Tag: alt lit

Paranoid Patty: Jig Is Up (Draft)

The jig is up, the jacket’s off,
The sigh, cause and effect.
Ask me all you want, you know I’d never answer honestly.
Cos yes, maybe it was what you said that made me do it.
And if you see them, maybe it’s the only way to talk,
The only way you’ll listen without interrupting,
When I try improvising a verse together.
Cos I’ve never tried to speak about this before.

Something’s happening molecularly;
An absolute dissolution of my entire being.
People are closer then ever before,
But when they are, they don’t smile like before.
It used to give me a sense of purpose,
To give people the means to smile.
But people started to ask what I wanted too,
Now I’m at a loss for words.

Maybe what I want; you can’t give.
The fulfilment, the direction,
Something to put on my tombstone.
The support, the first response,
When the mind turns on itself.
The control, the peace,
As I learn to maintain myself.
It’s not fair to expect that from you.

He asked “then what can I give you?”
And it felt like a few seconds extended to hours.
I just nestled into his arm, as we lay on the settee,
Put my feet back in the blankets, as his cat lays on my lap.
Then it dawns on me the answer is: “Nothing.”
You’re just a spectator in the event called: Me.
You can’t be my hero, my mediator, you’re sort off; nothing.
Of course it doesn’t feel good to say that,
Plus I couldn’t even say no one else could be those things for me.
It really just… Depends

But for now, if you’ve a roof to cover me,
And there’s still a heart to occupy,
With a shit take away to fill our bellies
Maybe for now, that’s enough.

Sebastian Noël

Paranoid Patty: Decent

That’ll be £5.50 for the underground,
Just to come face to face with another educator,
As they deconstruct the many ways you fucked it this time.
Face sunk into your own scarf, revelling in your stench,
Clutching your Yabba-Fro-Chino, passing Euston.
Tastes like shit, makes your plasma pass at a snail’s rate,
Eons better than pushing trash down to avoid hunger.
Already feels like your insides are gonna give out.
Heart attack on the Hammersmith line, no hope there,
They’d sooner kick your corpse on the tracks to make it home.

The world around you is coming apart,
And that’s to say nothing of the world inside.
Millions of miles before anyone knows your name,
Even then it’s usually in infamy.
Ping! From your Facebook;
“Why can’t you come to this party you can’t afford?”
Ping! From your inbox;
“Why can’t you come home for xmas?
Fake a smile and share some crap food
With the very people who left the scars on your mind?”
She looks down, traces the cuts on her hands,
She wasn’t even sad when she made them last night.
She just wanted to get the same reaction from the outside,
As they’d give if they could see her insides.
The sigh from the bus driver, the looks from her classmates,
From being scared, broken and ruined.

She covers her mock exam results when she gets them.
She doesn’t wanna know if she’s fucked it all again.
She doesn’t wanna know if her momma were right.
She doesn’t wanna know if the voice in her head called it.
Little trip past the corner shop on her way home,
Maybe a little wine to shred time off this episode.
Gets to her room, collapsed in front of the screen.
She’s crying for help but she doesn’t know what she wants,
Cos she doesn’t believe when her friends say they miss her,
Cos she doesn’t believe it when her boy says he loves her.
What Sasquatch or deity is she looking for?
What they gotta say to make it all go away?
Her skin sags like it’s not connected to her body anymore,
Her psyche feels like 5 years out of sync.
Just reminds her she’s got no control of her body.
Anything she could be proud of is pouring from her fingers;
She can’t write any lines no more,
She can’t fuck to save her life no more,
And everytime she vocalises that, she makes someone cry.
So sit tight, mouth shut, as it all melts away.
Scratch your scalp as your hair’s coming out,
Readjust your eye as it’s falling from your sockets.
Your hearts beating extra drums out of sync,
Bed sheets ruined, as your life seeps out of your pores.
Finish the wine, try and lose consciousness for tonight,
Maybe it’ll be better tomorrow.

