To have and to hold (written in drafts fall 2019)
Light dew after a thunderstorm, blood staining the fingertips of a pin-pricked little girl.
She’s hurt, she knows that, but she doesn’t mind.
In fact, the stinging complements the ringing in her ears from all the ‘sorrys’ she got today.
Strangers in her home, with bleary eyes and sad smiles.
A sea of black formalwear, she’s a pale-faced ghost floating from place to place, putting on the show.
But she feels nothing, empty.
They watch her with careful and cautious precision,
waiting for her to break.
Such a young girl, she should be crying from the loss of her brother, her best friend.
She’s just putting on the brave face for the company, they whisper.
But she feels nothing, empty.
She runs her thumb along the dried blood on the broken mirror in front of her,
gazing from her hand to the shards she exposed earlier.
They tell her that he loved her. Loved, as if she didn’t already know that.
She loves him too. She will continue to love him too. Forever.
For the most beautiful things in the world, are also the most painful
And to love something is to fear ever losing it.
Letters to you (P.1) - The path to kismet (Dec 2020-Jan 2021)
Tell me everything.
Let your breath paint words on paper,
spilling your doubts, we’ll bear the burden of life together.
Let my hands be yours to guide the sword we wield as one,
sharing the triumphs, the slaying of dragons and demons.
We’ll armor our bodies with the security of another.
Let me know your heart and soul as if it is my own.
I want to know how the blood pumps through your veins
and how you make it through the day.
Take my terrified heart out of my clenched fists, I’ll forgive you for a kiss.
Grasp my tired shoulders, we’ll no longer bear the anxiety and anguish alone.
You’ll heal my scars with gentle delicacy, I’ll bandage your bleeding skin.
You’ve casted and carried this broken body long enough.
Tell me how your feet sing for the destination of your dreams,
watch me dance with my fingers and my mind.
Share your hopes with your eyes,
follow me, guide me, lead me, hold me
Tell me about your journey, past, to this moment, through our future.
Speak your thoughts, I want to know it all.
The good, the bad, and the uncomfortable.
Define our love with your hands and skin.
Light a spark, ignite a flame inside my dark mind,
cloud my ugly days with your rain.
We’ll shelter and watch the storm pass through.
For there is only so many sunrises, and I want to be with you for them all.
Take your words, your art, our love, and craft the story.
Breathe your words into a letter, bare yourself to me.
And tell me everything.
Hardest Parts (written in drafts in 2018?)
Broken beliefs and memories
of all the little nightmares we thought were the new reality.
They lied to us, but who are they?
The monsters under our childhood beds?
the monsters in our daily lives?
Are they one of the same?
They whisper in our ears all the petty things that they know will hurt you,
just to bring you pain.
They know that if they destroy you, they can do it again
because you succumb to the madness and then fight the already lost battle.
You know the agony too well, but you cling to the delusion of a sense of hope in the silliest of things.
You are barely surviving the shattering of everything you hold dear, but you play it off with false laughter and the deception of what’s really happening.
You just can’t handle it.
You live in the chaos of massacred dreams.
You don’t know what to do, so you struggle, putting on the masks and faces of many roles, waiting to find the perfect fit
As if performing a role and creating a new character will solve your problems.
Avoiding who you are will not fix anything.
You have bled your soul into everything and it is still not enough
For anyone
For anything
For yourself.
The world tells you who you’re suppose to be, but you fight it because you can’t.
You can’t play the charade that they call for.
You don’t have time, there is no limitless life.
There is no cookie cutting, or just cutting corners.
You are yourself, but you are theirs to own.
We come into this world not understanding that,
that we are slaves to a higher empire.
We are one of a mass and not special.
We are individual but not different.
We are put down as just another statistic in the sadist universe.
There is no space for intolerance.
So, you live.
You breathe.
You exist and that is all you are meant to do.
There is no single isolation but there also is no stage.
You are not an actor of yourself or another.
You just simply....be.
How to love your feelings (Part 2-Jan 2021)
His fingertips, like icicles on my skin,
tracing my face with the delicacy of simple emotion.
Like glass he’s afraid to shatter, he hesistates on my cheek,
padding my freckles with his calluses.
He draws lines across my bumps and bruises with a tender cautiousness,
his eyes following my blush, brushing my lips with his nervous gaze
before dodging my stare.
His scan meets mine with wonderment,
like it’s the first time he’s ever really seen me.
His endearing eyes follow a single finger as he lightly runs it over a tangled curl,
fixating on its springing motion.
My fascination falls to his mouth with the same curious thoughts.
‘Will he do it?’ I think, willing my fortune on him.
I’m impatient.
He leans towards me with stilled breath and I freeze.
He touches another one of my loose curls, making it leap into my line of vision.
I let out a sigh of anxiety. We’re so close, I can feel the electric shocks.
If only he would...
shut me up.
A girl in the seven stars (03/2020)
She danced in the rain at midnight, whispering her sorrows to the clouds,
breathing in the dew of a thousand souls, the lifeforce of everything
as it fell like a million shooting stars.
She danced in the rain at midnight, releasing all her love and tragedies
to the moon, her only source of light in the world of dark.
She danced in the rain at midnight to muffle the sound of her misfortunes with carelessly placed steps and the splashing of collected puddles of her tears.
She danced in the rain at midnight, again and again, and forgot about everything else.
She danced in the rain at midnight, barefoot and beautiful, a silent smile creeping onto her face as the thunder rolled through.
