Created: Feb 20, 2019
Modified: March 17, 2019
I smile, she cries.
We’re both outgoing, and sometimes shy.
She loves, I hate.
I’m amazing, she is unknown.
She is beautiful, I am a mess.
She is happy but were both depressed.
Our mask is perfect:
We both hide the darkness in us.
Every twinge and ache,
a phantom of my mind,
an amplified sensation,
not so easy to unwind.
The slightest pain or pang,
feels like a thousand knives,
a sharpened sensitivity,
that rules my daily life.
My body’s alarm bells,
ring louder every day,
a symphony of sensations,
that won’t just fade away.
But in the midst of it all,
I’ll hold onto hope and light,
and strive to find some peace,
amidst this endless fight.
Even in this struggle,
I know that I’m not alone,
and with each new morning,
I’ll find the strength to go on.
Created: Jul 24, 2018,
Last modified: Jul 16, 2019, 15:11
Their cursed mind
What shall you do Broken children?
Their fears are coming to life
Their blood is boiling,
Their eyes are changing
Their claws are showing,
Their voice is changing
Their skin is breaking
They can’t run
They can’t hide from themselves
The broken children in them can’t wait to play
What shall you do Broken children?
What shall you do?
The answer
There are so many things we hope to fix
This is why we are rather anxious to be and not be seen, I question if we as a collective are ready, and to
be honest some of us don’t know
They want to fix and show
the best of them. Not the perfect
Them, “but a human us”. So much I want.
to repair me. So much I have to fix about myself.
Created: July 16, 2019
Last modified: July 16, 2019
I walk the face of the earth once more,
a mindless puppet; my strings are torn.
The creaky bones, the lousy eyesight,
yet the chance to turn wrong to right.
Wars-a-waging, old man’s guilt,
the world’s now on more than just a tilt.
Parents weeping, children were slain,
bloody thoughts and fear will reign.
I looked into the shadows, a creature did lurk.
He whispered to me, hiding a smirk.
“Thou shalt be killed if they can’t find
the demon is lurking in thou mind.”
So off I ventured to quench my thirst,
of corpses piled with hearts-a-burst.
And on that quest what did I see?
El camí desolat del destí.
Created: Aug 17, 2019
Last modified: Oct 21, 2019, 21:04
To this day I stopped trying to be ‘someone for somebody
who never thought of me as anyone appreciating or important to them.
Inside I know the space I had for them is now crushed and broken.
I’ve learned that sometimes emotions seem clearer than perception.
and eventually can lead to a heartbreaking revelation.
that someone cherished proves that their friendship was deception.
I mustn’t be sorry for the encouragement and love I shared.
because I know what I offered was itself a dare.
A dare to let someone be a part of me…who didn’t find a reason to care.
I play a dangerous game of letting them in
For them to turn and crack my heart with bullets of steal.
Thank you for being there and for giving me a chance.
You were a ‘lucky’ someone who successfully got a part of the best of me.
Now I’ll throw away the scattered and useless pieces of you.
and have you died in a pool of regret or shall I die because of my decisions?
As we both fall with a pool of precision.
Created: May 18, 2018
Last modified: Jul 14, 2019
I sleep in the clouds, dreams in the sky,
I’ll keep dreaming as life passes me by,
I think my dreams keep me sane,
I dream of happiness, a life without pain,
Some people say I’m stuck in this place,
and I’ll never go anywhere,
But in my dreams, I’ve already been there,
I know someday I’ll have had to wake up,
but I feel the real world is more like a nightmare
I’m safe in my closed-eye wonderland
this poem goes to all the dreamers that understand
no matter what they say…
Keep your dreams but don’t
Dream your life away.
Created: 22/30/8
modifications: none
Contentment is the best malevolent in the human snatch sack of feelings.
It’s resulting from the head of obliviousness,
it dwells in the core of the visually impaired.
It shows its malevolent principle of resignation all through the body until completely oppressed by inaction.
It transforms specialists into sun leather experts, activists into office laborers, and outlaws into bookkeepers.
It places additives into the culture, it covers laws,
and it places crowns on unremarkable pioneers.
It slaps a grin over the *****, the beaten, the ignored, the racially profiled.
It quiets news projects, covers the vagrant that carries on behind places of business, and celebrates the check.
It causes the dividers of homes to appear projectile, fear, bomb,
debasement, and demise confirmation.
It permits rest around evening time; it slaughters the beasts under the bed and the apparitions in the wardrobe.
It makes a vast number of enduring individuals vanish.
It protects, “flying creatures like to be confined,” furthermore, “torment is simply important for the human condition.”
It murmurs these misguided judgments like a minister protecting his assemblage of the intensity of Jesus. Satisfaction defiles the very idea of progress.
Progress is considered in vast numbers of bits
of-paper-proprietors to be established as far as the economy.
Progress is considered by the humans who prevent us from getting back to-condition-of-nature to be established regarding control.
Progress has failed to remember its producer; similarly to kicking the bucket, elderly people fail to remember that they were once bobbed on a caring knee.
Happiness spills from the Western world
also, taint everyone around it.
At the point when you are not, at this point content
You will start to see the openings in the interwoven life; furthermore, you can’t help thinking about how it was that you hadn’t seen them.
At the point when you are not, this point, content, you will finally request a change.
Created: Oct 24, 2019,
Last modified: Jan 26, 2022, 14:52
Happiness?
I think it’s there
I know it’s there
Behind a locked door
Inside a crystal ball.
All the emotions in the world
are In one room waiting to be released
No windows or secrete entrances
Just one entry with skeletal decor.
Four guards
Two at the door
And two on the stairs
No one can pass those two pairs
Bloodstains the walls
Their breath flows with no fall
Their emotion still their
But do you even care
At this moment you’re just another empty soul
No feeling to see that this hell is an actual reality
In a room dark as night
A child sitting in her chair
The room smells of utter despair
Locked in the room guarded by infantry
She’s been in there for centuries
She banged on the door
A whisper she hears and nothing more
“Sad child what shall you do
Locked in a room wondering who”
I’m an errand boy with a mask of cinders
I have come to free you from your heartless sinners
Behind my mask is a painful sight
I still push through with all my might.
Take this mask, hide who you are
Together we can cloak who we are
Our mask is perfect:
With this blood pact, we share
We live in the crypts ready to scare
And now we crumble your hateful wits
You can’t hurt us anymore so
Now we are one and you are done.
Created: July 10, 2022,
Modified: October 7, 2022, 02:28
Once a great statue of,
strength,
Bluntness,
and Compassion
Just to be found on the peak
Destroyed and turned to rubble
All the qualities I once loved
Now unwritten from the pages
Where it was once inscribed
As the days went by I slept
And
Slept
The number of times increased
Sporadically throughout the weeks
The intention of taking my existence
And tossing it away
Every time I woke up
The pain from the recurring dreams
Would increase like a flame getting more fuel
Not even spending time with friends could
Deter me from such thoughts and pain
Only halt them but not for long