christopheref

Latest Posts by christopheref

Who am I?

I am independent.

I like being alone.

These are two qualities I've come to call home, but...

We've been together now

For just over a year

And I've already changed, so I've got this fear that.

I need you to be me?

Like eyes that need glasses, see?

Or contacts, whatever,

The point I'm making is

You're leaving soon. You'll come back, but will I stay here?

Running Up the Stairs

Slow down, my dear Self, stay calm,

make sure you walk before you run.

Be cautious lest your head gets spun!

You know that you're prone to bomb

things that are placed in your palm.

I know, I know, it feels so fun...

high hopes and the best has begun,

but remember, heed the qualm!

Although... if you are cautious,

avoid the pain, and guard your heart

then are you truly living?

Doesn't that make you nauseous?

Is it not a costly part

to slave under misgivings?

Personification

Where do the taken lives go?

Are they kept by the Reaper in a satchel with a stitched in frown?

Are they kept by their Takers next to the sorrows they drown?

Or are they kept by their Corpses until the wreaths of flowers brown?

I wouldn't trust you if you claimed to know.

Do they wander near Hospitals and check each and every gurney?

Do they wander near the Courthouses and haunt the defense attorney?

Or do they wander near the Listless Ones, numb to the journey?

What exactly happens after death?

And how is it that one can take their own life?

And how is it that the world's full of strife?

And just how is it that I can't put down this knife?

Do we even get a choice?

Did we ever?

Falling

Tonight

Is a

profoundly

painful night

to be

alive.

I

want

to run

to

you and

hide.

But I Don't Want To

Widen Your Cracks

Doubt

If you cared you could have told them to wait

Instead of leaving me bleeding on hook and bait

Struggling to deal with the shock and the hate

Feeling like meat you labeled second-rate.

We all make mistakes, but was this one?

Or a sign of our future to come?

Could it be that you're changing, or that the change is done?

Maybe it's been this way and my perception was spun.

Self-satisfaction under the guise of necessity

Left me standing alone while you were in ecstasy

I feel used and abused and cast aside selfishly

Grappling with the reality that you'd chosen them over me.

Nobody owes me their body or their mind

There need be no repayment for being kind

but I refuse to ignore and refuse to stay blind

To asymmetry so clearly underlined

You'd feed the mouth that bites you

And I know you'd love it too

Vindictive

You wounded my pride so I want you to bleed.

Eye for an eye? Fuck that. I'd go for the throat.

Take more than my fair share.

Make your pain look baroque.

My ego needs to feed.

Shock

I laid sleeping

dreaming of love, lust, and friendship

comfortable and warm

insulated from the winter winds

when the lights jumped on

and the sheets flew away.

Now I'm awake

and worried I won't be able to

go back to sleep.

Perception

I spy

something you could never see

with my little eye.

Me.

For this world is mine and mine alone;

Surroundings coloured by my own perception.

I'm afraid as you are not my clone

you cannot gaze into my reflection.

All I know has been tainted by that terrible two,

Experience and Expectation.

Because of them you can only guess my view

or give up, give in to resignation.

This futility, however, never dulls our ambition

to satisfy our communicative human condition.

Obsession

I want to

fuck you suck you love you shove you stab you grab you kiss you miss you fix you please you squeeze you tease you hate you date you hold you scold you touch you clutch you hug you slug you bed you wed you fill you kill you be you see you carry you bury you lick you pick you bite you fight you stroke you poke you scare you snare you keep you reap you

But I filter most of that out

Alone I lay here

Quietly wondering if

You're dreaming of me

On Love

You always hear

"Love hurts"

But what they don't tell you is this:

To love is easy

Between dreamy fantasy

Or memory sweetened by time

To be loved is like taming a wild animal

Often unattainable

And you always get bitten

The Goddess

Deep within a wooded grove

A statue of a goddess stands

Her legs are gaunt

Her posture weary

And she hides her most resplendent beauty

Behind tear-stained hands.

This is not how I always knew her

Nor how I know her still

For within that battered figure

Lies her incredible strength of will.

And so it wounds me gravely

To see my goddess cry

She once posed so light and free

And never could she die

but she sculpts herself into a martyr

asking for nothing in return...

and I fear this cannot last forever

lest I return one day to see the shrine burn.

So in lieu of her own self-protection

I clip away the weeds

For I owe so much to her affection

If only she saw herself as she sees me.

(Un)Certainty

Identity

is a sorta funny thing

because it really means nothing,

almost like all those

constellations.

Perceptions

can vary so wildly

and what's danger to you

could to me be

lenity.

Authority,

when it comes to me,

is really just an educated guess.

One that changes like

prescriptions.

Depictions

of my actions, then,

must be flawed interpretations

made with starry-eyed

credulity.

...

At least, I think so.

Maybe?

Performative Grief

You say you're working through things

but I really just can't tell

because every time we talk

it's the same old kind of hell.

Despite the weekly crises

our issues remain the same

and I'm starting to believe

we're both playing some sick game.

Incompatibilities

seem to define our love

instead of gentle comforts

that we used to be made of,

but for our yesterday's sake

I'll dance to this tune's motif

and keep rehearsing our next

hollow performative grief.

Depression

Idiotic wretch,

You are my most familiar possession,

my very favourite obsession,

and so I think it's funny that you try to get away.

Fucking moron.

No amount of pharmaceutical repression

will sedate my twisted expression,

I'll just be here waiting for that single day.

Selfish prick.

Not a single soulful question

nor any moments of decompression

could ever bring colour to the grey.

Chickenshit.

