Its that moment
Where stars collide and neurons click
That everything becomes clear and confusing
All in one instant
And that painted smile
That empty gaze
A fabricated innocence
But im drunk
Im drugged
Intoxicated
By both and without my own accord
Yet the truth is there burning
At the pit of my stomach
In the silence
In the solitude
What is said and unsaid mean untold multitudes
Oceans of information
Between longitude and latitude
Of lies
To what degree are we innocent
Which part of our guilt do we claim
And proclaim that we have nothing to do with it
Our own demise
The destruction of happiness
Of wonder, bliss
Of everything  sweat for
Cried out, bleed and wet for?
But therefore
I’m not longer afraid
What can you do a corpse in a grave?
For I have massacred my self
My soul is one with nothing but the shelf of
Emptiness
On which I placed myself upon
Believing magic like a pawn
I’m simple
Destitute in truth
But it would just take a word
From you
To make it absolute.

Then I sensed it
Rushing forward like a flood
A tidal wave of recognition
And I suddenly understood what you were talking about
We are doomed arent we?
And
No matter...
How sweet the victory tastes right now

It will all end in failure
How can I sit back and enjoy these moments?
How can I resist its tempting taste?

In the silence I found him waiting.
He sat there amongst the daisies, and greeted me
As if we had not seen each other for an eternity.
And an eternity it has been.

As we walked along the grassy field he spoke softly to me
Reminding me that this too shall pass.
That time is but an instant,
That love is unconditional and eternal.
He told me not to fear the silence,  
Wherever there is not a noise, he will be there.

So I turn inwards into the silence in my heart,
And find comfort in his arms around me.
He is but a dream, a glimmer off the window pane,
But he walks alongside me today.

Each time my heart cries out, he quiets my tears and reminds me of his love.
A love that will not die, fade or falter.

" Trust in me, and I will guide you"
So I take his hand.
In the daylight I cannot see him, but I feel him.
His presence as mine, his palms cupping my heart when the pain is too much to bear.
He will lead me through this.
Across the storm and back into that perfect place.

If I surpass this, I surpass the world.
I have not abandoned faith, but found it laying where I last thought to look.
Tonight I will see him again,
in the darkness of my room,
there he will teach me all the things I already know
That the strenght I need is within myself.

Copyright Monica Figueroa 2012
Original penned Sep 2009

Thief of dreams,

I hide my pain
Among the already narrow scars
Lines of passion
Betrayal
***** hopes

Hung out to dry

To scab
Crack
Heal

Who cares for beauty anymore?

Enamored by the sickness
Death
Destruction
Denial

We bow when ego’s king
We bow when the Light hides her face
To exalt a demon queen.


Copyright 2011 Monica Figueroa

Here's to nothing;
As always.
Let  us toast
To petty jealousy and bitter betrayals
That years nor antibiotics can cure.
Let's drink to wasted memories
and missed opportunties,
and let's get drunk and do it all over again.

It's the time
of
    night
To come
               c
                r
                 a
                   s
                     h
                       i
                        n  
                           g
                              d
                                o
                                  w
                                    n
From the HEIGHT of daylight
Stars.....
whisper our memories
So I'll drink to drown their silver tongues out

Today the last seam ripped
From the veil of purity
I bound myself within
I’ve come to the realization
It was merely a handicap
Masquerading as a noble cause
So adamant not to play the game
My choices left me with no defense
No shelter
I’ve given too much credence to the interactions of chemicals
Falsifying chemistry
Turning a blind eye to deceits
In a way I was always aware
But I eagerly brushed those thoughts aside
Hungry for something else
Aching for some sort of natural connection
But when everything is coordinated and man-made
Manipulated
There is no such thing as innocence
Merely naïve souls unwilling to adapt.