That’s what you said last night.

Sebastian Noël

Paranoid Patty: Prelude

She didn’t consider the soul inside the bones,
The only consistent as skin starts to shed.
Everything that mattered, don’t matter no more
She can barely muster a prank, let alone a trick.
It’s a 2,000 man funeral,
But she’s the only one crying.

Sebastian Noël

Never Trust A Compliment

“Oh Seb, why do you have such low self-esteem?”
While a magnitude 7 transpires in my pocket,
As if to answer that very question.
A letter in the bandwidth arrives on my shores,
Meticulously designed to remind me:
I was born of flawed clay and to there I’ll return.
Any avenue not filled they’ll find there way;
Whatsapp, Insta or Kik. It’s all game.

Don’t tell me the lens focuses ‘Too much’ on the anti,
Cos every pleasantly is temporary.
All smiles turn into frowns, if given time.
Offers to hang out turn into reaching excuses.
She’ll let you know “Boy you’re so valid.”
She’ll say “You try so hard to illuminate those in your gaze.”
Two crumbs of Twix on her shoes later however:
I’ll epitomise a callous generation of dregs.

Danni holds my hand by the riverside,
When I accidentally get some water on her dress.
“I never asked to be with such a mental case.”
She advises me to get the 47 bus home.

Allie smiles over her mocha on our anniversary,
When I ordered a gingerbread latte when I meant hazelnut.
“You don’t know how to love anyone, and never will.”
I’m left alone with a cold drink I didn’t even want.

I’m staring Christine down the alter,
Her hand in mine, as we say our vows.
With a decade of hardships behind us,
With an extra year or two of love to call our own.
I look my bride longingly in the eyes,
And accidentally put the ring on her index finger.
“Everything they said about you is true, you’re such a cunt.”
SEB!? WHY DO YOU HAVE SUCH LOW SELF-ESTEEM!?

I can be the apple lodged in someone’s eye
And a thorn infesting their side by tomorrow.
The slander is what sticks,
While compliments are temporary,
Until you start to taste foul in their mouths
And we all know that nothing is succulent eternally.
So I believe what everlasts,
Not what only stays present on good behaviour.

Sebastian Noël

Nah

For a victim, you’re sure not above devious tactics.
But did you really think that shit would fly a 67th time?
Drip feeding your attention like it’s a show above 40 karat gold?
I’m sure we got better things to be getting on with.

So go on: What brought it on this season?
The realisation your admirers where out of sight?
Has your ego been feeling dry as of late?
Just fuckin’ bored?
Or maybe you’ve come to THAT conclusion again?
No matter how you try and drag new blood to your feelers,
The talk is small and minds are minuscule.
They have the charm of software programmers,
And the grip of a Rich Tea biscuit.
Oh they’re all so stupid compared to us, aren’t they darling?

The cheek of it, to clap your hands
And expect the patter of little feet on your inbox.
But my dear don’t you think;
That after 7 years perched on the pedestal
Maybe be a year too long with fuck all to show for it?
Do you honestly wanna make it 8?

Is it really too much to bare?
To see other people provide the things I need?

Sebastian Noël

They Don’t Give It A Name (V.2)

Improvising the last act on the Bakerloo Line,
Finding any excuse to waste the lingering hours.
It didn’t need to be a crescendo or a climax;
Just to be in proximity, slap a seal on it; that’ll do.
I know that’s the kind of lie you’d spin to polish small talk
But I reckon you really meant it.

I’m nearly on the end laps of my 20’s
But I’m still so fucking terrified.
Each second planned in my company,
The responsibility has me shaking in my boots.

I’m putting your hands on the trigger
And I’m trusting you not to pull,
Even though you should probably shoot.
Statistically you should shoot –
In fact it only benefits you to shoot –
But the curiosity comes in seeing whether or not you do.

