We met on the axis of two different parallels
a paradox too taboo to be whispered
gone in a blink of an eye
and yet exist in a sea of desperation

You were gone in the next exhale
and I too follow suit
unacknowlegding of the fact
that we both wear the same existance

Do you remember that story?
how prometheus got chained,
his liver pecked every dawn
because he showed kindness?

We both atone for sins not of our own
but would glady drown in our exile
because it was better than the stale pit
those people call life

This were the worlds we condemned
ourself to be with
two people, who knows
but is bound by our vow to be blind

Winter in my home was always beautiful
how pristine the snow is
until you dig up the corpse
under our fingernails

Just like the summer in your home
where the plants are growing
from the river of blood
that run beneath

You are soot stained, cold eyes
but your hands are warm

They were always warm,
and i wonder if it was because
of the blood that stained your hands

You use your spine as a spear
I use my ribcage as a shield
those tear tracks have died
and there is both spite in our eyes

We never touched, except for that first time
never shared anything except understanding
i do not know your story,
nor do you know mine

but it was more than enough

We both met at the axis of a parallel
created out of the resonance
of the guilt and the war and
everything in between
and we met with a touch of kindness

He is a golden boy
hair made from strands of sun
and skin as dark as
the war that raged inside his mind
his words are sandstorm
ready to blow away those foolish enough
to travel the desert without willpower
there are cobras coiling in his veins
venomous and deadly and glinting like stars
as the dove on his back spread their wings
and try to fly away
He is a golden boy
heart buried deep beneath
shriveling everyday as he try to
held the world on his shoulders

By Nabs

13.
The water burned my skin,
I scrubbed until it was raw and red.
An empty 200 ml bottle of soap laid on the bottom of the bath tub,
I used them all, crying because no matter what I did the kiss still lingers like a stubborn stain on my body.

My mother always told me not to smile at strangers.

I've never felt so ***** in my life.

8.
The first time I heard the word ****,
Was when the news flashed a picture of a 10 years old dead girl. They found her lying naked in a town park. Said that she had been ***** several times.

My mother cradled my head, kissing me with fears in her eyes.

I asked her what that word means, she just shook her head and hugged me closer.
Told me to always be careful.
That little girls need to always be alert because there are wolves wearing man skin.


I didn't understand what the word means nor the fear that echoes in my mother eyes.

But the picture of the dead girl stayed in my head along with a new vocabulary.

13.
I was disappointed.
The hotel was not what I expected. The bed was not comfortable, the room too hot, though the window have an amazing view.

The elevator was very annoying.
It was always too long.
I pushed the button again and again.

There's the cleaning service guy in the hall.
He's looking at me.

I smiled at him, the elevator door opened.

6.
Our home room teacher told us today,
That a smile can brighten someone else's day.

I couldn't stop smiling when I get home, not even to strangers.

I didn't notice the way, my driver was blocking me out from view.

9.
There's a new house being built in the complex.
I walked past the construction site with my older cousin to get to my house.
We were laughing freely and happily.
Childhood was clinging to us like a warm and comfortable blanket.

The construction workers whistled at us and called us pretty. They invited us to play with them.

I smiled at them nervously.
I didn't know why my hand started to feel clammy and cold. My older cousin gripped my hand tight and dragged me to walk faster.

Wan't pretty supposed to be a compliment?

15.
click. open page

(n) Cat Call:
"A loud whistle or a comment of a ****** nature made by a man to a passing woman."

- Oxford Dictionary

See link below for the definition of ****** harassment.

click.

13.
There was a knock, an open door.
A smile and betrayal.

The day I learned that 'I love you',
can sound ominious, make pity rise like a well.
How it can be filled with poison and lies,
corroding naivity like acid on skin.

A feral kiss, pungent breath.
There was hands roaming
where it wasn't welcome.
My body freeze as tar
like dread course through my veins.

That day, the word 'no' becomes my prayer.

