Why not the sorrow
Instead of hopeful constellations
From mythical legends,
Instead of the lost Gardens of Babylon,
Beauteous notions
Of the heart's grandiosity?
If everyday is a struggle,
If each day we try to fill
The void we are born with,
If pain is all too real;
We are born into the struggled,
To be friends to enemies
To make ourselves whole
While trying to find the existential
Moment of truth in ourselves,
As we gulp down joy
And sweat about under the sun.
The sorrowing cannot be claimed,
Though its air chokes you,
Though it eats your luster,
There is the other that one rarely
Finds, joy in the light.
Sorrow is too frequently a visitor.

Forgetting*,
It's so painful.
Because to forget something,

You must first remember.

I went to visit my friend, Frank
I shouted his name and to no response...
this was the first time in six months
that I went to visit him....
he already depressed about losing his father
and having his wife leave him....
I tried to get his number, to call him
but... he simply disappeared
I got in touch with one of his co-workers
to get his address...

the first I notice when I visited was the unhinged doors
and the broken wine bottles

I went to the kitchen
the first thing I noticed there was the smell of spoiled milk
and the first thing I saw were the rat droppings
and roaches crawling in the bread pantry

I spotted the rusty knives, and smashed plates
the walls were filled with fungus and mold
the roof was the leaking and the doors
were torn off their hinges....
the garbage bags were ripped apart
rotten apple cores, half-eaten oranges
1/3 of a whole pizza and a rusty razor blade
laid bare...

I went upstairs,
they creaked and any second they were about to cave in

on the first door to the right was his room
spiderwebs cuddled with the doorknob
once inside, all I saw was stacked up **** magazines
dried up tissue, and a static TV.....
the pictures were smashed and there was hole in the wall
*******, rusty needles and ****** filled his dresser

I walked out and went to the second on my left
there was the attic.... filled with yearbooks,
degrees, pictures, just so many memories left untouched...

I walked to the last door on my right
that was his bathroom...
I open the door, the first thing I noticed...

it was Frank's body hanging from the rafters
he was wearing a white wedding dress
with makeup smeared all over his face
roaches ate his eyes and his arms
were coated with dry blood...
the toilet was filled with feces
the shower curtains were ripped
and the sink ran brown water
there was no note.....
but the body spoke for itself...

Inside a womb of love,
my heart turn into gold.
I was valued by love, but not for to long.
I searched my heart, since I was blind.
I felt a warm touch, just like one of yours.
Manage to break this chain, and went explorer your soul.
Never felt more guilty in my life, until...
I broke our bonds.

Thump,
             thump,
                         thump,
            faltered
        breath
          painful
              inhales
                 but still
                                                         ­        life.
It’s
            my
                  only
comfort.
                          
   ­                      Just
          making
                         sure
                                 he’s
                                                     still
                                     alive.

      I couldn’t
                  imagine
                       never
                 hearing
that

               heartbeat
          ever


  *again.

In my youth I remember my face.
               Today
As I have lived and breathed
        And died inside many times
And live again in this lifetime;
     I see faces in a mist,
The man in the mirror
          Has no face.

What if,
you're becoming the person you hate?
you're becoming the person you thought you'd never be?
will you be crazy or will you just go with the flow of life?

What if,
we never experienced being sad,
will we appreciate the times when we're happy?
Or will you be crazy and live like an idiot?

What if,
we never experienced pain,
you think life would be happy?
Or will it be plain like your heart?

I wait...
Just to hear your voice.

My heart begins to break.

This pain...
My choice.

I count the minutes
As the world
Seems to stand still.

But it doesn't.
It's only an illusion.

Love isn't real.

The earth keeps moving.
And so must I.

Words escape me
As tears stain my eyes

Regretfully,

My soul whispers...
Goodbye