Becoming intimate with
pain. Laughing with
death. My pastime.

Then unfold me
to lick the flames. You
and me burn simultaneously.

Why life demands
toll for crossing the river
of ashes and bones?

Like night bird
you hop and stop in neighborhood.
Looking for lithe snake.

September tears.
It was ending after the
red moon bleeds.

Was there any name left for the void?

She was just a little girl with tousled dark brown locks.
Life had not been kind to her, not kind to her at all.
Her parents both killed in the war; the little one was in shock.
They placed her in our orphanage; there was no next of kin to call.

The little girl was quiet and seldom ever smiled.
She would often wake up screaming from the horrors that she saw.
She would not play with the others; Aloofness was her style.
Her gaze was like a veteran who had seen enough of war.

One day I found her drawing with a little piece of chalk.
She drew a picture of her mother on the floor beside her bed.
I observed her from the shadows; there was no need to talk
As she curled up like a fetus and slept on the floor instead.

It was just a crude chalk drawing; no masterpiece of art
But it gave the poor child comfort as she lay there in the dark
There in the safety of the womb beneath her mother’s heart,
Was a refuge from a reality that was painful cruel and stark.

I do this for my father
Who I’ve only ever seen from time to time
In my dreams

I do this for my mother
Who’s finally clean
No longer a fiend

I do this for my sister and my brothers
The few that I unknowingly need

I do this for you
To understand
That these things are me

I feel shattered in multiple ways, yet I try to persevere every day. I've grown bitter and isolated, fatigued by humanity, yet bound to it. So, I seek solace in solitary activities like dancing, playing, and immersing myself in nature, hoping the healing waves will wash over me. I am harsh on myself but hope that one day everything will fall into place harmoniously. I push myself harder to bring about change and find peace, no matter where I am. However, I don't seek sympathy, as I'm tired of the constant coming and going of people. Instead, I'd rather chase butterflies, crawl with lizards, climb with monkeys, and fly like birds—free of the need to impress or create for anyone.

God forgive me, I've wished not to exist too many times, but I won't take my own life because I believe it's cowardly. So, I'll face the ebb and flow of pain and peace, love and fear, and everything else life throws at me. I'm not running away, but I'll find my own quiet spot on a mountaintop to feel every day until I have no more days.

I've called myself insane, but I'm told that I'm loved through all the misery and shame. Break me a thousand times, God, if you need to, so that I may either be rebuilt into a glorious light or fade away like dust. Life is both a gift and a curse, as everything is temporary, and many of us are lost. We've collectively created this world of masks and shadows, false hope and deathly hallows, but there's more to it all.

I've glimpsed it in a dream, but it was just a passing scene. Now, these words I've typed will fade into history as a mystery, but they mean everything to me and nothing to you. At the end of it all, I don't know what I'm saying, as I'm using a language taught to me by other beings lost in this world of mystery. As a child, I couldn't speak, yet I felt everything. I long to return to where words don't exist, and the wind whispers calmness. I'll let go of the mental prison built over the years, allowing my imagination to soar, and always remember that I'm free to fly.

My eyes my eyes
They tell me lies
I know my ears
Have failed
For years
The light shines on
an elaborate illusion
A prickly rose bush
Of confusion
From the pedals
To the thorns
Ignorance is torn
I savored the sweet sent of roses
An now find myself sinking
Into the dust

Show me where the rainbow ends
Where the colors fade
Black and white begins
Where is the line between the truth
and a lie
Whether your happy or sad
You still cry
Is knowledge an illusion
An unobtainable thing
We lack the first note
Of a song we wish to sing
Yet we dance about this rock
we call home
Singing away as if we were alone
Two eyes so I can see
But the blind know as much as me
The mind is a house of locked doors
Endless stairs and untouched floors

Sitting alone, in the booth at the back of the tiny diner.  Staring aimlessly out if the window, watching, observing, earth's nature.  Sad-looking eyes, slumped over shoulders.  Not one word seps out of her slightly frowning mouth.  She sits as if she were a statue, her eyes glued to the fascinating window.

Blue.

But beautiful.

A boy carrying the same color of blue, walks into the diner.  Scans the room, avoiding any eye contact.  Until he saw the reflection from the window of the sad-looking blue eyes of the mysterious girl, sitting alone.  Walks over to her booth, and the color of their shared sadness evolves into a brighter blue, the mysterious girl finally looking up, the boy staring into her beautiful sad eyes.

And he thinks he sees her smile.