14.
I stayed in my room.
I tried not to let my eyes wonder to where I hide the blade. I had become too acquaintanced with it, this past years. Too addicted.

The clocked showed 9.00 PM. I stared at the ceiling unable to sleep. Wishing I could forget.
It's been one year.
I had taken a bath to cleanse my self.

The door creaked open.

( see you tomorrow.)

There's someone sobbing.
I locked my self in the bathroom until I fell asleep on the cold white tiles.

I woke up with a sore body and a red flower was blooming on the floor.

I sprayed it with water hoping I could also disappear like them.

(I don't remember how to smile)

13.
I told my mother what happen.
There was denial in her eyes, and blame were pouring out of her mouth like it was the only thing keeping her afloat in the world.

It crashed against me like a tsunami, and I drowned.

I drowned, and I never realized how alone I was.

The words 'It's your fault' etched under my skin and shame rattled in my heart like shackles.

I stared blankly at the ceiling, resentment growing in my eyes, and I wonder if forgiveness is possible.

12.
My mother and father always said that the day I was born, it was like a dream come true.
Said they were so happy to have a daughter, that they celebrate like never before.

They named me such wonderful prayers.
Said I will grow up to be a strong woman.

I believed every word they said.

My parents aren't a liar.

17.
It's been 4 years.
There is still monsters under my bed. The tears never truly stop pouring, new scars keep littering my body, and my heart will never stop bleeding.
I understand the fear in my mother eyes.

But the red flowers have stopped blooming and I relearn how to smile. It's still frayed on its edges but breathing becomes more easier.

It's been 4 years,
and I have learned forgiveness.

we stand, gazing up to the sky
see it cracked like a spider web
dust and grime  have dirtied our hands
saturated in the culture of lies
growing like fungus,
chaotic in their network
sweat drips down, reflection distorted
teeth grind down to brittle pebbles
holes and cavity
a rot that afflict both humanity and this world
we can't shake off our sin, it's there
forever will it be there, a little lead lake
building mountains as you exhale each breath
tiny bones will grow into one of hollow
with empty eyes and wobbly knees
scrapped thigh and ****** fist
but we still grow, a bean sprout
on mounds of rotting corpses
even as our breathe hackles
torn up legs will march the
march of rightiousness
muddy puddle doesn't make a good mirror
but we make do

this frail body is black and blue
soft hands turned callouses
no longer rosy nor inexperienced

i no longer have them,
the thing you seek
a barren waste land with out fruit to grow
your seeds cannot grow here anymore

they said icarus loved the sun too much
that death was bound to give him a kiss
on his peeling back, the one where
flesh and waxes intertwined

i do not understand why
everything still trembles when you knock
but i have learned how to handle earthquakes
and you aren't as encompassing as you thought you were

there's a little girl that drowned, some years ago
fighting tooth and nail until she grew too tired
so she sunk and everything filled her
and she disappear between the lines

i do not resent you
we are not meant to be in a way
this were destined to just be

but i do not have what you seek for
and the walls have been carved
with exorcism rites, by the little
girl with chipped nails and bloated fingers

bitterness is a taste i am customed with
ever since that moonless night
but to let it poison such things as a smile
is a blashpemy to life it self

i have learned honesty,
behind words and the masks
the you left behind in those old suitcases
from your family

this frail body is tired and weary
in need of an over long due sleep
so sing me a lullaby,
about the kindness of cruelty

Cross your fingers
close your eyes
inhale the coldness
of the warmth that used to be
burning you as you
merge and fuse with the ice
of the arctic sky
while constellation hanging
a noose, a thin thing,
made just for us

crumbling like sandcastle
washed away by the wind
kissing names goodbye
freedom in letting go
blessing ourself with
half forgotten mirages
fantasy of being right
cheeks red from the
slap we give ourself
reality check we call it
abusing one self some call it
blowing raspberries
in field of thorns
hate the sin
love the sinner