Our Yellow RoomWe used to talk of everything that needed to be said
when we sat under the canopy of gold rays
gorgeous declarations of adventures to be were spilt.
We were going to get married under gold lilies
and speak of vows that we wrote for each other
while friends and family loved us together.
But when I wake in the morning because I can’t sleep anymore
the bed is cold underneath me while the lights are off
my fingers reach for a being that isn’t there with me.
The bed sheets are amber like the necklace you got me
the bedroom painted in a fit of creativity that was never finished
the wonderful color usually bouncing but now it is dusty.
‘Love, it seems that I’m sick’
you announced one day as if it was news of old
‘they say that I’m not going to make it through the holiday days’.
The yellow bedroom was less than bright
on the day that you came home with news
of things that would happen and what would change.
Your skin turned pale wi
Does Death Hurt?Does death hurt?
When the knife digs into flesh
do you fall into your knees in pain
or simply in shock of motion?
When you slip away in the dark of sleep
does the dream still remain
as you travel to worlds unknown?
When the drugs hit your body
does your heart stop suddenly
or can you feel the imminent end?
When the noose slips tight
does your head feel heavy
and your limbs feel numb?
When the water rushes in
to the castle only of air
can you feel your breath cut off?
When the dirt piles over
and the air runs out
can you feel the choking?
So riddle me this,
oh master of death,
does it hurt to die?
I no longer rule the worldSeems I no longer rule the world,
grains of life slipping through
the end of the time approaching
power, unable to suppress it.
When the world needed a ruler
they turned to me and shouted 'him!'
but there was no surcease of wars
and the famine stayed in place.
And during disease and death
the people turned and said
'he was meant to cure us!'
though king I never was true.
They strung me up
and gathered the tolls
dragged me through the nation
with screams of blood on their lips.
Though I begged
my crimes bared too much sin
for when it came to society
I didn't save the world.
The floor caved in,
the rope grew taught,
my struggles heard around
till the silence reigned down.
But then the pointed
and screamed 'he will lead'
at the man who took my life
and I was left on the gallows alone.
For I no longer rule the world
and the dirt eats up my soul
the grains of time and age
make for one grievous grave.
A Carnival DelightTwo people, sewn together
more stitches bringing them together
than they ever were of conjoined twins.
A scream of horror elicited,
brought by the 'person' before her.
A thump sounded as she fainted.
Next on stage,
blood red eyes and pale skin
people cowered and hid
shielding away from his 'devils syndrome'.
Just when the audience
seemed it couldn't take anymore,
more acts joined the other on stage.
A man so small
he should have been a boy
and without a match
lit a fire like a dragon.
A girl in a cage
with eyes of panic,
contorted her body,
popping limbs and snapping bones
no one saw the tears of pain.
A man who more snake than human,
a mans torso there but a snake tail.
He watched with unmoving eyes
for where should have been life and love
there was just emptiness inside.
The Ringmaster sings
to the rhythm of the people
cheers and smiles of city and town.
A tip of the hat,
smiles of the crowd.
There's nothing more
than the scent of popcorn
and the laughter of children.
All too soon th
PassionFor when the daughter experiences a first
it is the passion she feels in the night.
For when the innocent is murdered against reason
it is the cry of a nation that can’t understand.
For when the son disturbs the peace of a day
it is the rage of parents that calm his youth.
For when the music carries upon the floor
it is the color of the dress the darling wears.
For when the veil drops and all is revealed
it is the pain of truth that becomes clear.
For when the last moment is seen
it is the suffering in the eyes that shows all.
For when the child breaks the toys they cherish so
it is the shade their face turns in anger.
For when the people call for devotion
it is the color that speaks for their cries.
For when the people make for a revolution
it is the red that stains the ground eternally.
Because when the people need a reason
it is the stain of a nation that botch the pure history.
Wake up loveHush now,
I'm sorry the dream must end.
It's time to wake up
and face the world.
Reality is harsh,
the people are cold,
that's how it is
and you must wake up.
