It's the permanent numbers etched into the skin
to remind oneself that there will come a day,
that this world will cease to exist with a concluding spin.
It is here, I shall pray for all to embrace one another
in a final display of vulnerable affection whilst we decay.
A seed of saving leeched by the greed of parasitic weeds.
The very inception of its breed spelled inability to succeed.
Constant desiring to liberate persecutions and afflictions,
but it is this exact hunger that leads to internal inflictions.
One cannot do it alone, so add it to the list of unfortunate convictions.
Time is short, yet the countdown remains for this stupid man suit.
Dare to engage in this pursuit to bear rejuvenating fruit?
It matters not, for all roads en route lead to the same absolute.
Stoically resolute, cling tight to this eventual demise,
for perhaps a sacrifice is needed to finally see the sun rise.
Maybe, just maybe, this feverish dream will be sought through
"and I can breathe a sigh of relief because
there will be so much to look forward to."
Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 11:21 PM UTC
It was that fateful dream when I closed my eyes,
And was met with a sheer vast nothingness.
It was within that abyss that a flickering light emerged.
I reached out, hoping it was sentient, but I was playfully deceived.
It was a mere candle, burning bright and bleeding its waxy exterior.
My hand rested above the slow burn, anticipating some sort of pain
to offset this dreaded abyss that encompassed my peculiar unity.
Fortunately for I, the light only burned brighter with increased intensity.
The illumination continued to dance around my body in a mesmerizing display,
But was abruptly interrupted by a soft tap on my shoulder.
A silhouette of a woman whom I couldn’t seem to pinpoint, stood before my gaze.
Although the flickering candle seemed to dim, a hand outstretched could still be made out,
As if anticipating for my palm to meet hers.
I obliged the offer.
Memories, past and potential, were so vibrant that materialization became second nature.
Former lovers greeted me with a genuine smile, but soon dissipated,
while two manifestations of my preconceived identity stood before me.
One of a child and one of a near distant future, each possessing a poisoning barb,
that carries with it, an omnipotent plague I’m self-burdened with.
A nod is all I could muster, to signify to these unhappy souls that it’s okay to suffer,
and more importantly, to have acceptance from what has already happened.
You cannot change the pain you once felt, but you can change how you feel now.
A blinding light emerged and I was met with a mirror,
that defied the standard protocols of how a reflection should be portrayed.
The reflection sat while I stayed standing, and he smiled while I remained inquisitive.
Brothers held the reflection’s shoulders while friends stood beside in succession.
The final curtain of truth finally revealed: I’ve always been loved.
The silhouette faded and I was left with only a puddle of that once bright candle.
The wax may have fully melted, but it can always be repurposed.
A restructuring of the same foundation, but perhaps with a fresh style or scent.
You don’t have to conform to the same specification you once were at.
The pain and suffering has passed and a new candle is upon you, so
burn away the toxins that you’ve left behind and retrieve that which you lost;
The inner peace that has always been a light against life’s troubled abyss.
Jun 24, 2021
Jun 24, 2021 at 6:11 PM UTC
It's the sweet aroma that dances along your face,
with tantalizing prickles upon your dry, rugged pores.
All it takes is one deep, harmonious breath,
and with a heavy solemn sigh, you'll know that love is in the air.
It took only one whiff of your sensual fragrance
to know that I'd be enraptured by your comforting embrace.
It matters not where my travels lead,
for I'll always find a scent that alludes me to you.
Even now, as my body withers away,
my soul yearns to be complete with your intoxicating display.
We've definitely had a good run of fun, you and I,
but I think it best to wave our toxicities goodbye.
...It started with a cough, thus boring an underlying sign.
Maybe had I not met you, this amalgam would've been benign.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 2:14 AM UTC
Am I the right piece that fits your life
or was I merely misplaced in the wrong box?
The shapes are starting to spread thin
and the puzzle is nearing completion.
There once stood a beautiful meadow where the tulips grew,
but the vibrant colors have wilted to a palish gray.
The appreciation for this natural serenity still exists,
but the love...the love is questionable.
Have you outgrown the nutrients that I provided
or is it simply the necessity to spread your seeds elsewhere?
I cannot and will not know the truth
for all I am left with is memorial remnants.
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 3:21 PM UTC
There’s a stillness in the air,
A quietness that pervades the recycled breaths
of nine-to-fivers who slave away for financial welfare.
Upon the bright screens, our eyes longingly glare, exhausted,
while the mind stares to a lively forest; a lovely dream
of a much more beautiful affair.
We live through a lens instead of our eyes.
We’d rather text, than read in-person goodbyes
and we muster up apologies, oblivious to what the word implies.
We’ll dance to our phones rather than move to the shows.
Reality must be so daunting if you must choose a shell;
A safe place to call home for your personal hell.
In the grand scheme of things, humans don’t live long.
Embrace the world and all that belongs.
Enjoy the sounds of a vibrant forest’s song.
Own up to your faults and right your wrongs,
for there will come a day when you aren’t so strong,
and you’ll be nervously waiting for death to come along.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 8:03 PM UTC
Within the deepest trenches of a mind so haunted by past failures and juvenile decisions,
I find little to no solace to ease the insanity that wreaks havoc on my psyche.
Innocent scapegoats to former lovers, a lack of accountability to an absence of courage;
Visions stroll past my eyes, reminding me of my inadequacy of responsibility.
It started with a dream, and it was swiftly confined.