She danced in the lightning at midnight, ignoring all logic and time, spiraling her body into the depth of the puddles, through her splashing tears.
She danced in the lightning at midnight, taking peace in the noise, and solistice in the slivers of silver light, two strikes like her luck in finding a storm to wield her pain.
She danced in the rain at midnight; soaked, but stunning.
She danced in the rain through the night,
and by chance, she found the will to carry on.
Soulless Vampire
The ache is always there, evermore prominent in the dead silence of the night.
It's my constant companion, along with loss and regret.
It calls to the man who knew of my fragile soul, but then mishandled it anyways.
He dropped it without a second of remorse.
He looked me dead in the eyes, and just shrugged.
Yet my heart still yearned for him, weeping in its weakness.
It's not broken, it's shattered.
A puzzle without all its pieces can never be entirely complete.
He's chasing another, a lady of the night, ignoring the whispers from my being.
Like a soulless vampire, chasing his next conquest.
He lives on with no shame in his existence,
and I'm left here, drained of the very essence of my reality,
trying to patch up the holes in my body with a band-aid.
But I know, and he knows, I'm now the monster of my own nightmares.
He's changed me. The air has escaped my lungs, but I'm no longer struggling.
My heart has stopped wasting the effort.
I shrug in the silence that was once filled with my pulse, my eyes blank.
It won't be long before I destroy someone else too.
The Jealous Bridesmaid
I should have kissed you while I had the chance,
for the next moment you were gone with the wind.
I should have kissed you before you had left me,
because then I wouldn't be hanging on to the "what-ifs."
I should have kissed you past all the fears and doubts
because then it would've been more than just a dream, but a taste, a touch, a memory.
I should have kissed you that day a long, long time ago,
because maybe I wouldn't be here, staring at you, so beautiful on your wedding day.
I should have kissed you. I should have.
Because then maybe you would have been my wife,
instead of my brothers.
The Narrators
Souls are dipped in stories, dripping the wisdom of a thousand lives.
One: It was once disbursed to billion little places, displaced on an aging Earth, searching for its lost lovers like someone traveling the journey home.
Two: It's not halved, but two parts cling like magnets to one another, through the storms and the hardship and even through death.
Three are the lives of the broken shards, given away to others too soon. Not every piece is part of the same mirror.
Four are the forces of every existence. Life vs. Death, Air vs Earth, Fire vs Water. Spirit vs Object. The way the world balances out every being is with another equally opposite.
Five are the senses. Taste, Touch, Smell, See, and Feel. The energies that flow through every shred of being out there.
Zero and Infinity are the times with which we have to experience these things. For we are alive every moment until we die and live again. The incarnations of every reality ever created, every story that's been told or will be told.
We are the narrators of every challenge overcome, and every defeat. We are everything, and nothing at all. We are the past, the present, the future, and beyond.
We are those very souls, forever all over again.
Beauty is a ghost
The price of being found, is having to be lost in the first place
Beauty is a ghost, dense in the air, clouding the mind.
It seizes control, sharp pains strike the heart flatly, til your body is hollow.
As veins pump endlessly, dripping blood from your self inflicted wounds.
Your skin and halved soul are rejecting any will to live.
Until you feel feathering touches dancing on you, dampening you with their tears.
There's a whisper in your ear from beyond
Hold on
There's a beep, then another. A room of white lights, the air is cold on your skin.
You weren't breathing, then you were. They said you were caught, just in time.
So you didn't taste the flames of hell on your skin then? Huh.
Something squeezes your hand, pinching the nerves, numbing you throughout.
You're alive, and you don't know how to feel.
You can see the sadness in their eyes, as if you're a disappointment.
Guilt is lurking in the shadows, a Grim Reaper waiting its turn.
You couldn't even do this right.
They ask you things that you can't answer, then silence weights on your chest.
Then, all at once, it's loud, so very loud. You're screaming, your mind convulsing with millions of thoughts at once.
Your best friend fell and he isn't breathing.
They tried, and tried again. He's gone, they say. Unexpected causes.
You can't breathe again. It's like the world is trying to suffocate you.
Everyone leaves and you stare at the dead body, your soul carrying you to it's counterpart.
You reach out to touch his pale skin, hoping it's not real, that this is just a nightmare,
but your eyes catch a flicker of movement.
There's a man, so translucent and shaded, floating in the corner, watching it all happen.
You see a flicker of a smile. He waves.
You blink, and he's gone.
The room is buzzing. "Thank the universe you're awake."
I hear those words like a sweet melody.
He's there, holding my hand, and not gone.
It's silent for a moment as we stare into each others eyes.
"It's okay." He whispers, and I tighten my grip.
Then, I smile.
The Beast in the Beauty
Tears, fears, anger
An outburst of flames and fire in a hailing frosty storm
She’s drenched in the masses of water and blood, weighted down by her fury and guilt.
Why me? She thinks. Why him?
Her face is stained with shock, and her body tattooed with disbelief.
She can no longer picture the future, especially one without him.
She’s tempted by her own hands of fate to end it with a carefully placed blade of sorrow.
She mourns the hollow aching in her heart. She can’t replace that empty feeling, it simply doesn’t go away.
But the heaviness, it threatens to collapse her very being
Or what’s left of it.
The rain, hail, sleet
It’s hard to see through.
The darkened skies hide what use to be flooded with sunlight. What was once air is now suffocating and breathless.
It’s not just that she can’t breathe, it’s that she doesn’t want to.
She doesn’t want to continue living without her knight to tame the beast.