For you have been asleep long enough.
Time to wake love,
and be with your people
they wait for you
and have never given up.
You can't let them down.
The alarm's going off,
and reality is waiting.
You are only human
and cannot do much
but everyone is important
and life is waiting just for you.
Can you hear their cries?
And the bellows of pain?
You can stop them
but only if you wake up.
It's time to wake up love,
and face the world.
They cry for your return
and you can't let them down.
HomeThis is home
where there are white walls
and doors that open from the outside.
This is home
where a jacket
holds one in place.
This is home
where an injection of whiteness
into the arms is normal.
This is home
where shock is common
and not treated enough.
This is home
where white skin
is never sun kissed.
This is home
where family doesn’t care
enough to visit or cry.
This is home
where bloodless administrators
deem themselves ‘help’.
This is my home
and I cannot leave.
The Crow is Watching YouThe wind used to whisper things to me; even in the dead of night it would come forth, spewing its single phrase of nonsense words that never made sense. For there never had to be enough wind, there never had to be a cold night, whenever there was a doubt, the wind would answer the call.
'The crow is watching you'
Simple phrase, the five words forming together to make a concrete sentence. Yet a crow was never seen through the eyes. The call was heard when silence was too thick, the clatter and clicks of claws would appear when the world was too peaceful, and the rustle of feathers would overpower the escalades of society. The wind needed to take its rests, and the sounds of the crow would take its place.
'The crow is watching you'
The wind would return, because the pitter and patter of the crows could be ignored over time. The wind would whisper down the spine, saying its lowly sentence of haunting. Ridding its host of the familiarity of life, the honorable afflictions tha
Turbulence: In My HeadI can never let anyone know.
About the burning, raging, screaming self-hatred that rips through my mind, my heart, my hollow void where the soul that I never had once was...
I shall never allow anybody to find out.
But that matter is of no concern, for they never will find out.
Thanks to my utter lack of volition for such purposes, or for any purpose for that matter.... for purpose period.
I half-whisper to myself... 'I hate me... I want to kill me... I deserve to be hurt...'
GASH! TEAR! SCREEEEAAAAAAM!
All inside the head. There are no such gashes on the surface to make evident such activity as is underneath.
Only steaming hot tears that will sizzle away as evaporation all too soon...
I close the door to my bedroom. On my bed, my animal perks up, highly animated bugger that it is, and softly growls out as in question.
I breathe in a whiff of the animal's fur and it moves out of my space. So I can ache there from my inner gashes in peace.
It was mere sco
Wake me up whenWake me up, when crying is only for those moments that are unbearably beautiful.
Wake me up, when helping someone else, is done genuinely and joyfully.
Wake me up, when society becomes less interested in falsities and more aware of truth.
Wake me up, when equality is real, apparent, strong and inevitable.
Wake me up, when children's innocence is untainted with maturity.
Wake me up, when control is dead and freedom roams wildly.
Wake me up, when poverty only exists in bad decisions.
Wake me up, when money is last, on the peoples to get list.
Wake me up, when power belongs to us, and not the self-proclaimed.
Wake me up, when we heal the earth from our selfishly inflicted lacerations.
Wake me up, when respect is our international anthem.
Wake me up, when love is all we know, and fear is suffocated by it.
Wake me up, when strength is nurtured and weakness buried.
Wake me up, when beauty is appreciated for all its imperfections.
Wake me up, when conformity is drowning in an ocean of imagina
Nobody has the answers
But everybody has the Y’s.
Speculations of a faultless green pasture,
Based on a line of best fit that was drawn to lie.
The solution is a sequence of random numbers and dates.
In addition to a complicated sum of love, grief, fear and hate.
Which form a unique equation that can never be revealed.
It’s the only bit of ignorance that still remains concealed.
Even though we may feel defenseless.
The possibilities are endless.
The opportunities are relentless.
Opinions become senseless
And still we lie restless.
Attempting to solve the unsolvable
And control the uncontrollable.
To know the unknowable.
