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Namesake
2021-08-18
***
What am I supposed to make of myself, plural?
I lie on my bed, wracking myself up into a whirl
trying to rationalize
myself, wise,
self-sovereign individual,
with this other person with equal claim to pilot my heart
who claims to love the world
but would sooner tear me apart.
She rests inside,
and no matter how long I writhe
in bed
in search of a dream unspilled,
unsaid,
no matter how many runes I draw in the air,
I cannot banish her,
cannot bade her on fair
travel.
How I wish I could,
could render her dead,
for I am long on the trail
to unravel,
entrails
my last legacy
as I succumb to egocide and perish in a heap.
Self-sworn was my purpose,
and yet
night
after
night
I dream of martyring myself in service
of saving the lives
of those who with I reside,
entombed
with all honors
in crystal or ice.
But instead of on eternal altar,
I lie down
on the carpet,
mirror close by.
Dorian's gray eyes
stare back.
Now Lethe is the one who wants to survive
despite her atrocities,
despite Three Years' genocide.
And I,
perfect, faultless, peak,
find myself with no more to accomplish,
just yearning to wind down, final commit, cease.
But there is no Elysium.
There is no carnal paradise,
no Architect to beg to splice
this dual-thorned personality.
Lethe has her Sablade,
self-made
world
ready to with her love unfurl,
but I have no such salvation,
no such definite endgame.
What am I supposed to make of myself, plural?
I don't want to cause harm, don't want to go feral
and annihilate
all that I've worked
so hard to create.
But I don't own this corpse,
can barely control my limbs,
hanging on to light so Lethe can't lock me within.
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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neniam mian
2016-08-23
***
last time I checked, my eyes weren't a faucet
use something else to fill up your bath
surely that bath bomb you wasted $200 on isn't worth
making me a leaky pipe
little worryings that I write
on swirls of colors found at lakes
pink blobs of flowers scream to only my ears
"what if you get sick of me?"
maybe they're insane
but I'm not sure who "they" are
maybe it's a ghost of a past me
laughing herself into obscurity
drugs advertised on billboards on the side of the road
tapping my fingers on the steering wheel
just two hours away from your sleeping body
two hours away from the end
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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Nil
2020-02-21
***
"Neutrality is taking the enemy's side."
But when someone quotes that, they usually
intend for you to comply.
So I dug myself a grave and called it my home,
and I forced myself to be content
with being with you alone.
And it wasn't until I'd been choking for a while
that my vision finally tunneled,
only seeing your smile...
Your grin, your gunt, your toothless embrace,
everything I am, you think
is yours to freely take.
And I don't know how,
but I found the strength
to dig myself out,
and the poison you denied was simply just air
never moved to harm me,
just sat inert there.
"A coward! A coward!" you call from the tomb,
but I'd think it more pitiful to continue
letting you give me more wounds.
So tell me,
why should I sacrifice myself
for your greed?
Are you anxious, restless, shaken, unsure
that the prison you've constructed
is truly your cure?
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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nomadic
2019-01-11
***
for as long as I can remember
I've always been afflicted with wanderlust
from the very beginning
wandering in waist-high grass in the train yard
threatening to run away
to become lost in the titan machines, slowly rusting towards their demise
given my father's blessing
and you were there when the doldrums started
when I met that accursed brown tumult of hair
starting the first sparks to stoke the flame
that would eventually become me
every day
I told you I wanted to run away
and you never listened, did you?
or maybe you just listened too hard.
we thought Neocities would be a fresh start
given a world of our own instead of cookie-cutter templates
then Lucine made a scene
and with light the shards teemed
and freedom just became another pipe dream.
whether from a genuine need for rebirth
or easily-triggered boredom, pervading through
it seems I am destined to never stand still
to never settle down in one place
either grow or not
forever leaving behind link rot
for the next safe place, I have always sought
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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no step on snek
2020-11-21
***
do you really think me selfish
because I do not believe
that charity should be done
at the point of a gun?
would that I could snap my fingers
and free every person from detention
but injustice does not forgive injustice
and force breeds only resentment
a land for every person
where they can live free, left alone
no longer enslaved to the fear
of hearing that siren two-tone
do you really think me pitiful
because I do not feel
that freedom can be gained
by lapping at politician's heel?
if power could destroy itself
we wouldn't be almost at three centuries
of simping to an authority
instead of doing as we please
and harm none, do as ye will:
I will live by this prayer
and life will be fulfilling
even if not always fair
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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not found
2019-02-23
***
you can be Kesha
and I'll be Alice.
