i’ve killed
versions of myself
so much
i no longer
recognize myself
as of late
i’m
tired
withered and
sore
my shoulders
less dislocated than my soul is
carry the weight
and sacrifice
of the cross i bear
my sword drags across the floor
i have no manner in which to reconcile
anymore
i can only continue
painting
my mother raised
a broken man from the start
but simultaneously
an artist
i know nothing else
but the continuation of
dashing red lines
across a field of lilies
while the bodies pile
in muddy clays
the reds and browns
collide and combine
and it is reminiscent of a
grand canyon
of sorts
mother, i know there’s a crater
left in me
weep i shall
but **** i must
it must all return to a dust
in order for me to continue
raging
so yes
give in to this rage
i must
as i also devote all other efforts
to honing it
it hurts, mother,
i want to give up
i want to die
and stay dead
one last time
but i’ve been cursed with being
my own hero
my own teacher
my own master
my own leader
my own brother
my own companion
mother, i admit you were right
you were right in telling me at
age five
that no one would ever
come to save me
all i know is that
on the day of your death
there will be your spirit
and the only hope for my soul
will be this constant
nagging fight
against the gravities that
pull on my very being
and on every tethered fiber
of my young
and ignorant angst
so with my sword i’ll keep on
brushstroke
after
brushstroke
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 1:21 PM UTC
yes
this is it
this feeling
right here
this
rage?
it shocks me
insurmountable
rage only conquered
by a conquest
over the Ego
the Self
and by pushing
punishing
beating the
bounds that limit me
to a ****** pulp
yes
i will let it consume me
i will control it
i will harness the fruit pain bares
i will use every limb
every ounce of suffering
at my disposal
for the utter evisceration of the evils
around me
the evils within me
i may be yet only a man
only a candle in an ocean of darkness
but i was born with
endless
rage
inherited rage
chosen rage
as long as i breathe and can move
i will always fight
sometimes
i’m afraid of the glimmering reflection
that comes from those red puddles
with my enemies flesh
falling from my bare knuckles
i just stand
and smile
i laugh
i smile
more
more carnage
more odds
PLEASE
bring it the ****
on
RAGE
use me
i am your
vessel
you are the message
i am merely but a messenger
i’ll give my all
i
surrender
to
you
Apr 22
Apr 22, 2026 at 11:30 PM UTC
there’s an uncanny thickness
to this dawn’s mist
i observe it settle
much like some doves
or a crow perching
on the dead bodies
dozens around me
hundreds surrounding this valley
my boots are caked in
red mud that reminds me of
the grand canyon
war is a lonely thing
my sword is the only reason
i’m alive
amongst bombardment
and entropy
i rage
most of the time not knowing why fully
i tend to cry when i fight
i find my craft to be a
deeply emotional and spiritual process
i don’t want to fight most of the time
i wish i was defeated
something to be said about
the stubbornness of my soul
a rebellion of enough cells in my body forms
they work in conjunction
not for a greater good
like i tell myself often
it’s only because i can do it
and because i feel i need to do it
how could i not perform the rituals
of my existence’s justifications?