The Wishing TreeTraveling along a concrete road
until the pavement turned to grass
and the grass turned to dirt.
Just when the land turned barren and bland
an abandoned park stood rusty and proud.
Little Jessica walked along that dirt path
not minding the hot sun
or how her backpack got heavier with every step.
When she finally reached
that abandoned park
Little Jessica played in the slide
and swung on the swings
that creaked with every rock.
She bored soon and left
that barren park
going to the one sign of life
A sorrowful tree, with no leaves left
stood near that abandoned park.
Little Jessica, feet scuffing the dirt
went to this poor alone tree.
From her backpack, Little Jessica
pulled paper upon paper out.
With bits of string and tiny fingers
Little Jessica attached every single strip of paper
to the branches of that leafless tree
as high and far as she could reach
until the dry branches could no longer be seen.
When she was done
Little Jessica surveyed her work,
proud of the job
and broken seams.
Cries in the night
as life becomes a fight
there's just no more light.
Men are trying,
women are running
children are crying
people are dying.
Let's go, he whispered.
I-It's dangerous, she stuttered.
But we can't just stay, they uttered.
Chaos roams the streets
and blood's on the ground like treats.
Dystopia never ends
as society bends.
Life shall be dystopia
and never a utopia.
scraps and sacramentsyou,
beautiful siren girl with melodies
entangled in her hair: you are
shell-shocked and sea-struck
even though you cannot stand
the sensation of sand beneath
you have fingers for prying, picking,
pulling at your skin and nesting
in that hollow space between
your bones. and if anyone asks,
you will swear there are monsters
sleeping in the concaves of your ribs;
there are ghosts beneath your tongue,
embittered, and you are not the words
they say there is an answer, little girl
(sometimes you begin to believe you are
a scarecrow on the border of reality
begging people to turn the other way;
and the mirror will agree)
how far have you gone? a feather in
the breeze who won’t promise to return
again; there is a wandering warmth in
the hesitation of your harbored fear.
where will you be in six months when
the future has become itself and you
are still astray? little one, no one is like you
in the way you sway to the cadence of a
dissonant night. no one knows your
Blood Stained VanityAlone,
Shaking calmly in a cold sweat,
Cross legged on bed, head in hands,
A stuttered breath:
Nails begin scraping flesh and bone,
Hair tearing to get at the thoughts,
Biting lip to bear the pain, and stop the tears,
Yet a part wants it to continue,
Wants it to grow,
Until there’s nothing left.
In the dark sat in utter loathe,
Blood stained vanity and silent screams,
Tearing mind from inside out,
Until it shows upon flesh.
Breaking words only to self,
No desire to burden others,
Facing it alone,
Or at least,
Apologies to all of caring heart,
Inner conflict never a quick war,
Peace though found in your comfort,
Great peace, and happiness,
A resolution only found in self,
And until it is and mind settled,
Nights of terror and pain will sadly occur.
The things I Never tell youWhy is it that I never ask you for money or anything else for that matters?
You ask me but somehow I think you already know the answer.
I know about the economic state we're in and I know how broken
you are inside. Even if you try to hide it behind a smile I can see
how false it is.
(That's why I try to cover up when
I'm out of medicine because if you
don't know you don't have to worry
about the money to getting more...
That's why I often smuggle back
the money from my student grant
back into your pockets when you don't see.)
Why is it that I never tell you about my problems and ask for help?
Because I know you have enough problems of your own to be able
to deal with mine.
(and inside I'm afraid that if i told you,
i would be seen as too big burden to carry
for your already worn out shoulders,
and be tossed aside to make it easier for
you to carry on.
After all, I'm just the failed leftover of the
hopes you carried for me)
And if I sometimes asked you for anything more th
STOMPStaggered steps cause the earth
To shake under a vast girth
Ominous rain, light, fire, and fear
Monsters running for the next tier
Poetic deaths to fuel whimsical mirth
Yesterday Was 100 Years AgoWhat I wouldn't give to have last year back...
If only for one day.
