These days I’ve been looking to the past, to all the women before me. The revolutionaries whose words helped shape the way I see the world; the way I see nature; the way I see simple, ordinary pleasures of life become extraordinary.

These days I let my pen flow freely across the page. I look to all the women before me for guidance because I find myself afraid to speak my own truth. They teach me with words how to live presently, never looking back because there’s no room for mistakes to reside here.

These days we’re on a first name basis. With wide-eyed clarity, all the women before me allow a short glimpse of them as they once were: bright young things full of hope with a cigarette loosely balanced between faded red lips and hands that move deftly over a typewriter. The room is filled with cigarette smoke and incense. I can almost smell it now but the vision is gone with the wind.

These days I seek out: Zelda; Sylvia; Anne; Emily; Joan; Virginia. To all the women before me, I have found you. They’re no longer a black and white still photograph or a short film reel. In those moments, they stay forever young etched in time from decades ago.

These days I welcome you all in my waking dreams. To all the women before me, you are not lingering ghosts being passed by unseen. You are not remembered for how you left this earth but for how, after all this time, you still remain unchanging.

I've always dreamed of adventure, but now, I'm not so sure.
I grew up playing video games and playing pretend in the woods.
What I would've given to be Link with my own legendary quest.
But these are turbulent times.
Between my anxiety and the businessman-president and his blue-bird threats and the media, honestly, I'd rather curl up in a ball and stay inside my house forever.
But the truth is, no one ever caught a crocodile by hiding in their
house.
It takes real bravery.
And while I've got problems staring me down like I'm deadmeat,
I've got to be a crocodile hunter. I have to.
It's the only way to free the princess trapped inside.

If you knew this was your last day on earth,
would you spend it wisely with complete worth?
Honestly I’m scared of what my answer would be,
If I’d wallow in regret or just check out early.

Once you’ve breathed fresh air,
how do you go back to drowning?
In my youth I could never care
but lately I’m always frowning.
I tried to **** every single brain cell,
I no longer wished for feelings of thought,
no one asked so I never got to tell,
all these lingering regrets that I’ve got.
Dawn of the final day.
the sun arrives but will never stay.
Twenty four hours remain,
my death rattle will be in vain.

Long ago I lost hope in salvation,
and my dreams were trampled for belief,
so I dressed it up in mindless intoxication,
oh, how well it decorated my eternal grief.
How do I explain that the reason I’m leaving,
was the same reason that I stayed?
I’m tired of starving and done with dry heaving,
it feels like my internal organs have been flayed,
and put out on display.

Once you feel the sun rise,
how do you return back to the night?
When defeat’s visible in your eyes,
‘cause mind and body are both done with the fight.
I tried to **** every single brain cell,
yet there’s still more than enough left to haunt me,
will they survive the fall out, only time will tell,
I have a feeling one will remain only to keep taunting.
Dawn of the final day,
knees were made for grovelling not to pray.
Twenty four hours remain,
maybe time can fit in some rain.

I’m never happy with what life gives me
though I admit I haven’t been given much.
I feel only coldness in my surroundings,
but have felt warmth from a strangers touch.
Everyday I think “this is the end
I can’t possibly keep on going”
My spine broken before it could bend,
and I was plucked before I started growing.
So drag my corpse to the ocean
‘cause it was always my dream for there to rest,
I’ll die drowning in every emotion,
but only sadness will fill my chest.