I’ve grown weary of those who claim
A false tense of enlightenment
So bored of vast displays
Of neon pigments and entitlement  
For where the fairies walk
And spirit hooded figures talk
I cannot find, cannot divine
Where soul and ego bear to walk…
( in unison )
So permissive is this culture,
That I feel the eyes of vulture
Preying on the weak and un-avowed
In what kind of world is this allowed
(to continue?)
But who am I to question,
The laws, the rites of these transgressions
I am merely just an actor  
An inconsequential factor
But I do I dare deny
That in your dogma there’s a lie
For all the glitter in the world
Cannot turn **** into a pearl

I couldn’t help myself.
Digging my nails into myself wasn’t enough.

I didn’t want to bite my lip because in a few  days,
I’d be swapping spit with a stranger and I would have
No idea where he’d have been.

I squeezed down on my fingers,
And for a second
I thought I might snap one.

In my head, I was falling.
Even though he walked over
Placed his hand on my thigh,
Even though part of me wanted
To melt
And
Dissolve into his arms,
My mind was a million miles away.

Even as he bent over to look at me,
My eyes would not…
Could not...
Make contact.

He was just a blur.

I knew I was somehow holding my breath
And hyperventilating at the same time.

Was it really such a big deal?
So he woke me up and said some choice words.

Was he even yelling at me?

It felt like he was.

Ripped from nightmare to awaken into another.

It was everything I had not to lock myself in the bathroom,
And by lock, I mean...
Stuffing a towel into the hole where the doorknob was supposed to be, Pushing my back against the door
In a feeble attempt
To create some distance between me and the monster.

But besides the fact he could easily push the door open,
I wasn’t sure if the monster I was referring to was him.
Or within me.

The tissues piled up as I discreetly wiped my tears.
Don’t give him the pleasure of knowing he broke you.
But he knew
I stared blankly at the laptop in front of me,
Tabs open to self-harm help sites.
But I was just absent-mindedly scrolling,
The words barely sinking in.

Was I waiting for the moment to pass?
Or for him to leave me alone for a few seconds?

Somewhere in the distance an exasperated sigh
Signaled he’d grown weary of caring.
Or pretending to care.

My mind raced back and forth
Between demonizing him
And demonizing myself.

I heard the footsteps go down the stairs,
A fridge door open…
Then close.

And when the smell of food wafted up to where I sat, shaking..
I realized I’d be going hungry today.

But it didn’t seem to matter.

What mattered was the space I now had.

He had said I was bright red,
But  I could feel the color draining out of my face
As I held the lit lighter at an angle.

In this position,
The flames licked the metal,
Heating it to a purposeful degree.

Time slowed down.
As I lowered the cheap 7-11 Bic to my skin,
I made the conscious decision to choose an area I could cover.

Contact!
Chills suddenly trickled down my spine,
Every neuron ablaze,
And for a brief second:
Bliss.
Relief.
Release
Relapse.
.
It was nowhere near as good as a blade.
But I couldn’t afford more scars.
At least not the kind that would take weeks to heal.

I pulled the blanket
The one I had made before my grandmothers death,
Around my shoulders.
Lit the green trinket again,
Kissed it to the skin of my ankle.

Once.
Twice.
Three times.

By the fourth I knew I had to stop.
Not because I’d be caught.
No he was downstairs
Enjoying the food I slaved away to make yesterday.
I was convinced none would be saved for me....

I had to stop because I could feel myself ramping up and the goal was discretion.
Lest I be accused of trying to manipulate him.
The pain radiated upwards, a warm stab against chilled skin.

Suddenly, I was exhausted.
I wanted to close my eyes and sleep.
Instead, I took a swig from the bottle
Nestled against the foot of the bed.
Silence fell over the house, and even though
At the edges of my consciousness
I could pick up on the low tones of conversation,
The buzzing in my ears drowned out those nuances.

“Maybe I should just lay down for a second.”

Time passed, and once again he was in the room.
Despite hearing him come in, I still jumped when he touched me.
I forced myself to direct my gaze, but it all felt empty.
Words were coming out of his mouth.
Where they questions?
He was calling me weird.
Telling me how I was bringing down the energy in the room with my depression.

