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Jan 6 · 79
Old Friends
Let’s eat chocolates and strawberries together
Stay up to chat the night away
Cure the lingering loneliness caused by society
What happened to the days we used to laugh freely?

Has time shaken the course to the future?
My memories begin to wither, blowing away
Sand between these old fingers,
A nail to bite every corner to perfection

The taste of rust is unpleasant
Similar to the knowledge of a book’s plot
It’s either happy endings or disasters here
Let me roam, and allow me to go home in my dreams again.
happy new year
Jul 2023 · 2.1k
An Illusion
From my miserable cavity, out spills terror;
An illusion waiting to bite, the heavy desire of hunger
Splatter and traumatize with desire
Eyes creeping around the corner
When the shadow swiftly descends,
The next victim has been found.
Even with a thousand heads and souls around me,
The thought of loneliness always resided with me
I did not intendΒ to fit in everyone's sizes,
Nor was I proud of the bottle that shook with rage, ready to spill
My life disintegrates within a flash of a solution
I present myself and my energy to a dull audience
But the same smiles just stare speechless, gawking at me

I paraded willfully, expressing myself through art that was repulsive to many
Yet, there were a few eyes that presentedΒ a beacon, despite my addictions crumbling the floor beneath me
I reached out and touched the flames that singed my hair
Till I landed on flowers
They were not the gorgeous type,
But they were just like me:
Odd, beautiful, deterring, and tiresome.

One of them shared a joke about death,
It forced a laugh out of me, till I realized today was April Fools' Day
A skull-shaped bud cries in front of me, similar to that of a child
I take in the smell of the hole I've fallen in, though the fall was cushioned by giant red flowers
As pretty as they are, their smell is who I am
I look above and see a crucifix in the sky
Then the darkness falls in, and I accept the undeniable truth by closing my eyes.
Written in honor of Rozz Williams from Christian Death
Dec 2021 · 2.6k
After I saw her, I knew she was the one.Β 
I knew, oh I knew well about her

She breathed as aΒ beingΒ I wanted to preserve in my art.Β 
She possessed power over me that summoned me without surrender.

I'd go mad without her;
I want to kiss her beauty so well,Β 

Only my lips can entertain a supple soul like hers,Β 
DesperateΒ for someone like me.

I have acquired dreams of planting kisses,Β 
Holding her delicately in my arms as I strum her hair.

I want to love her, making her my statue.
This poem's part of a story I'm currently working on.
I may have loved you too much,
A part of me still loves you to this day

Your sweetness allures me so,
Like honeyed days we’d stare without shame
You were irresistible to my heart and I knew trouble cornered me

I’d shoo away the laughable thoughts,
Aiming to mail you a letter of love
To which you’d open it fresh with a scented kiss

Flower petals would descend from your heart
Your cheeks adopted a sunflower
The stars entertained you that night

You told me you always dreamed of late evenings
Informing me of the curtain of constellations
That you’d like to sleep soundly in

Of course I’d be willing to offer you anything in return of your smile
And the night we escaped, you gasped softly at the surprise
Your simple happiness was all one romantic would need

No matter where we dreamed,
Together we are one
Standing besides one anotherΒ 

Fate draws near, echoing our future
Your bleakness eats me devastatingly
Tomorrow we are being

But overseas, I send you my farewells
So that you are found in perfect health
And that we consume truly divine harmonies

Made only for the sweetened couples
Whose stories fade ever so forlornly in the past
I love you brightly as the sun

You illuminate my pathways
But one kiss erases my existence
Continue to please those around you;

Without me, the world withers

Please remember my love,
And be gentle with it
For it is delicate as the world

My eyes see a star
But yours fail to see within that darkness
The gloom that retreats before you arrive

I am part of that campaign
An honorable being among the troops
Yet your continuous ignorance saddens me so

See me now,
Find me wanderlust in this world
And somewhere, we can swiftly enrapture ourselves

Whether it be in the meadows of glistening rays
Or the places that calmly send the earth into slumber
Wherever we are destined, I’ll always be there for you