Next came confidence, which slowly declined.
Thus, the hope who always dropped by, inevitably resigned.
It’s typical for people to pass the blame onto others,
But I like to remind my state of mind that it was I
Who left my friends behind.
I’d ask for forgiveness, but I don’t think such purity could be applied,
for an apology may equate to an excuse in the ears of the bruised.
It’s why I hide my words behind closed lips seeing as how
I can’t build a bridge over this great divide I ratified.
I’ll never forget you.
You, the one who I troubled with such pain.
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 3:31 AM UTC
Who are you to judge that which doesn't concern you?
Are you trying trying to plant your pedicured feet in tattered sneakers
or is it a twisted satisfaction your mind eagerly propels through?
A desire so sickening of emotional magnitude, you might as well
use your dainty fingers to reopen a freshly sewed knife wound.
Oh, that's not what you "meant" to do? It's not I you have to tell.
Continue to play the innocent card, it's what you do best;
An Ace you can't seem to stress, giving protection like a bullet-proof vest,
whereas the downtrodden can't fathom to use their resources
to unleash a slugfest you oh so request.
Ultimately, it's an oppression of border-line obsession
that conveys a weakness infesting your malignant mind.
What audacity must you have to belittle those who are persecuted;
mistreated by society and suppressed by privileged voices.
You must truly be afraid of Outcasts if you require silence
for their songs and melodies seek inner harmony and bliss.
It is these traits that are a forgotten treasure in the eyes of the entitled,
for they'll dismiss and deny its existence since it actually requires hard work
We've been beaten and bruised, disappointed and disheartened,
but we as outcasts will continue to remain defiant to your sinister pestilence.
We have a fire in our hearts that burns the brightest amongst the darkest of skies,
and that is something your fragile heart will never be blessed with.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 11:17 PM UTC
Those entryways, the abrupt angled hallways, the familiar loose doorknob,
no longer feels like a home, but a hulking shell of empty memories.
The once shiny portraits of smiling kin are now caked with grime
while the coffee table is layered with dust denoting the time.
Cracks litter the kitchen countertop as if in reference to European trade routes.
The walk-in closet is still busted, just how Father intended.
In a past life time, the blood stains were thought to be wine,
but you can’t expect someone to consider that the house is covered with spills.
Eventually, they came..
Standardized outfits. Golden stars. Ranged enforcement. Stone cold faces.
They abducted the younglings, on the premise of humanly love,
fully expecting the backlash of threats, screams, and tears.
That was when the memories began to fade; the ties to bloodlines had all, but evaporate. A new last name and a new house,
but nothing could resemble the home that was lost: the various “wine” stains..
They were the closest thing I could remember of my Mother.
Aug 29, 2018
Aug 29, 2018 at 6:25 PM UTC
Conversing through a brew, amongst neon lights
one would say shooting the **** about past fights.
There were cries of laughter and of sorrow.
All the while the night becomes darker
and yet, there wasn't a sense of tomorrow.
We decided to drive to the beach to unwind.
The stars were bright and endless; a way to unbind
our tangible selves from the frivolities of life.
It didn't matter how insignificant we really are;
we'll heal, we'll grow, we'll walk the north star.
Separate, but equal beds, we laid.
Asking the most random of questions,
a fetal vulnerability began to be displayed.
Ultimately, we solidified the charade that
in the next life, I'm a dolphin and she, a mermaid.
The following day, I was awoken by a pillow hitting my face.
I didn't want her to leave so I suggested lunch, she agreed.
Lesson learned: it's easy to pick a place when you erase your birthplace.
Initially, I thought our little muse would then diffuse,
but as fate would have it, we oozed blood from fresh tattoos.
I could divulge more details about our adventures,
but I'd have to ask how much time do you have
because condensing the stories won't do you any justice.
Instead, I'd rather discuss my emotions I didn't think were possible
for I have sailed motions of uncharted oceans.
There was once a time where my heart turned icy.
Even though life experiences shot me the **** up,
the "beating" trophy only seemed to thaw.
I picked at straws to apply a healing salve
to revitalize the tender, raw tragic flaws.
I've done plenty wrong in what I consider another lifetime.
I try to make amends for what I've done or what I might do.
Perhaps it's the guilt that's deeply rooted
or maybe it's the love I have for humanity to be saved.
Some would say idealistic, others call it being depraved.
Despite it all, she saw right through my thorns
and thus her walls soon became worn and torn.
My heart wasn't mourned, she held it close to hers,
to be forever adorn. That's when I knew I was home;
for she is my Unicorn.
Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 11:40 AM UTC
I should've seen this coming; I guess it was an inevitable moment.
The time has come where my most trusted friend,
my pen, refuses to listen. It's booming, vibrant voice soon turned
to fearful whispers and from there, only a solemn silence.
I stare at my Pilot G-2, longing for extravagant inspiration,
but the sudden rush of ideas only completes a stanza.
It's desperation at its most figurative finest; a hand reaching
out into the void, fully knowing that nothing can clasp your
callous laden palm. This is when the blank sheets sing victory
for they no longer have to feel my ritualistic, linguistic carvings
upon their soft skin. It's a bittersweet feeling to desire defilement
on a clean page, all on the premise of conveying my ******** since
it's the only "person" who can listen. I'm sorry, Paper. It's not your fault that I dump my problems on you.
I'm just a sick ****
Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:15 AM UTC