Malamig
Madilim
Mga tao'y natutulog nang mahimbing
Madaming pumapasok
Kahit walang pintuan
Mga problemang
Hindi naman kailangan
Ngunit sila'y pumapasok nalamang
Wala man lamang paalam
Ayoko silang maisip
Ayoko silang marinig
Ayoko silang makita
Ganito ba kasama ang mga problema?
Ako'y humihigop lamang ng kape
Habang nasa durungawan
Hindi ko kayang matulog nang mahimbing
Dahil sa mga problema sa buhay
Pero bakit pati ba naman sa gabi?,
Sa mapayapa na gabi
Pa kayo nagsipasok sa isipan ko
Ang gusto ko lang naman
Kahit minsan
Manahimik
Mapatahimik
Magpahinga
Mawala
Ang mga problema ko sa buhay
Habang gising lahat ng mga tao.

Please don’t tell me
“you’re too young
to be tired.”
I’ll be as tired
as I dang-we’ll please.
There are so many ways
to be “spent”
beyond what you see
physically—
weariness runs more
than skin-deep.
So don’t tell me how
you think I should feel,
because you could
never understand.
My brain, it thrums constantly
and drains me emotionally,
in ways that you
can’t fix with sleep.

A. I. Myles   18 June, 2o19 @athenaeumthoughts

Is this what “it” looks like?
The jumbled and frantic mess of
a wit
without constraint-
without silence,
calm, or congeniality?

Is this what it “feels” like?
A tornado of turbulent misconceptions,
strewn about
like leaves on the wind-
peppered with the biting
chill
of crisp droplets,
soaking through to skin and bone.

Is this “just how it goes”?
When the grey and black blanket of night
and sadness and just existential emptiness
cloud the sky.
When the darkness that surrounds encroaches,
blurring the point where the horizon
meets terra firma.

Would the power lines
connecting the neurological
pathways break?
Would the ceiling of introspection
fly off of the supports that so long
held it in place?

What is left when the
onslaught of the brain
brouhaha slows and only the
photographs, the memories linger;
when the dust of duress settles?

What follows when
the final downpour
of shattered expectations
fall,
leaving the silent and still
dejection
that comes at the end?

Is that the end?

Could I wipe the rain from my eyes,
to see the brightening of the day?
Could I see the illumination of the sun
and the clearing of the sky?
What about the curve of crystalline
precipitation, lingering in empyrean;
brimming with a wash of beauty
known only to those who behold it?

Is that the end?
When and what and
where is the end?

- A. I. Myles   30 May, 2019

Seems that ‘entertainment-sake’ started off with ease,
But now the pain is greater and it's hard to contain it.
Whatever need be said here's my attempt to say it,
I hope this doesn't leave me jaded,
Even more so than before, so, here’s the statement.
Like a disease, I maintain a deadly anger,
Just to appease the needs of basically strangers.
And when I can't breathe, they blame me for the strangulation,
And heave heaps of painstaking sensations
Upon me. And all I do is remain complacent, so they
Don't see the side of me I'm containing.
For now I'm safe from the day they find me hanging in the basement.
I need to save myself before it's too late to reclaim it.
I just hope these words are enough to make me complacent.
Embracing all evil things that bring me to the brink of insanity,
I’ll compose the fable, as much as I can purvey it.

This temple of sacrifice feeds sorrow aplenty,
To nurture its agonizing corruption.
It envelops your mind,
Breeds conformity, and peril unfolds.
The hourglass is broken, the sand was lost to conformity,
Becoming nothing more than a speck of dust in the rubble
On a sidewalk that leads the fool to paradise.
There he dwells with hopelessness,
Still waiting for the answer that he didn't hear.
The chilling sound of crushing metal was quite loud when the car radio shut off.