Even if tonight’s curtain unsheathes
And you are no longer the image of love,
But rather, a friend I could love with silliness on languid days and somber nights.
365 word count.
Oct 2020 · 865
She dreams of the ideal man,
   but the suitor idolizes death in his soulful slumber.
She takes care of herself,
   though she cannot bestow her beauty to impressionists.
She falls in love,
   yet her delusional passions seethe her in disarray.
She finds new friends,
   but a ******* of overzealous poison tarnishes the relationship.
She cooks for more than one;
   ghosts accompany the reserved empty chairs.
She re-models her home,
   driven to impress; however, she is the only one impressed.
She longs for attention,
   craving for a taste of wanting to be loved.
She is she,
   and she is her own canvas.
she only wanted to be loved for who she was ━ that was all this lovely, dear maiden requested amongst those who seek material value rather than marital values.
To fulfill a psychopath’s pleasurable dream while under psychological stress is rather an unorthodox way to keep your mind ******* on tight.
don’t do it β€” you would unmistakably lose yourself in the end if you treat yourself to these people’s wishes. do not fall to the manipulative appearance of a potential lover, for there is more charm amongst the living right-minded people.
Oct 2020 · 530
Tragedy bestows the widowed sufferer.
Lustered in the cause of sheer beauty,
forlorn masks are shared generously.
when a widow suffers the remorse of tragedy, they have no choice but to share the same masks of the peers who present their condolences at a funeral.
I fled to the sea to find the living,
drowning in dyslexia of libraries.
Have we forgotten how to breathe?
Illiteracy was discoverable amongst
the feeble beckoning hope

Dance to peace unbeknownst death,
requested by an idyllic spokespersonΒ 
My fear for these gentle beings
ventured into an alarmingΒ fantasy
Ignorance to fully expressing
their brains taste nauseating

Frightened of touch,
Cautious of aroma,
Cowardice of expressionΒ 

Fear has evolved drastically
into feelings rather than sight

Never lose yourself
midst the crowd of the sheep
For they walk unknowingly
to death swooning them
kindly than ever

Find yourself and your mind
You may win or lose delightfully

Cowardice is idleness,
fright is reversible,
& caution is granted.
avoid the trio, take each one with a grain of salt, and you live to see another day.
Oct 2020 · 611
To REALLY Love Someone
If you really love someone, you have to let them be with the one they truly love the most.
If you can’t let them go, then do you insist on controlling their life forever?
Do you want to traumatize and haunt their life so you’ll never leave them alone, even in their dreams?
Do you think you’re proper, fit enough to be their companion?
How do you think they will act towards you after what you’ve done?
In the end, can you really love if you only show affections behind a wall or pain?

There is no love that can be shown, if it is held against by its will to abide only by your bidding.
Oct 2020 · 214
Abandon Ship
We believed in our own sorrows, and drunk the last sip of relief until the reigns were lost in the forest.
Now, we are deserted to the realm of the ocean’s abyss, left to kiss the lotion smoothing the desert on my skin.
I abandoned all hope, including the ship in the saving grace of preventing my loss of a superficial fantasy.
Shackled, left to roam freely in our thoughts, breathing for freedom is impossible in the last stages of cancer.

When my body gives in to cells eating away my life, I too, will say goodbye to my long-standing dreams that were aboard.
Oct 2020 · 206
The Funeral
She bites her fingers; she likes pressing down on the skinΒ until marks of real life are left behind.Β 
The flowers sprouting underneath her nail want to taste the air.Β 
However, she enjoys cutting the circulation off for an oddΒ reason...
We do not need tears to water the soil,Β for the rain serves a purpose.

There would be moreΒ women than men whoΒ could contribute to the drought,Β but don’t be surprisedΒ when you see opposite identities;Β accept it in the form of respect at a funeral.

Everyone cries,Β even if they want to beΒ formidable after theΒ death rattleΒ concludes the show.
With the woman, she refused a peaceful rest for an odd reason.
She held restraint in wanting to follow in line; she was in love with disobeying.

The shepherds observed without influencing the individual’s thoughts.
They did not need to enact upon anything, for they wereΒ already confident in the outcome’s future.Β 
Having life wanting to start a new journey with her, she accepts in rejecting what she considers β€˜foul play’.
Mushrooms strangely begin to make an appearance around her shoulders and abdomen.

Even if her soul wanted to stay connected to this world, her body was no longer in shape to serve as a host.
Rigor mortis left the funeral quite early.Β 
Riddled with the perfume of disease, the creatures knew it was time to digest the body.
The woman did not want to accept that her body helped fertilized the world...Β 

She never intended or planned to help the world, not even a single innocent thought was ever empathetic.

Indeed, the femaleΒ was self-centered, but she never learned that tending to others was important.
The woman was never taught how to love, so she died lonely in the end.
Those who were by her side were creatures and life, taking her away into the soil of the world.Β 
Was there any love in her system?

No, but her allowing her body to become a meal was a display of love in the end.
Sacrificing cremation allowed her to rest easy, even if she was subjugated to events that may have weakened her mind gradually over time.Β 

Although she had weakness in mind, she was a star in her own show: the funeral.
Apr 2019 · 245
Behind a closed eye is the killer that lurks in the shadows. His name is...... STRESS. They call him the β€˜the silent killer’. He finds you when you find him. He plans his attacks to prey on the young and the weak minded at night, for they are the best prey. Right before the last shadow, he slips into unconsciousness and delves into the networks of the brain. And then, that is when he begins his work.