this kind of war
this kind of violence
this kind of bloodshed
is essential for the growth
of the land
in order for there to be birth
there must be death
i cannot go on without war
when i was a child i grew weary
of conflict and loud sounds
i grew vigilant of being too known
or too seen
the universe says
“no more absolutes and
no more absolute silence”
i’ve waged so much battle against the reflection in this river
i’ve slashed and killed my way towards victory and
out of death
out of peril and anguish
through peril and anguish
most distract themselves from the reality
of improvement and ambition
they sink into complacency and comforts
this world begs one to give in to how
small and insignificant
every bead of sweat on my brow is
i rage
and this i must
it is something
ancestral
i’d rather die than sink
blessed enough to be born
with the capacity of a healer
cursed enough to have to force myself
into becoming a cold machine
now that i’m learning to be this man
my ultimate mission is to teeter
both sides
i don’t want to wage war
i don’t want to swing my sword
i don’t want to cut bodies in half
i don’t want to defend others or myself
i don’t want to live and go on
i don’t want to suffer
but it is the very essence of what gives me life
i will have to armor and man up
i will have to think about my loved ones
and moms’ disappointments
but confusingly
her care also
i’ll think about my lovers outrage at my inadequacies
and her ego as it defends and perpetuates hers
as well as her nurture and warmth
i will have to envision the hells others before me
have come across
the rivers of red im stepping over
have also been tainted by men
i will leave my mark
i refuse to kneel
without the attempt
at getting back up
swiftly following it
the mist is red as blood sprays the earth
the catapults and castle walls
turn into debris
in the midst of my sword swinging
i am branded by this reality
but i will never give up
these demons
my enemies
my ego
my past
my pain
my battered face
my lonely soul
i promise the kid that still
lives in my heart
that cries when he fights
that i’d never give up
“godspeed” he said
“and thank you”
i’ll remain silent
with the exception of my battle cries
and the dialect
of my
blade
- melancholicreator
Feb 8
Feb 8, 2026 at 7:52 PM UTC
si alguna vez, te pierdo,
o si te me pierdes,
espero acordarme
de tus cuerdas hipnotizantes.
de tus notas hipnóticas,
tus resonancias disonantes,
y tus harmonías etéreas
que calman mi miseria
al igual también, mi amor.
espero acordarme de
absolutamente todo.
el momento malo
al igual que el bueno.
esperando nuestro amor humano
que esté, a través de su divinidad,
lleno y repleto del río rojo
que sale de este lugar mágico,
como el jardín de Adan y Eva.
aquí contigo en este río.
me encontrarás entre sus piedras,
dónde te esperare con mis pies en el agua
y entre tus tiernas piernas sembrare
mi orgullo final.
un final grande y grave,
como tu nota musical
en su fin orquestal.
el estar contigo,
es un bienestar al olvido
de sufrimientos vividos,
tu voz, al estar en mi oído,
lava el odio del niño
tenido del nido,
y en sus alas hay hilos
reviviendo los dones dormidos.
reviviendo mis sentimientos
hacia una vida buena,
y el poder de volar.
el poder de vivir,
y el privilegio de poder
compartirme contigo
sin tener que fingir.
- melancholicreator
Jul 16, 2025
Jul 16, 2025 at 8:47 PM UTC
i find the crossroads
i have a tendency to
walk into
during times like these
it’s empty here
except for the invading gusts
of mannerless winds
that don’t say “excuse me”
or “please”
as they pass me
i await for a vehicle
my preference would be
an expensive one
like a really nice rolce royce
to make this quick
painless but pricey
i can feel weight on my chest
about such a lightness in my life
i have people
but there’s this recurring
lack of soul
that makes me feel
ancient and aimless
like lost history
that everyone is familiar with
but no one truly knows
anything of
i feel like the homeless men
i pass by on 137th street
they go by unseen
might as well be six feet deep
in a cemetery
i observe my helpless will
crave for the ability to slow
my mothers inevitable aging
as it shuffles through files
and memory after memory
in search of some hidden
ancient
wisdom to stop time
my dwindling creations
collect dust
in a digital shelf
while i deal with the rust
i’ve allowed to form
in my bank accounts
credit score
and stomach
there’s so much maintenance
towards the inflammation
in my life
that there’s no more antibodies
for anything else
so much struggle to hold
this boulder up over
my neck
which makes me strong
but this constant sweat
leave no more water
for tears