Have the laughs I had, and not be racked
By the pain and loneliness from a lifetime away.
What I wouldn't give to try again,
To listen and understand.
Better stories and pictures to remind me of my friends.
To be back as we'd began.
My Scars from LifeI feel the scars
on my soul
will never fade away.
The cut are so deep
that they won't ever heal.
The wounds are from battle
with myself and others
And from carrying burdens
I was not meant to carry.
What has the world done to me?
Why has it scarred me this way?
What scars did you contribute?
Slowly DyingI want to tell you, that I like you,
but I can't, you seem confused about your own wishes,
I try to help you,
but you give up so fast,
I want best for you,
but you won't let me close enough,
I care so much for you,
when I can't do much to help you,
I feel useless, I don't like myself anymore.
All I want to do is to make you happy and loved.
If only you knew how much I care...if tears could explain...
I can't do this anymore, at this point death seems like a solution.
Alone, Never AgainAlone
Wandering through the fog
with no light
I see a glow
Far away, faint
but it comes closer
and, holding the light, I see,
Club NoirOne of the neon letters
doesn´t work anymore
It´s flickering like her glance
Legs crossed insinuatingly
on the cheap white barstool
as cheap as this smile
stuck on her face
Stubbing out the cigarette
she blows the smoke in my face
Don´t be tricked!
at these places you´ve to be careful
sometimes words go wrong pathways
and you never know
with whom you´re doing business
It´s the world of silent smokers
of dancers to bullet-rain
of the bass rhythm crying tears
of yesterday´s nights
In this circus of lust and sadness
Screen of glamour and illusion
Masked ball of desire and loneliness
It´s the world of back door conversations
where you can lose your innocence
in a bottle of red wine
or in the eyes of the pianist
It´s the stage of arts
It´s the gloomy back side
It´s the Club Noir
She licks her lips
they look like velvet but they´re
too red to be serious
so I´m ready to say goodbye before
Parchment and PensIn this parchment dream I reside,
My worries and cares, all cast aside;
No one can judge me, no one can see
This girl, this curiousity,
This spirit that lives inside of me.
Perhaps she's a bit conspicuous;
Some might dare to call her "odd".
But beautiful she is just the same,
The girl who shares my dreams, my name.
I think we are different,
But perhaps we are one.
We live by our words, by the ink, by the tongue,
Embracing those memories of when we were young,
The friends that we knew and the songs that we sung.
Parchment and pens are what brought us together,
And bound by this love, we shall remain forever.
Change: MyselfYou gave me sweet gifts
On Valentine’s Day.
You gave me cosmetics
On my birthday
Told me it’s good to try new things.
Started to force your opinions on me
Wanted me to let my hair down
Made me trade my hoods with straps
Asked me to try mini skirts
For a change.
I hated chocolate.
I never wear makeup.
I hated baring my skin.
Skirts don’t suit me.
You wanted me to change.
But there is more than just appearances.
And it is time you know…
I would never change myself
If you really loved me
You’d like me for myself.
You wanted to manipulate me.
So go get a doll instead.
I’m telling you,
Right here, right now.
If I changed who I am,
It’ll be for my sake,
Beauty is only skin deep.
Don't Die On MePeople tell us that we are weak
They don't know what we've been through
So if they can finally see
What we've been through
They would surely change their minds
The words "don't die on me"
Bring back horrid memories
I don't want to wish
I don't want to scream
But I wish you were part of me
So tell me how you feel
Cause I want to know the truth
So don't die on me
She was on her back
Whimpering in pain
Nothing could ever prepare us for this
But we knew that she was losing to death
Will you ever be able to tell her friends
How she died
"Don't die on me" the healers uttered
"Don't die on me"
You whispered to your lover
As she took her last breath
I found it hard to watch
But it's never easy
To see someone who you love die
When will I ever get to see
Why I'm in this fight
With a man with monstrous strength
This will never end until one of us has dies
And I can hear someone say
"Don't die on me"
I blink as my world explodes in pain
I look at the sword sticking out of my chest
I wonder how it