He’s only friends with himself.

He’s out to get me,

He’s out to get you.

  You best watch yourself if you don’t wanna be caught by the bad man. You don’t wanna run into him on the way home. You wouldn’t like to know what he would do with a live body. His fingers will work his way through, destroying your mind complexion. It is all claimed. By brutal force, he will shelter your brain into solitude, hiding your brain away as a hermit to begin the ritual of slipping on the juice.

He’ll have you crawling on your knees,

your eyes will crave the desperate lust of freedom.

He’ll wrap his arms around your chest and squeeze it tight without ever stopping.

He’ll bathe you in wrinkles and steal your fountain of youth,

He’ll crawl into your brain and rot it away, drinking the juice,

He’ll alienate any living individual you socialized with.

He’ll knock down your door one day.... and **** you.

   Let out all your pretty screams and cries if you wish to alleviate two-second pains of memory burns.

  You can’t escape stress once you’re snared in his trap. His body fuses with yours the instant you are found. Your physical body becomes a walking piece of meat while your mental body is possessed by the demon named stress. There is no escape, you are trapped and there is nothing furthermore of what you can do. He'll corrupt the cells, weaken your heart, and drain your lively source that was beneficial in assuming you were vivacious. If not dead once, it wouldn't matter anyway, as he would consider you a treat.

  For you are already dead.
likewise, avoiding stress, in general, is key mates
Apr 2019 · 254
Fathoms of Loneliness
No one wants to be alone, nor forgotten. They can forget others well, having no sense of care, but those who do have kissed kind hearts hurt so delightfully. Tearing and shredding at your morality, your sanity... is this what you desire? Heartbreakingly painful intimacy when you don't feel anything. The ****** can only bleed for so long when sacrifice has not been made. Desire, lust, need, want, claim, capture, devour. I want you! I want to kiss your lips to make me happy for self-benefits. Trying to care is... difficult for the human mind. Can you really be bothered to let me have a kiss? It's simple, I promise. Each kiss shows how well you care about me.

  Do not make me feel like anything.

  A peck is all I want and that's it. Share your love with me, I will do the same in return; equally passionate. Let me grab your face, press my fingers into your oily skin, and devour you like an apple. Chewing slowly, but generously. Traveling magic sounds surrounding us, dark glooms suffocating. A train screams against the tracks, rushing winds blowing our clothes. We stand so close to the bullet, but it does no damage. Green pastures want us to tame them, but we choose the toxic city life. You, me, in my city dreams, let us dance. Hazardous fumes scraping our nostrils clean, they want in immediately. Picking, inhaling. No! Get out. You are not killing our future babe. I slither up your arms and hesitate before I beg for your acceptance with simplicity.

  Be my bird and I'll be your snake that withdraws from hunger horrors.

  Your kisses will qualm my intricate reptilian cannibalism.

  Repeat! Cannibalism. Let me devour your love with ominous speakings.

  Please smother me with your attention, let us share wondrous memories today. I do not want babes I've decided, but only you. I want our souls to be bound together in marriage. Allowances of a pretzel to show our romance united is a treacherous pleasure I need. Our animal ate the pretzel. Escaping into my realms and waking in the morning, I plan to think of only you. So easily in love, you already have my heart. Vanish and friends will be agitated hearing me moan about your missing ambiance. I will do nothing in the meantime, and wait for your return. Promised plans, are not so promised when you're the only person who's on my mind. Cry, oh cry is all I can do.

  But I can't help it, I love you so much. My so's and my much's mean it well.

  I hope you don’t forget me someday. I can't fathom to think of being left alone. My fathoms of loneliness are on jury duty, but I wish they return from the seas, free of a witness charge. Darkness, galore of shadow stepping winds. Crawl over the hills, dance on the strings, exhale through holes. Play the song of loneliness to set the mood, the ambiance, everything. The heart is no longer seeping with love but thick sadness. You've sent me into depression, how dare you! Eliminate yourself from my eyes, your presence is banned. Forcing myself to forget you are an odd sin. Why would I and how could I? I adore you so.

  Love me... let me hear you say you love me once, but not twice.

  Each head turn, I always think you're there with me. Can you really be there and a ghost greeting me? Won't life be easier if I see the image of you? Visualizing your frame is not meant as seeing your face. Having my heart quiver and deteriorate every second I am gone, you are a fool to be reckoned with. Come, return, quickly. A portal is waiting. Dramatic fear, dashing opponents, tipping over love scenarios. Sinking sinking sinking? I don't know at this point anymore.