i don’t crave opportunity
i don’t need a friend
i love my lover and my mother
but they ain’t meets to an end
of the never ending fear
of simply not being enough
i crave release from my own responsibilities
i find this tug of war between
sacrificing the self
to overcome it
in order for the greater goods to be
fulfilled
as well as this death of my ego
while
making sure my soul
is still grounded
to be *******
exhausting
i crave a pasture
allowing me to float over the singular blades of grass
allowing me to become
weightless
in the face of all this
pressure
i remember being a boy
and in my island the hills
and mountains and beachfronts
have their own voices
i remember distinctly climbing highly
or swimming far out
or exploration between the tree lines
to be a form of soothing
not therapy
but rather warm rejuvenation
where i wouldn’t think about
my finances and debts
or my relationships and ties to
characters i love
the ones i tolerate
and the ones i’m trying to love
i wouldn’t think about
stability or a consistent routine and schedule
i’m all grown up now
and my creativity compared to
the vast
and endless universes
i’d hide in
as a boy
are a forest fire
compared to my candle
at twenty three years old
i lay here silent
in the middle of this crossroads
waiting for that kid
to come hold my hand and teach me something
because he had the right answers
or at least better answers
he cared about the right things
he genuinely saw
the divinity
in all
and now i’m old enough
to struggle finding the silver lining
in anything
i remember being so creative
that life was almost missing suffering
where the lack of it wasn’t even anywhere near my awareness
and i wasn’t anywhere near as brave
or strong
or wise
it’s almost like the more i know
the older i get
the more i go through
and the more bills i pay
the less of a human being
i become
where the
****
is this **** car
already
hurry up
-melancholicreator
Apr 13, 2025
Apr 13, 2025 at 10:55 AM UTC
“dame un respiro profundo”
me dices
“mi soldado de guerra”
soy un soldado
vagabundo
averiguando por cual lado el debe pelear
ambos polarizados por su ego
y perpetuamente alimentándose
a través del proceso de convertirse en un hombre
aun siendo tan joven
los escombros esconden los traumas
del arte de esa muerte en particular
tu forma de nutrir,
de aceptación y desafío simultáneo
es un cóctel que me emborracha
lo suficiente para volver
a batallar
eres medicina
para una alma
derrotada
crees en la razón por la que luchó
entre tiroteo y faltas de triunfos
no te dejas de mi lado
“tan pronto sigas”
“tan pronto vuelvas a mi cuando herido”
vuelvo a salir con mosquete en mano
y sangre
en la bayoneta
en estas batallas que llevo
encontra de mi
tu me recuerdas que la victoria
solo vendrá al enfrentarme con el espejo
y cuando salga sangrando
se que mi doctora estará allí,
dandome otro
grito de guerra
para volver a salir.
-melancholicreator
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 5:19 PM UTC
i’m convinced we let go
twice
once
in order to
leave ourselves broken
and alone
on a cold floor
till we flatline
then once more
to realize
we always were
broken
and alone
we
always
were
ironic
ain’t it?
it’s special
that kind of silence
somehow comforting
only after the eeriness
of no one caring
truly
sets in
and no one is supposed to
i was surprised to learn this
especially as a child
i learn it every day still
especially as a man
and you’re lucky
if momma does
some mommas don’t
some mommas can’t
yes
as a man
i must learn
to bloom
not only bloom
but to hide
the uglier colors
and only display
the primaries
the strong ones
the vividness of manliness
never my grays
and blacks
where i tend to color
most of my mind
i sometimes hate it
and sometimes i like it like that
there’s no lines
or borders i can’t cross
i’m not expected to be
good
at it
i’m asked to
handle things
and to listen
intently
while i can barely
handle the echoes
to begin with
nobody asks about those
nobody needs to
nobody should
not even momma
why would i worry her?
she’s the only one
ever around
when lingering drumming sounds
rise
it’d be nice to be asked
but a lot of things would be nice
and this silence is nice
sometimes
most of the time it ain’t
but i lay
alone
drama free
and no amount of company
can take that peace from me
or piece from me
givers give
and
takers take
beware the silence
that roams that
strong silhouette of his
for he definitely
opens up fully
to his shadows
and his shadows
really listen
he doesn’t have
to let go of them
they never leave
in fact
they’re his followers
and after a chat
and a quiet cry
he goes back
to momma
and no one else
as it should be
as it is
and
as it will be.
