it start? Hell if I know. One day I was living my best life. The next, I had a cough that started lingering around like an unwanted relative. On top of that, I decided to have some gay ass Topo Chico seltzers. I know they’re not manly. I know they’re weak compared to straight liquor.…
-
Daily Writing Prompt Stop Auditioning for Other People’s Problems
-
Como decirte que te amo,si todo ya ha pasado.Al verte con el otro,quiero gritar y olvidar el pasado.¡Qué amor tan olvidado! ¿Quién seré si no fuera yo?Al mirar la luna, me pregunto yo:morir, vivir o discutir.Yo prefiero el metal y sangrar hasta morir. Yo, al nacer, me despedí.Y no te halagues, no era por ti.Tal vez un día sabré qué es vivir,pero hoy hay guerra, hay que sufri
-
I am protective of my tiny heart.After all, my ego was shot.Left are the scars,memories of lovers left afar. I ponder sometimeswhat could have been.I always know my dreams;They never deliver the win. But I only have one goal,and it’s knowing myself more.Maybe I will never achieve it.Maybe one day I will succeed. Parted ways with time,Parted myself in two, for the last time. Win, win, win.Maybe you someday become like a delfin. So on my day off I was chilling and…
-
It finally clicked why my ex still lives rent free in my head even though she broke the sink. She isn’t the only tenant. The place is packed. Literature occupies half the rooms. Philosophy keeps strange hours. The Iliad and The Odyssey won’t stop arguing in the hallway while Pablo Neruda and Octavio Paz watch. Yvain has apparently been living there for years with a lion and neither has paid a dime in rent. Somewhere down the hall, Where the Red Fern…
-
Everyone says my ex lives rent free in my head. And yeah, not gonna lie, after 4 years, going on 5, it still reigns true. But the real problem is she broke the bathroom sink. The apartment in my head used to be in decent shape. Nice paint, nice fixtures, almost immaculate up until recently. Then one day the tenant moved in, rearranged the furniture, punched holes in a few walls, damaged the plumbing, and somehow convinced me this was all normal.…
-
If I Could Erase One Trend From History It would be the phrase: “It could be worse.” Really? You don’t effing say. Why can’t it be better? That’s what I’ve always wanted to ask whenever someone says those four magic words. It could be worse. As if that’s supposed to make everything alright. Life punches you in the mouth, steals your lunch money, kicks your dog, and somebody standing on the sidewalk says: “Well, it could be worse.” No kidding. It could…
-
In the Style of Cannock Chase It’s raining outside, As time keeps passing by. Still I drift to sleep, A million dreams at a time. Sometimes I understand why, But when I close my eyes, It doesn’t matter why Only the things I love in life. Ah, da-da-da La-da-da, la-da-da La-da-da, da-da-da Da-da, da-da-da Da-da-da La-da-da, da-da-da La-da-da, da-da-da Da-da, da-da-da The sun rises slow, But I never want to know If I’ve changed at all, As the moon surrendered it all.…
-
BEFORE Years ago life was always about:“This is who I am.”“I try and I always fail.”“Why try when we all die?”I wore those words like chains.I patched the broken links.Tightened the noose.Maintained the prison.Called it destiny. TONIGHT But tonight it is about:“Why am I still carrying this?”“Why do I keep asking the same questions?”The ex.The depression.The old hurts.The generational baggage.The self-destructive habits.I am done celebrating them.Done polishing them.Done confusing them for wisdom.These are no longer things to worship.They are things to evaluate.Things…
-
Sometimes I feel like we’re all made from the same cookie cutter. Maybe there’s some faint trace of a hive mind buried somewhere inside us. Then again, when I look at the world, I see people who are so different, so divided, that I wonder if we’ll ever unite enough to become a Type I civilization, let alone a Type II. That thought crossed my mind today during something completely ordinary. I didn’t make lunch for work, so I stopped at Subway…
-
A part of this, a part of that Lonely on my keyboard I depart Thoughts always invade my mind I breathe, I die inside while alive Memories come and take away Joy and feelings of the day The house feels like a museum of things I’m trying to fix, but the cracks are all inside. Four years gone and I’m still navigating the ghost of it, while the walls at home close in—arguments with my mom, the silence where my old man…
-
Drifting in the rain, The cold is honest—no more pain. I look to the sky, feel alive again. My feet are lead, My heart’s misfiring, My past is a ghost, still conspiring. No one hears the crying, The silence feels like dying. But one more time, let me fall. I didn’t intend it this way. I was already hurting before the end. I sought you out, expecting to be healed, Forgetting that you, too, were fading. We all have lost, And gained…
-
The world is a relentless salesman, peddling the “more”—more coin in the pocket, more titles on the door, more noise to drown out the ringing in your ears. It tells you that if you just swallow enough, if you consume the horizon, you’ll finally be full. So you feast. You take it all in until you are brimming with the weight of it, only to find yourself retching it back up, right where you started. You’re still sitting there, the same man…
-
I met you in the raw—no place for lies that time.It was the gravitas, the maybes that pulled me in,but it was the final “fuck you too” that tore us apart. You hated that I found myself in the bottle,yet you never really found yourself at all.We both drifted like sea trash,clutching at whatever wreckage passed close enough to call home. Be it the sea, the sun, or the salt—we’ll meet againin this vast ocean of opportunity. And when it happens, I…
-
Woke up like a wet tissue—used, abused, and chewed up by allergy season. Eyes tearing up, not from grief, just from not sleeping right. I had the plan. I was going to training, head home, and prime the soffit. The vision was immaculate. I was ready to pull a “Not Today, Satan” on the whole project. But then I’m driving Pop’s truck, and it hits me—not like a memory, but like a Jaguar hunting for chicken soup. It blindsided me, jefito is…
Sinister †Publications 