  I miss you, come back, don't leave me.

  Over here I'm wandering blindly into the darkness, falling into solitude. Dear white knight, won't you do something? Guide me in the right ways, or else, I will return to be claimed by an unspeakable force. Unpleasant pleas of safety measure terribly. You're not good at maths, are you? Guide me! If you won't save me, then I am done being kind to you. You are a despicable human being... get out, get out! I never want to think about you again. Just leave me be and allow me to walk in shambles and prison clothes. My times are now mine, not yours. Who were you to begin with? You were really a mistake, weren't you?

  Shoo, leave. Rid of yourself, you... good riddance.

  Do not ever enter my life again, continue your own path of self-loathing stupidity and remain irresponsibly foolish as always. You were really big for nothing. If you had caring eyes, you would notice someone genuinely cared, but you chose to remain in the sunlight. So be it then, a choice is a person's will to do. You may not see this, but, kind loves turn cold 'cause of people like you, putrid filth. They were better off without you anyway, your crime. I can fathom about my loneliness whenever I want, but it'll be a blessing to have you gone for sure. Silence and end it, midnight ramblings of lost love and liquified dreams are no more.

  **** them all, and fall in love with rotten fakeness that doesn't inflict pain.

  Engage it and be engaged. You want to marry and be married again? No problem, love is fine. Any usurpers will be demolished as speckles of dead skin cells. Pull it off carefully, carefully. Rip it! Pull it all away like furniture hidden for centuries, take it away, tear it off, expose it, reveal it, LET IT BE SHOWN TO THE WORLD! Unused profanities of the word 'fathom' work so well in sentences. If you can't fathom the thought, then why are you here? Shouldn't you be next in line waiting for prescription refills? That being aside, I'll take my leave and ghost into the sun. Goodbye.
yes im getting back into poetry again yipee
I love the past.
Not only because of the bad and good memories, but because of how I managed to glide through things easily.
all of it is rather unbelievable...
i don’t believe it myself and the thoughts just keep poking at my mind like they’re sticking knives in my brain!
I just want them to stop
they won’t stop experimenting on me
I am not a hamster.

regret is on my mind and alcohol seems to be my only friend
no one understands my pain of what Im going through.
they just wouldn’t understand.
the kids look at me as if I killed another man.
but here I just walk on a straight path that leads to nowhere
the never-ending road with the white light at the end that I can’t reach.

no matter how fast I run, no matter how intelligently I think, it goes farther and farther away.
the daily thought that rests in my god-forsaken mind is when will I ever go home?
when will I experience the warm feeling of returning home after a long day and seeing loved ones?
take me home, alcohol, take me away to the sweet paradise of liquor and whiskey that I was destined to go for rehab
I’m sure everyone there would like me.

the next thing you know I blinked my eyes and I was strapped to a wheelchair.
my hands moved by themselves and I felt a shadow loom over my shoulder
it was a nurse in a white gown with a red and white hat
she asked me how i was doing and I replied I was doing terrible.
she reassured me I would feel better once I got to the hang of things here.
socializing she said was the thing to do.
I didn’t learn of her name but I’ll remember her by her firm feminine voice.
her voice was rather comforting, just listening.
to her made me feel like I was actually talking to someone who could understand me.
I wish I could have spoke with the unknown nurse more, but she was already occupied again.
the moment she was gone, that light I see at the end of the lonesome path I walk disappeared.
I came to my senses and noticed the neatness of the rehab center.
someone with OCD would embrace in joy seeing this.

a man in a blue suit walks in with a silent expression, eyes down and face forward
he pulls a chair out of darkness and sits in it unpolitely
then, his eyes come into contact with mine, as if they mean to startle
i glance at the man with pursed lips, then i notice he has a card.
but the card suddenly snaps with callous fingers releasing the card.
"this is you. your life, your everything. you became an alcoholic, hamster, and a alcoholic. you have no family, and you have nothing. all you own is your past, present, and future."
looking down at the broken white business card, i imagined the card from the man's analogy as my own life.
piecing it all together one by one, it all started making sense.
i can be something from nothing, i can have something, being born with a purpose.
from nothing to something, i am me.

the strange chat with the peculiar man changed the train of thought going through my brain.
suddenly i no longer felt the needles poking at my brain, i was reassured in being a better person.
my bones suddenly became thicker with the covering of more addition of healthy fat.
the dark cloud slowly disappearing into the moon...
from the days passing by ever since the interview, i realized i had changes happening within me.
my paradise of whiskey and liquor was no more, and my brain married a new paradise: freedom.
when you think of the past, it's a place you'd like to be in for sometime unless someone snaps you out of it.
mistakes are just old memories and scars

— The End —