He asked me  something and I nodded.
Once.
Twice.

Suddenly he disappeared.

He seemed happy.
Like in some twisted way, my brokenness brought him joy.
Squirreled himself away
In the bathroom I had original wanted to esape to.

I wondered...
If he was ******* to the idea of my wanting to **** myself.

I shook the thought off.
It wouldn’t be surprising.
It didn’t make a difference.

I couldn’t tell how many minutes bled away, but I eventually arose.
Tossed off the covers.
Lit a cigarette.
And allowed the numbness to take over.

As badly as I wanted to sleep, I knew dreams would offer no respite.
My mind merely cycled
Through suicidal scenarios I could not give into.

This is reality.
The last few days were an illusion.
I wish I was brave enough to draw a last breath,
but knew I had no option but to keep living.

What is this, but a dream complete?
If nothing more than that.
The day to day toil
Punctuated by fruition
To the victor goes the spoil
To the peasant goes the whip.
Is this not what we aim to achieve?
A proper place in society?
Wet dreams of becoming a contributing factor in humanity,
Poorly cared for by machine?
Is that what we aspire to?
But what of breaking the mold?
Coloring outside the lines,
Crossing out the rules and escaping limitations?
What is this, but a dream complete?
No, it is a dream just beginning.

At some point
You stop
.... caring

...Stop
Tilling those thoughts in your head


Refusing to let doubts seek root

Razing the field
Making yourself equal
With reality

Coming
To accept
The inevitable truth:
It doesn’t really matter

This truth slices through my skin
A bitter razor bearing down deep
To reach my veins, my core
To let my emotions seep out

Drop by drop
Tear by tear
I get closer to a truth I do not want to hear
But I must
-This- is the insanity of the human condition
We strive for the knowledge of our own futility
We amass such great egos only for it's destruction

Only broken do we become whole

And all this
WILL be misunderstood
Like the words of the prophets before me.

It is not love, nor life, nor misery that brings us closer to God.
It is the sheer destruction and reconstruction of our essence that is divine.
We -are- the eternal act of creation
We are Shiva
We are the Goddess of Life and the Masters of Death
Each and everyone of us, an atomic bomb just waiting to explode.

There he left me
Discarded
Without a word
Like a broken glass on the sidewalk
Pieces every which way.

Jagged little fragments
With no intention
Or possibility
Of putting itself back together.

I'm losing faith.

Bits of scattered paper.
Rubble.
Demolished house of cards.
A feeble daydream,
Simply to weak to withstand
The reality of the wind.

Breathe
Deep
As the world crumbles around you.
Enjoy the few seconds
Of cosmic dissolution before you forget it all.
It
Is
Just too beautiful
To remember.

Am I a siren?

Does the small harbor between my legs
Entice them so?
That sailors dash themselves along the rocky edges of my soul...
Damning themselves...
For a sip of it's frothy waves?

The sound invades my audio waves,
Distorting the tension,
Erasing the lines
Between the drudgery and the constant,
The eternal struggle and daily events.
I’m blind.
Utterly confused and
Sans serif.
A matter of happenstance.
Degradation of mental cells
Imaginary particles, dancing.
Vibrating in one big **** of a dream.

I find myself fascinated by your flaws.
Eternities laid to waste gazing upon the vast emptiness of your eyes.
Do you miss the company of your creator?
Or have you forsaken him as well?

Poetic injustice
Gunpowder dusted daisies
****** rain.
We've won the war
and lost our souls
Yet we haven't bought enough gas
to get us home.
We're grinding our wheels
helpless on the frontline
Dying for dollars
that will never be spent
Only hoarded by the wealthy
in dusty banker vaults
where unicorns and dragons live.