And it’s not like I’m getting down on one knee,
If you think I’m gonna drop a ‘Love You’ now,
You’d better expect this song to end a 4/4 early.
But when we’re rationing the heat in our bones,
Inside a Turkish pop-up sandwich shop,
As the carousel casts a neon shine upon your profile:
It gives me something I ain’t had in a while,
It gives me a motive to crack a smile again

We’re taking refuge from the spacial oblivious and decidedly blind,
It’s as if we’re avoiding being in the shot.
While the taste of cigarettes on your breath lingers on mine:
My favourite cuisine to a freezing Sunday evening.
I’m gonna remember this night, no matter
When I’m dribbling in rocking chairs, I’ll remember it.

In the declaration age all this has gotta come off underwhelming,
But if only I could articulate what it meant.
Cos I felt so safe, warm, I felt cared for
Yeah, we’re beautiful, impossible, we’re invincible.
For you that’s gotta be just another weekender,
But if only I could tell you what that meant.
I ain’t gonna break out the engagement ring or mortgage,
But can I see you again? Can I see you again always?

Sebastian Noël

As Three (If Only)

Wedding bells, wooden cribs
Holding hands as indie singles turn vintage
A sure shot if the soul didn’t prevail
But a noise roared from the inside
And the silence becomes deafening
It must’ve agonising to recognise it
As momentum comes to a snails crawl
But do you remember who gave my heart language?
She was 20 years just like us

You had to have noticed off the bat
When a sadness ever present before
Begins to make itself absent
Around the time she crept into conversation
Then when we started to gather together
It was closest I’ve gotten to drinking from heavens canals
Your optimism complimented her cynicism perfectly
You tried to pick up her frown at the kids park
But nothing we did could stop what was hurting her
We were exactly what was hurting her
Her condolence and passive words weren’t without motive
And it’s not like I weren’t reciprocating

Oh baby can you ever forgive me?
For treating you both with equal agency?
I don’t mean to belittle our legacy
But with just one of you something feels empty
It’s such a tough thing to describe
I wanna give you every second of my time
But she’s keeps intruding into my mind
The casual perfection of her eyes
Her jeans barely containing her thighs
Ignoring the guilt that gives rise

Oh god I adore you so much, how could I?
I’m in love again and it’s a terrible thing
It was supposed to be so pristine, so secure
But I can’t stand us when she’s not there
I want her there was we lay in the living room
Commenting with spite of trash reality TV
Then when the time settles on the night
She’d be resting on my shoulder
And you’d nuzzle on my right
I’d kiss you on the lips
While I run my fingers through her hair
I’d work my way down to biting your neck
Before running my tongue down her breasts
Helping each other get undressed
We’d collapse in the aftermath on our king size
All lose consciousness hand in hand under the sheets
And regain it in the morning the same way
I want to kiss you goodbye for work
And kiss her good morning in the kitchen
I didn’t want to betray you, I didn’t want to destroy you
No one was meant to get hurt
It was meant to be so good, it was gonna be so good
This wasn’t meant to happen

Sebastian Noël

Explode!

The tick of the clock is maddening

The frozen peas look antagonising

Your horror movie nights laid out

With no chance of deviation

Your soul screams but it gets the gag

But it’s not enough to give you silence

Your old school mates at the bar tonight

As he slides a what if question your way 

What would he say? Would he like it?

Has he done this before?
What’s he into?
Has he seen you like this for long?

Does he imagine you naked in his bed?

What does his neck taste like?

How would his fingers feel down your back?

You tally up the results

I don’t think you wanna accept what you found 

Feel the chains around your arms

As they tighten round your chest

The bombs in your hands

And your fingers are tracing the detonator

Feel the blood around your lips

As it all turns into the dust

The glacier begins to thaw

Breathe it in, breathe it in

With a clear conscience

For the very first time 

 You go home, and you can only remember he said no

His name, his face, become bonus features

The narrative isn’t up to scratch anymore

Your sense of control has fucked off home

Look at him chewing on his mashed potatoes

Without a care in the fucking world

You see red, you shoot daggers at his head

The keys to the cell are in sight

End the plight, take back control of your life!