So when you run out of medication

you might call it regression

but be honest, you know it's just a debt to pay.

Petulent asshole.

So who better than depression

to lead you to your funeral procession

and throw the black bouquet?

Wishes

I wish I could draw

I wish I could write

I wish I would die

I wish I would think

I wish I was hot

I wish I was fun

I wish I knew me

I wish I knew you

I wish I stopped wishing

And actually did something.

Fruits of Friendship

I

sometimes need help

to pull through.

Trust

overcomes my

stubborn pride.

You

extend your ever

helping hands.

We

stand together

against woes,

will

strengthening our

joint defense.

Bond

growing with my

life-long friend.

I

truly treasure

your gentle aid.

Love

taking it’s place

in my heart.

You

are someone I

depend on.

Twisted Up

When life's going well

it gets hard as hell

to let myself frown.

When everything's swell

but my thoughts won't gel

I begin to drown.

Guilt, black and writhing

clings to me, hiding

and oh how it grows.

I know I'm whining.

I should be smiling.

This 'feeling' thing blows.

My mind should be fine,

life's all in a line,

smelling like a rose.

Although asinine

my heart's all malign

and I'm sorry.

Selfish

Shower me with praise and affection.

Sometimes I'll reciprocate.

Put me before anyone else

and watch in reverent awe as I masturbate.

If you dare exist outside of my world,

I'll throw a fit

and lock myself away, expecting you to submit.

Dote upon me, and make sure to ask

"What's wrong? Are you ok?"

or I'll think the bridge is burned

and once again don my mask.

I know is bad behaviour

and I know it's not quite fair.

I try to keep it hidden,

stuffed away somewhere.

But like a starving beast

it rears it's ugly head

and when I see I'm not the sun

I wish one of us was dead.

The Outsider

I wander through the wilds

In the distance lie lights as bright as my own starry nights

And just like the stars, the lights are never alone

I wander close to those hallowed walls

Tall and cold stone, so cold I feel it through my bones and it reminds me that I'm alone

But beyond these walls, beyond this cold, the flames of kindred spirits grow old

They dance and burn, warming one another in shared bliss, but all it does is remind me that something is amiss

I wander through the words, thoughts swirling in my head

They jumble and tangle, fumble and dangle like they're hanging on thread

They stick like stones in my throat

I open my mouth

Nothing comes out

Desperately clinging to the friends I could be meeting, I claw at the walls

Climbing up and up towards those hearth warmed halls

But my courage wanes, another failure, another bad memory found as I fall to the ground without a sound

and I continue wandering through the wilds.

The Hungry Flower

We look at them, heart blooming,

for we hope they can complete us.

We speak with them, kind words falling like rain over a meadow,

for we think they can complete us.

We flock to them, like a bee to a garden,

for we want them to complete us.

We rely on them, as dependent as a growing bulb,

for we need them to complete us.

We become frustrated with them, as if we were a plant outgrowing a pot,

for we fear they could never complete us.

We abandon them, a wintertime plot,

for we know they could never complete us.

We do it all again, as repetitive as the sun in the sky,

for we do not know that no one can complete us.

Small Things

I rather enjoy the small things.

The laugh of the crowd, people standing proud,

A rock on the road, the croak of a toad...

I rather enjoy the small things!

But soon enough watching a cloud became disavowed...

Then Father Time showed to take what was owed...

And now I can't enjoy the small things!

What’s more, it seems others too have been caught up, like you!

We work and we toil against the rocks and the soil...

And now none of us stop to think of the small things...

If only we knew, if only there was some sort of clue

To learn the plot’s foil, to be freed from this coil!

If only we could enjoy the small things.

Longing

How I long for another's loving gaze,

and want for silken kisses, candy sweet.

How I desire the pure and simple phrase

that prompts my weary, longing heart to beat.

I long to see this life of mine complete

with gentle words caressing eager ears,

but sadly fate and I again compete

as I forever battle doubtful fears.

Despite my wants, despite my heart's defeat,

the truth always shines on through these tears.

No need for comfort, I will not retreat,

because the haunting darkness always clears.

Gasping for Air

Today I woke inside a cell.

Suffocating on the open air.

The walls could talk, it felt like hell,

Their chanting taunts, their chilling stare.

I was drowning there, down in that place

trying to breathe without a face.

Meanwhile the walls laughed at my torment

at the tiny broken toy's pathetic lament.

A little soldier, lost in the maze of halls.

Eager to share with me their every discontent,

They will make sure I drown under the weight of the walls.

Curled up in a ball, I find it hard not to dwell

on the horror of this everlasting nightmare.

I tell myself I try, I convince myself I yell,

and yet I always wake up back under their glare.

In the end, I know they could dissapear without a trace

and I would still be lying here, enclosed in my vase.

Without fail, I understand I will always consent

to the tyranny of iron, the rule of cement.

Regardless of how far the little boy crawls,

my demons will always be there with murderous intent.

They will make sure I drown under the weight of the walls.

I grow to love the pain, as if I was under a spell.

Like a rabbit in love with the comfort of a snare.

The despair in my heart begins to swell,

knowing that it's spread is a forgone affair.

It's arms reach around me with a chilling embrace,

and my silent resistance is an utter disgrace.

I know there can be no hope here, the walls will never relent

as their rhetoric like saintly angels begins its ascent

and whispers into my ears like howling squalls.

On their every word hangs poisonous resent

They will make sure I drown under the weight of the walls.

To lose a friend you've never known

Feels much like you are leaving home

A longing stare, a sad goodbye

And your long lost friend has gone to die

We've never met

And so I cry

To mourn the friend I've never known