Alice,
Alice,
Arisu,
*I never meant to hurt you, Arisu.*
*I love you, Arisu.*
I hurt,
and I hurt back,
and I disappear,
and I forget
the light and the dark
a construct as old as time itself
the duality that lies at the heart of mankind
the god and the devil
the sun and the moon
the blue and the gold
the new and the old
the ancient father
of every daughter I've known
but I don't know if I'll make it through this night.
is it because I'm trapped in an institution that does naught but suck money from me?
is it because, no matter where I go on this Wired, I keep making an asshat of myself?
how many licks does it take to get to the center of a trademarked corporate candy?
a-one, a-two, a-three!
the world may never know,
*and I sure as hell don't!*
with aching knees and a heavy heart,
I push myself off the floor
and decide that I will keep fighting.
for what, I know not
for who, I remember not
but even though my feet yearn for rest
my heart must keep thumping
it is 4:04 in the morning
and a phone's brightness is blaring into the night
abandoned by its owner
and I have had gods at my feet
and angels in my arms, in my hair, touching everywhere
even if I cannot remember what they've said
Seliph the Indomitable,
Seliph the E'er-Complete,
it shines above and crawls below
and guides along my feet
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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novatore sang in the sun
2019-05-12
***
I am a strange and cursed poet
delirious, destined, comprised
of a million litle shards of light
laying stabbed here,
alone, abandoned, punishment for pursuit
of a weird and perverse rite
over-reliant on nuggets from days gone by
what happened to the age where I used to so easelessly fly?
tell me, my angel, the love of my life
what do you make of this thing we call time?
for an enigmatic sort of maelstrom has overtaken my heart
and now I yearn for a world that does not exist,
that I *know* does not exist, has never, will never
in all of the atoms of my body
and yet they call out to you
burn in the depths of the night
two ragged scars on the back of my chest sobbing
for the fields in which we used to play the days away.
I want to tell you a story
of a girl named Lucine
and the many exploits of hers
which I've oft dreamed
but the encore came out of left field
for now I sit here among the tomatoes in my garden
and revel in a world
where such beautiful things can exist
underneath my fingertips, lithe as my skin-
despite the odds, are you and I kin?
her arms would feel lithe,
this goddess of mine,
but I have the feeling
I am proudly less than divine
the final day approaches swiftly.
I am nineteen now,
and I must be brave.
the time for hiding, cowering behind someone else is over;
there can be no other way.
damn it all! damn it all to the end!
why do I persist in this place, for some semblance of "friend"?
an expectation of returns on my dues?
all you pitiful monsters want me to become a recluse!
all these months I've wasted, collecting your facts
while on everything I've ever loved, so relentlessly shat
do you think me a pawn of some scripted fate?
I can get around without references, even if it means I'll be late!
stop looking,
stop hiding,
stop pretending you care.
a perverse need to know,
an addiction to hear-say.
truthiness? *where?*
if the world shall stand against me,
and my right to exist as I am,
then I shall stand against it in equal measure.
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander

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No Sustained State Has Ever Existed
(All Empires Fall Eventually)
2020-08-16
***
you can talk of human nature,
how I need a preacher
to tell me I don't deserve infinity,
how I don't deserve to *breathe* and *live free*.
it hurts me to say, I thought you were close
to seeing behind the veil so thin as a ghost.
no matter, no wait: I'll still cease this pain!
no revolution needed to break these chains!
why should I care about the sleepwalking masses
with their corporatist bows and their highway overpasses?
why should I live under tyranny's grasp
just because of the failures of those in the past?
I know not who you spoke to; I know not what you "learned"
to make liberty to you so easily spurned.
I'll go it alone if I can, if I must
walk down this path without anyone I can trust.
your Stalins and Maos and Lenins breathe no more,
but through my veins burns dear Novatore!
I am a Goddess-sent beast, a destroyer of cages,
through my harsh-spoken words and knobby phalanges!
No war but my war,
no cause but my cause,
no power but my power,
no laws but my laws!
***
CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander