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Odd of the Wall

Transparent faces by Mojo Wang

High tides, low lights,
Staring at the cage,
That am going to spend rest, the life.
Blue ribbons and gift wrappers,
But nothing’s inside,
Box of empty rotten people.
I tried to live in between them.
All I could do, just pretend am happy.
With fake friendliness, I tried to look pleased.
I tried to look as if flying high.
And someone said “you are odd of the wall”.
I took his name in vain, may be his blood too.
I might have.
Am too expensive as am extravagant you can’t afford me!
I better be, me and my darker self,
Like a shade, an obscurity, a shadow.
Am on drugs, help me.
Like a nightmare they haunt me.
But still I have close my eyes to overcome the fear
In the depth of nights to pretend as if am the sleeping beau.

But whatever am an unpredictable swine.


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The Line

It is meant to be the way it is to be,
deeper it goes, better
cutting yourself with a butter knife, it hurts more,
I don’t want to breath up those things that i got wrong,
I turned on to the wrong pages,

and am stuck in that page itself looking,
somewhere in between the lines,
or the quotes,
or the verses,
that read, “I deserve not be hurt”.

I walked across those thousand pages,
for that line,
but never was it found in the paragraphs,
that never ended, continued with commas,
now I want to write it myself down, on it,

It is meant to be there.
maybe I’ll burn it, or let it go,
release the sickness, be free,
let it be what it is meant to be,
just let be, ride back home and sleep.



Hello, I said hello. Through the microphone, i hear a voice resonate back, A loudness, A crunch between my toes like the bones of sparrows. The cold numbness push on slips away as it's inside. The heresy I believed in never could break down the back talk. As you came like a piece of brack through, they call me a plague. Why still it isn't hang up? She on the other side with shotgun shells in her cheeks interviews my innocents. i barely could follow the pulse. the neighbour shouts, except the only abutting once. the jumbling mess, no more i could stand up with the attitude. saying goodbye, i disconnected.
i burned the town and the neighbour. the silence just before i lit them up with gasoline, was terrifying and fearsome. and the darkness and the ash flooded sky that came after, was as peaceful as lying nude on the pristine beaches of Navagio.
i could feel that gush inside me, free from the strifes and preachy clamourous disturbed people.
hello, once again, through the microphone,…