Pull the trigger, come on baby! Let it explode!

Sebastian Noël

Niche

Another list of things to keep you quiet
Another horde to make your day subpar
I need to skirt around the sinking masts
Courtesy of a beverage named for a faded patriot

The snarl to keep some distance draws you nearer
No one leaves a scar unless they’ve truly earned it
In a sea of lambs it makes a nice change of pace
“Hey darling what’s your name” the message in my Stella
I spose the scowl can vacate to answer that
Just another kid ready for a scrap or two
It leaves a sour taste in your peers mouth
That malice can’t be passed unchallenged
But it brings intrigue to your eye
As bratty as a mutt, as loyal as a dog

I’m all the things you need, ain’t that obvious!?
…No, not really
Can’t you tell from the spit on my sleeves
Where they spat me back out from the taster?
A niche, in a niche, in a niche, in a niche
It’s a miracle your gaze got trapped for this long
I’m a believer, but I’m hardly resurrected
Revive the ego and I’ll make your dreams come true

What’s got you so surprised?
Your faith in other people is disgusting
Haven’t they treated you the way they treated me?
How can you think they’d see what you see?
Your hearts split between your eyes
Your soul hasn’t shrivelled up and died
You can sieve through the perceived lie
You know that words are pointless and speak with your thighs

I’ll give your sweat glands a run for their money
Leave your nerve endings black and blue
I’ll connect leather and flesh
In any context you desire
It’s the reward you deserve
When you pick the mutt from the wolves

Sebastian Noël

Who’s Really On The Side?

His mind’s slowly escaping his grasp
As he’s trying keep his feet planted in reality
And give the Sunday roast his full attention
Masquerading the neighbours new car as interesting conversation
But it’s no use, his short term memory is relentless
He’s staring at his wife’s face but nobodies home
It all ends up becoming flashback
To 2 night’s ago in a grotty hotel in Hull
Just him and an ethical side bea
She’s whispering clairvoyance in his ears
And it’s not  long before the results are in
The predictions start to parallel our time line
As her lips leave a trail down his stomach
While his wrists turn blue from the discount restraints
Her eyes peek from above the belt line
As the leash drags him back… Into the present that is
Cos it’s time to pick up his daughter from tennis club
He kisses his wife with absent conviction
All while he pretends to be excited for tonight
When he’ll meet back with her in the bedroom

She notices the mark on his neck
She notices the burns on his wrist
She notices the lipstick on his chest
She notices the perfume on his musk
It’s not like her schedules barren
It’s not like her sides have fled for winter
It’s not like her secondaries fall short
It’s not like she’s tasting the backside of a veto
Her loins turn blue
As her face goes red
She hums a forced gleeful tune
As her hubby goes out the door

A werewolf in Sylvanian families
A hurricane in full house
It’s not my job to give a fuck
Your name’s on the contract
And I’m out to get mine
A 150 hotel roam doesn’t scream apprehension
Shred your plastic guilt
You want nothing else
Now apply your restraints
Let me veto your right to abstain
I know you can’t stop thinking bout me
I’m the trauma to your PTSD
I’m creepin’ when the mundane thrives
Tax returns with the wife, I’m there
Visiting the parents, I’m there
Arguing about being late, I’m there
Sitting through your kids recital, I’m there
Checking texts on the train, I’m there
Candle lit Tesco’s finest, I’m there
The car ride to Great Yarmouth, I’m there
Bills come in the post, I’m there
Looking forward to getting out the house, I’m there
Dreading having to vacate the hotel room, Cos I’m there
You can’t escape me, I’m always there

Sebastian Noël

Intended to be preformed by a trio