Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Angelo A May 2020
he falls down  on the corner
and tightly hugs his knees on the floor
i could hear his firm grip and scratching
of his nails as it gnaws on his flesh
the thumping of his fists on his head
and the friction of his scalp when he hits
the heavy octave of his voice suffering
while it vibrates down to my soul
his heavy breathing and the splashing
as his cheeks slam into his arms
with every step closer i feel the cracking
and the coldness of the concrete tiles
so i stop to speak soft enough to comfort him
while asking what was wrong
but heard none of my words as the room
was filled with echoes from the boy
the room gets darker, the echoes grow stronger,
the boy's figure gets blurrier
at this point all i wanted to do was get out
but i see no doors, no windows
i see no light, no furniture, no sink,
no holes, no ventilators, no switches
so i lay down to calm myself, breath heavily
as blood rushes to my chest
the back  of my hands are on my cheeks
and i try to stop it from shaking
and now my eyes, they feel so heavy,
my face is feeling numb, my lips tight
the damp on the back of my eyes are breaking,
and my soul seizes to exist
i want to scream loud enough
expecting it to break through the thick walls
this prison is cold, dark, and lonely
with nothing to do but wait for the light
Angelo A Nov 2019
do i deserve the breath i get
which should have been the sick's instead
for when their heart beats to its end
and have not told what they want said
to every relative and friend

do i deserve the breath i get
which should have been the dead's instead
for their loved ones' endless regret
of not giving up time to spend
with them before grave was their bed

do i deserve the breath i get
which should have been thanked for instead
of wishing be gone or be lent
of using for sighs and resent
of being taken for granted
Angelo A Nov 2019
I grip the rails inside this prison cell
Where darkness cast the shadow of despair
And silence will never stop its screaming
Say a word and the walls start repeating
Angelo A Feb 2019
In a battle between black and white
I stay grey and refuse to fight
I'm not saying I hate one of both
But is it necessary for me to vote
Because to choose is to leave the other
And there is none whom I would rather
Angelo A Feb 2019
I'm climbing this mountain
even though it scares my skin,
and turn the breath that I exhale
into a cloud that spells a name.
A name I'm not allowed to hail
or it will keep on echoing.
Now the wind kept on whispering
to just leave the mess I'm in
because it knows that I'll fall again
and go back to the beginning,
and it'd be easier if I just let go
the painful grip of this solid rope.
I don't see a glimpse of hope.
Good thing I wore an extra coat
even if I look like a joke.
I won't think to walk away
but now the sky is turning grey,
the ground I'm on starting to fade,
the stars above start to awake,
the moon says it's now too late.
I know it's fate to fail to get on top
but still I'll fight, for faith will not.
Then, tonight the wind just stopped.
Now it's silence that whispers "stop".
It begs for me to let me drop.
I start to ask myself on why,
and what's waiting on that height.
If I reach the top tonight-
I would forget the name, I might.
Although unsure, it's worth the try.
So I then pull with all that I can.
This time I chose not just to stand.
This time I might just win this one.
I can feel excitement in my hand,
Everything is going just as planned.
With so much determination,
fortunately, the sun is on horizon.
To add, I chanted all my motivation,
every word that I know is inspiration.
"Rejection", "Redemption", "Salvation",
"my friends", "my hobby", "my family ",
I went on until I accidentally
said the word that was keeping me
from ending this entire journey.
Your name, your name so heavenly!

The ground I was on became icy flat,
the sky darkens and began to spat,
the wind angrily began to flap.
I tried to hold myself intact
but the rope I held began to snap.
I screamed but there was no sound.
I couldn't see below, the ground.
Is this my end, the final round?
Well at least I die being proud
that I fought despite all my doubt.

Then I wake up, body in pain.
Why am I here, is this the way
to where I'm wanted by my brain?
I don't see any road nor highway.
All that is here is this rope and this mountain.
could i forget if i can't remember?
Angelo A Oct 2018
Down I walk, the stairs we know
Upward my face as I go
To look at you, I eschew
For I see you as a brute
I once admired so true
Now I will never salute
Angelo A Mar 2018
I say that I can,
And pick up my pen.
I drop it again,
And then
I say that I can,
Next page