On These Nights of Dying w/out Remorse - Luis Cuevas

Опубликовано: 22 Июнь 2021
на канале: Luis Cuevas

334

A video I put together with footage from my trip to Carmel by the Sea

On These Nights of Dying without Remorse
(06-25-20)

I feel nauseous, but I stayed up to watch a film.
It's almost over; like the man in the film, I almost feel like dying
I'm paled over
My lips dry as my attempts to swallow

I start to panic
In and out relax the heart
I need to flee the soul
The constriction around my neck

I can feel the demon's hand wrapped tight around my intestines
Tomorrow calls, and the bed yells for my body to rest
I feel like I have things to get off my chest and aches to get out of this vessel

I am calm
The pain of yesterday has been medicated
I saved myself, but only to come here to die
A beautiful life I have lived

Without remorse, I would go easy if they would have me now
The tension of mind to know its destiny
Now or tomorrow, you know the call when you hear it
The silence is thin, and the screaming turned stale

To see my image scattered across the mirror
My eyes hollowed by my insecurities
My heart eaten by my sorrows
My soul sold for tomorrow

I feel human I sick human I bleed human
These pills will save me from ache
In bottles, medicines are the only bottles that I have let turn me numb
Why do I do this when I'd much rather feel the pain

Without remorse, I'd swim easy to my father's embrace
This life is grown hot, too hot for me to handle
I don't have a hold around a thing
Yet, I can see that I am a person for the first time even though I treat myself like a machine for so long.

On these nights of dying
I call no one, but my memories
Sweet photographs to tie love around my heart
Sweet fragments to try and hold me together

These nights they run over me, caught in those currents I can't swim
Never have I attempted to be another person
Another person brings a hell I am not prepared to handle
Water that would burn me to nothing

I turn around to face the little of me that is left
A torn man suffocating at ends unknown
A knot tied backward against a flaw and another
I try to speak, but jaws locked

Words they all go nowhere, meet the white of this night
The only lines I comprehend the only compliment I can pretend I go there often and broken
To heal from the sick beating of my flailing world

Crying out for help, but those cries are never heard
May the hollow of my throat make you come alive
Unable to swallow, I had never been a thing so lost
Hobbled my right leg no longer wants to stand

It's all sick around me
They are closing again
This time I might be swallowed whole
For nothing behind me can be reasoned with
All these strange pains have come to finally run me over.

I had to cry tonight because my eyes hurt to do anything else
I took my sister on a drive to see my school
Down crescent heights in the dead of night I saw her walking
In her face, a gleam I can't hold away

Tonight I drove around Los Angeles for hours
Three hours on the phone with my big brother
He thought the world mad for where it led us, but he found the beauty in the filth.
I saw the darkness and your sadness. We all but maddened at being so hopeless.
Chances are that I won't be what I want to be
On these nights, the truth is augmented
I fall flat on my desire to not be a thing
At least I have a ton of notebooks to prove that I tried.

Tried to be human in doing so, I became
Unending my obsession, even though I hurt, I write
Even though the other side beckons, I fight
I tried to be human on these endless nights, but I came undone without remorse.

In the rancid of night, I stare at the daunting black of my life
At night I am nothing alone, no dreams, no ambitions, only anxieties
On these nights that hold me as I have turned heavy in all the wrong places
I've felt the drowning the waves at my throat

I think about the poem at the end of my book.
I will lose two people I care about with those two poems and maybe more in collateral damage.
Is it self-destruction, or is it coming to
Coming out of all desire, what do I hope to garner? Of course, since I'm a coward, I would never entice it.

The layers of me the therapist is set to peel from me
What does it mean? Your reiterating of my every thought
I turn to that same pain and strain on my flaws
I go home, but at home, there is no hope

Turmoil after turmoil, there was stress and love in my day
I walked down those streets
Wrong streets bleak streets it made sense
I was myself than I was nothing but the man behind a camera trying to frame unrequited love.

You came out in black & white.
I'd fill you with all my color despite the sadness in my desire
To quell these lesions pulsing from the hard blows I've eaten
I've felt this daunting choke since a fetus

On these nights, there is no hope nor allegiance
This is no god or religion for this grieving
There is no medicine to quell this peeling
There is no fountain to hold my bleeding