Train of thought
Intertwined with the ebb and flow of thoughts forgot
In the purity  of that empty space between your brows
In the shapeless darkness  where feelings allow
Reality to abstract itself
Re-arrange and interact with itself
Here in the pits of imagination and firing synapses
I lost who I was
But found who I came here to be

Soft spoken
This hidden nature of my own heart
Keeps me wrapped up in daydreams

Hesitant
A river of emotion flowing before me
Threatening to flood
And you want me….
To..
Hop skip and jump across
The tentative stones of our friendship
And say
“Hello?”

I sit back down from trepidation

Its not that what you ask is excessive.
But…
What if I’m wrong?

What if that’s not what you are asking…
But instead
You are the river, pushing me away.

You can't reach me.
We don't even exist on the same level.
If you believed half the things I did
You'd be making out with a loaded weapon before
You could even begin to understand.
Your a constant, fruitless chase.
An empty promise.
A futile attempt of darker forces to upset the current balance.
Your an illusion and a ghost.
In the end; you were everything yet you were nothing.
God, Fate and Destiny have nothing to do with it.
You are just the creation of a fragile ego and a wanton heart.

We hate each other
Only because we cant seem to understand

We're speaking different languages.

Your nails bite the skin across my face.
My palm reaches out.
Swing and a miss.

But yours connects.
And they say we don't try
To interact

But we're on opposing sides
Gunpowder
Flame
Scratching and biting to the surface
An explosion of heartbreak and abandonment
In an effort to escape.

Its sad
But we can't seem to understand
We're just the same reflection born two different moments in time.


*Copyright 2011 Monica Figueroa

The fog lifts and the clock swings wildly.
Fully in control now, I watch quietly as the inferno blazes.
In my slumper, I soaked the world with kerosone, and handed you the match.

Reality vibrates around me.
The silken layers of it all slip and slide agaisnt my skin,
My eyes flutter agaisnt a vision of a thousand possibilities.
Beneath my fingers; blood and flesh.
Feeling this body, I recognize it as as my own.

Copyright Monica Figueroa 2012

Sitting there,
Attempting not to hyperventilate
She finds it hard to pace her breathing.

She’s drowning in the rinse cycle of her life

Trying hard to wash the fabric of her existence,
Cleanse the stains left behind from previous use,
She's doing as she needs to.

But she finds the whole thing disorienting
The walls close in
She struggles against the very process.

Yet she is fighting..
With every fiber of her being
To not give into habit
Natural brain chemistry…

Because she knows
If she falls apart now: it will all be for nothing
All the progress, effort wasted
And she wouldn’t have deserved it anyways.

The silence between us is our conversation
Like electromagnetic sentences, the sparks ignite
our pride.
our lust.
Blood boiling,
my skin crawls towards you.
Soaking up your heat.
I can't take much more of this desire.
It is exposing me in ways I've never been.
So slowly does the night change to light.
So easily we fall.

With every affirmation
My tongue trips over the unspoken  
Unrequited acceptance of current circumstance
My submission is insulting
Unbelieving, you see my lowered eyes as an attack
Belly up
I am confused
Unsure of what movements are appropriate
Frozen, doe-eyed and exhausted from the constant dance
Do I bow
Do I speak
Merely acknowledging my emotions
Sends shockwaves through the tentative peace
I was not built for this
A goddess prostrated
Stripped of her very core
Caged and chained
But it is almost as if my very attempt to accede
Is a declaration of war
What kind of existence is this
Trapped between personage and possession
My only purpose is to please.
Allow me.

Fragmentation.
Schizophrenic offering to the god of ink.
I speak in riddles.
Atleast the words have returned.

Copyright Monica Figueroa 2012

I cannot bear
To feel
The enormity of possibility before me.
I'm paralyzed by choices.

Balance.
For the beam on which I waltz upon
Is lust.
I’ve lost control.
All sense of limitations;
Disappear in a puff of smoke.
I breathe you in.
Only for a moment,
but its enough
To break me.

For some reason watching movies about war
Calms the one in my head
Something about watching the helpless fight for their lives
Soothes the desire to give up mine.