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Chris Kapela Dec 2011
To ponder
The thought of "is it too late"
Sleepless nights
Bewildering dreams, well,
People call them dreams
I call them nightmares
Stabbing me through the back, to my heart
I can smell the burning blood.

But it can only burn until it turns to ash
And then it floats on a soft breeze
Out of sight or reach, to see the world
Completely, from a different view

There is only darkness...
...until you find light.
Chris Kapela Nov 2011
I want to find myself
I want to learn from everyone and everything
To fly on through the desperation that drags us down every day
And see through the hatred and guilt that engulfs our very selves
How do we live like this
In this grey area of such a colorful world
This area that we made ourselves when 'unique' went out the window
When we started worrying that people would hate who we are, instead of embracing those that love us for that very essence. 

Let
Everything drop

See the world for what it is. 
View it like a child whom hasn't yet been absorbed by this
But still sees through the vision of god that runs through his veins and his mind

Sit back. Don't hate, don't rush, don't deny yourself the chance to finally breathe in this city of fog and smog that cloud our minds into seeing the false dramas that we believe we need

Be simple and love
Share and grow
And live
Chris Kapela Oct 2011
How do I stand.
Through the wrath and the hurt and the pain.
How do I stand up.
Through the knife and the blood and my veins.

How.

When my words are withdrawn, my hopes along side.
And all of the dust as it settles inside.
Dismay and lost in my thoughts as they deepen, darken to a cloud of ash unto death itself.

The strain, The torture
The self mutilation of thoughts of dreams crushed and left on the side of the road to wallow in the rain.
Running down my face,
Washing, cleansing.. Or merely diluting the tears.
Withdrawal for sleep or unconsciousness.
What's the difference, you dream in your sleep,
I don't dream I die.
Every time my head crashes against the pillow.
To be lost in nothingness.
To be ****** away into a burning black hole of desire.
A desire for the real.
To feel.
To be beaten back to life.
Chris Kapela Oct 2011
Staring down the barrel of a gun
A bottle of ***.
Shred from the loved
Torn from the hate.
But saved from reality

The soothing of pain
The warmth and wilfulness
To die in vain.
For the heart feels no pain this way

Nor feels regret
Nor tastes the blood, the tears
That fall from above to cleanse
To wash away as the bottle does
To sink to the lows and the highs of the deep.
The burning remains of a crash that will keep
To be engulfed by excuses and reasons and what
To happen all over again like a knife to the wrist.
Enough to fill with guilt

But not punish with 'death'
Until the nights draw closer
The race grows longer
Until he accepts all sorrows and feels no regrets
In the space and the time that is left he will be free
Be free to be him and no one else
Away from the gasps and judgement
The torture and pain he goes through every day
The world will stop in his wake
He will fly
He will be set free
Chris Kapela Oct 2011
I still remember you so clearly
A universe away and no way to find you
We barely spoke, we barely met
But we touched

My heart fluttered, still does
The flicker in your eyes
The fire, the passion
We ran away together
Left everything behind
Because nothing that we had was needed
We gave everything up for that single moment to be shared
To stay in my heart forever
To fold with every thought of you
wondering if it was real
If you were there, by my side
My heart skipping every time I felt you breathe
Not game to open my eyes in case you disappeared

Forced from my arms by the gravity of reality
Without a warning or a sign
Not a scent or goodbye
Just a memory forever
I miss you.
Chris Kapela Oct 2011
The rain eases, heater cuts out,
all thats left is the silence.
It haunts and taunts me,
as the minutes turn to hours it grows.
Engulfing.
Like a black hole, it absorbs leaving nothing but an eerie sense,
a sense of what should be,
of what is not.
Flashes of thoughts and lightning,
go deep into my soul like a boat on the river dead.
Like a knife they drain my body, unable to escape the torment.
Something so powerful, so nothing.
Leaves me empty like the hallowed ground.
How does it hold this grasp, mentally constrained and tortured,
mocked and haunted.
How can it be,
when all it is is silence?
Chris Kapela Oct 2011
Beauty isn't seen with our eyes
It is felt with our soul
We cannot understand our minds or hearts
What we feel and what we need
It's not the make-up, the body, the perfect hair
It's not the scars, scratches or marks

It is what our heart sees that is not defined
Its those eyes that tell a million stories in a single blink
Its the deep smile that pushes memories deeper than the butterflies they cause

We see all of this, but not with our eyes
Feel it without our hands

It is within all of us
Waiting to be seen by the right person
That one person that hears the stories you tell
That is over taken by a simple touch
The one that lets those butterflies fly like angels back to heaven
The one that not only do you see their beauty, but they see yours

Your souls entangle, as your bodies do
And everything
..fits

Beauty
Love
Desire

All we need to feel this is to see without eyes
To feel without hands
Speak with no words
And hear through the silence

And that
Is beauty.
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