050515

The shower held me in wrestle
With the waterfall of grace
I saw my hair strands tiptoeing
As if the King's blood
Rejuvenates my entity.

I was oppressed and seared
By the world's shampoo of pain,
And a pinch of branded conditioner
Deceiving my hispanic lifestyle.

I wore no make up nor my fave mascara
And never have I tried to fake my lashes
But sometimes, my clamor becomes so fraud
I was so ashamed with my martyr side
I no longer know myself.

My eyes speaks the flames of my soul
It keeps dashing those pixelized scenes
And all I ever wanted was to be consumed
That ashes will be my destination
It's pretty inhumane *
To have a huge termination.

Life in it's middle
Was the slash-and-burn portion
At first, *I took few steps
In order to learn faith by heart.

Then later on,
I got blundered and fluffed
But the Small Voice within me
Has pacified the other voices.

I never meant to suffer like this
I found my blind spot,
Yes, I did search it
Coz if not, never will I know
That He can unwrap me
From the warpage
Of real aesthetics with purpose.

It's not me at all,
But it should not me neither,
I was caumoflaged by grace.

And no matter how deep the cuts are,
No matter how drained my blood is,
I will still choose persistence
And even the world's deadliest weapon,
Those tunnels of disgrace
Shall no longer breakpass my *foundation.

If I choose to stay again
Can you guarantee I won't feel pain?
Hardened barrier became very thin
I'm about to make another sin

Slowly awakening old me
Sleepiness vanished by just a mere fragment of thee
Blurred but I'm trying to see
This scenery, is this meant to be?

Like a pixelized screen display
Perfect straight lines but positioned in disarray
Unclear, still don't know what to say
Faint but I can hear my heart that says "Stay."

The sky
Is cotton candy
The forest dark
And pitch black
As as the sun sets
The clearing
Gets pixelized
Turning
A simple camping trip
Into a vaporwave adventure

She gapes at the sunshine.
Pixelized than clear;
Vividly shrouded by her psyche's
boisterous devils.


I once let my fingers trace
the wounds of her chakras -
soothing the palpitations and
uplifting them to their peak.


Her eyes meander to what seemed so bright.
Jaded.
What's in there?
Was there supposed to be light?


Black and white;
Yellows are dark so as the skies.
Only two colors exist.
Poor dejected mind.


Shapes after shapes
from what is already formed.
Undefined however when one after another show lines;
They're hard to decipher.


Her world is an abstract.
Colored yet black.
Misunderstood.
Yet it's what she attracts.


Fortifying the tenacity of my heartstrings,
she let my mind's eye open into hers,
as we pirouetted along the astral plane -
our gaze eternally locked.


Difficult.
Oh that is in her mind.
Indifference in her heart.
Etched in variegated beams of light,
She's a piece of art.


These sweetest verses kept for years.
It's the reason why smile had found its way onto her lips.