I’m in a cave. I can barely see. I don’t know how long it’s been. I think it’s been years. It’s a labyrinth of sorts. Tunnels everywhere. Every few rooms, there is a ladder leading up or down. These, I call “ladder rooms”  If there is a pattern, I do not see it. Most rooms have only tunnels to the left or right. Some, only up or down, and others, have tunnels that both lead forward, two, side by side, I label them A and B going left to right. I only take the A paths. I go through the first tunnel, a large arch. A ladder room. I go up. Left or right? Left. Right or left? Right. I find a round room with a feral Horse chained to the wall. Mouth foaming. It kicks towards me, gnashing its teeth. I leave it alone and continue. A or B room. I choose A. A ladder room. I go down. Dead end. I go back up the ladder and I feel something drip. I wipe my face, water. Rain? It suddenly pours. Water coming from thin air. An indoor Storm. I’m onto something, I can feel it. There’s more to this. I go through the A tunnel. Ladder room. I go down. Left or Right? I go right and see light. My heart jumps. I suddenly get dizzy. The walls around me start melting and I see… A large arch. I’m back at the beginning. The first room. What a waste of Time. I’m losing hope. I decide to alternate left and right until I’m forced to go down whenever I reach a ladder room. If it doesn’t matter anyway, why not be random with it? Right, Left, Ladder. Down. Right, Left, another ladder. Down. I see light again. But the light is soft, and pink. I see waves around me. “Not again”, I say out loud but, all the sudden, I feel invigorated. I feel ready. Healed. My waist feels just a little heavier. I look, clipped to my belt, a Mask, and an Instrument of some kind. The instrument is labeled “up” “down” “left” “right” and “A”. I play the instrument. Like a flute, but not quite. Left, right, A. I hear a horse. The Horse. It hears me. It’s running. No escape. I see it, and… It stops. The horse is not gnashing its teeth, not kicking at me. No longer feral, the horse is calmed. She lets me ride her. I wear the mask. A little pointy, uncomfortable, I can’t see out of the eye holes very well, but I feel like this is important. I play again. A, down, up… nothing. A, down, up, again and… water, rain, a Storm! Time… maybe… I play. Left, A, down. Nothing. Left, A, down… Dizzy. Head. Hurts. Ground… Cold. I look around. I’m at the beginning. No horse, but the mask is on my belt again. Another waste of Time… Or was it, conservation of time? I play again. Left, right, down, left, right, down. Horse. I play. Left, right, down, left right down, pink light. I feel much better. Something… shining in the light. In a dark corner, I see a gemstone, it softly glows as I approach. I touch it, it glows more. I strike it, it glows intensely. I gather my strength. I hit the gemstone as hard as I can. Blinding light, grating stone, the wall opens. Freedom, finally. In the light, I can see myself. Clean. Clothes not torn, tucked in. But… How long have I been here if I’m… Clean… I step out of the cave. It’s beautiful. A forest, a song. Right, left, up, right, left, up. I’ll remember that. I step through a large, hollow log. A village. And a boy. Green clothes. And a fairy. I put on the mask, and wave. He smiles. We play in the forest. I show him my instrument. He’s shocked. Or is it... scared? He takes it. Looks at it. He looks at me, I’m confused. “You can have it”, I say. “It’s special”. He looks at me, and smiles again. He gives me a flute. It’s simpler, but somehow… Better,  I think. I play the song I heard before. Right, left, up, right, left, up. I’m happy.

Was happy. Until the mask started talking.

Soft strung on mourning dew
Moon-lit nights stung, chasing you.
Evanescent upon thin waking lids
The pages burnt with nitrogen.

The aching echo, overbearing hollow
Dusty ash. An after taste.
Not tear enough to hardly swallow-
Or stomach left to try to sate.

The pillars-statues-all in our name
Bleached out hero's in history's game.
Naught plight enough to recall how human
Our blood-our tears-stained our face.

We legends born from pleading minds-
Broken spirits and battered limbs.
Who seek to finally cease the crime-
To bring back the light-wash out the dim.

Give our strength-are cast in shadow
To drive the ghost that haunt the land
Back to their own, bleak bloodied meadow
With our hearts-grasped tightly-in their hands.

The rest is but a washed out vision.
The lull of peace saturates the land.
But you and I have been ripped open and swallowed
As the lion now scarified to the lamb.

Day to night,
Dark to light,
Fall the sands of time.
Let the years,
Like the gears,
Of a clock unwind.
In your mind,
Walk through time,
Back to better days.
Memories,
Like a dream,
Wash tears away.
Like a star in the sky,
Darkness can't reach you.
Light the night,
Joy is light,
Till the new dawn.
Cast away your old face,
Let go your spite.
With this mask,
I'll ask,
To borrow your light.