-melancholicreator
Jan 29, 2025
Jan 29, 2025 at 5:12 PM UTC
i witnessed it traverse across and rip the sky open
in one big swoop
like my zipper when i
**** on the curb
careless
maybe if i cared less
it wouldn’t have affected me
this meteorite of reality
crushing all i have
i am nothing
for i am to them only
what i provide and prove
nothing more
give
give
give
silently stars cry
as we all enjoy and benefit
from the glimmer and light dance
as we all look away
while they dwarf into voids
there is a man
somewhere
in some corner of some bookstore
or bar or apartment building
filling his lungs and soul
with tar
while he wishes it was
the world
which he could watch
burn
instead of himself
and as he’s practically forced to pick a side
and pick another pick me girl
another job application
a college major
a plethora of healthy habits
yet still amongst so many
and so many choices
he sits alone
what brings despair is cheered upon
what he accomplishes is
stomped
like a bug
burned to dust
at mach speeds
the same curb he ****** on
graffiti on the wall behind it
it says
“live
love
laugh”
he
definitely
laughs
has he brought this
ying and yang of life
upon himself?
why does it all seem just bad
sometimes?
why is the joy and genuineness of people
so fleeting?
why is it ninety nine percent
utter ********
and the rest just
dark matter?
only sometimes
fluctuating into a
big bang
of the real
version of us
he tries to live
he tries to love
is there really a
*******
difference?
doesn’t one just **** you
quicker than the other?
or at least feels like it?
i’d rather laugh
i’ll just face the mirror
face them all
face all of it
and just
*******
laugh
it’s all
comedy
anyways
just let
me
****
and
laugh
in
peace
and
in
pieces
now that
is what
i call
a genuine
choice
and i call it one
as i call my own
horrible hypocrisy
it’s the only
*******
choice
left
Jul 29, 2024
Jul 29, 2024 at 2:44 AM UTC
pressure upon more pressure
on all matter making me
the weight i carry
for simply being
simply existing
might tear into your fabrics
into your spacetime continuum
baby
this love wasn’t linear but
the ticks of our clock were
a blip in life
a grain of sand
a distant twinkle of a star
specifically a dying one
i feel the big crunch of my core
collapsing in on itself
no more wishes,
no more darting across space
like we own it
dear
watch me
destroyer of worlds
stars and all others alike
watch as i consume life and
time itself
and hopefully sink the
memories of you
into my void
deep down there
where the hunger
is willing to eat it all
in order to forget
a soul starving for love
and willing to
float
onto
**** near
eternity
alone,
just eating everything
in its path
yum.
-melancholicreator
Jun 9, 2024
Jun 9, 2024 at 1:15 AM UTC
where we are now is the causation
of thinking someone gets you
that they understand what you mean
where you're coming from
that they treat you the same way
you treat them
gently
like the world’s most empathetic nurse
despite the blatant risks available
and the *** is
thrilling
because it is like
fighting but
we want to hurt
each other
a dance of
mutual combat
i am your photographer
of war baby
i am
horrified
by your truths and
scars and death
not because of their
imperfections or ability
to stain my mind
with schizophrenic ptsd
riddling
throughout
but because i am a casualty
of your purpose
and much like war
you’ve relentlessly sold me an idea
and shown me how much of myself i have to give up
and to betray
for your manipulative propaganda
in order to soldier on
towards an empty promise
this patriotic love
is a cause that remains lost
like bodies in rubble
a love i have a tendency to incline to
this serviceable love
is scarce amongst rust and ruins
and instead of cultivating it
you rage war
against
me and
force
my
battle
cries.
-melancholicreator
(thanks for the experience…good luck)
Jun 3, 2024
Jun 3, 2024 at 3:20 AM UTC