multiple personality

Parade of Despair

Through the wet and rainy streets,
Cloaked in the liar's contacts. and bloody sheets
You know not of where you go,
But the blood you walk over and sew.

In this time, you believe you are okay,
Okay with murder that goes throughout the day
Through the homeless cries and terror
It's not your life or your own error

What's another's heart to hold in your hand mean?
If it doesn't give you the satisfaction and the attention of a queen?
Maybe somewhere, within your sickest dreams
Perhaps piercing the thickness, you can hear humanity screams
and in some part of your mind you care,
Or fail again, laughing maniacally as the blood drips in cold despair

Somehow, their commotion to you is entertaining
The bickering and troubles all the more sustaining
and yet somewhere, deep down, you realize it's not right.
But the sickness blinds you again, back again in the fright

Morality is like your brother, inside your mind, telling you it's wrong
But your voice cries out more louder, constantly crying, "But do I belong?"
and the shadow creeps in control of your hands and strikes again,
Like an old friend you've parted with that was poison, comes back attempting to explain

They say you are fine and you will be okay.
Like you say, except you are actually mentally astray
As the hand of sickness inside your mind plans out the next move
In reality you are empty, she says you have nothing to prove

The disgusting woman that is called society
Bringing forth what you tell others is anxiety
She holds you tight, like a incoherent mother
Whispering to you as she smothers you "There is no other"

Somehow throughout all that you have, depression calls,
Your father, comes to tell you "Despite the beautiful colors, you live within empty walls"
You cry for them to stop speaking
But they stop for none, they continue their horrid shrieking

As you fall to the ground, you try to escape by sleeping,
But it's only for a few hours, and time is weeping
You try to deny the things that you have mean and done
You salute to the cracked, and broken blurred skies of failure, and with it a black sun
Forever bringing a slanted shadow, that was once you, pleading "Bring me back, this wasn't really fun"

You yearn for something deep down, but without purpose for some reason
and your faces change again and again, like the months and the season
You know not anymore of what the world means to you
Forever alone you will be, cursed, trapped in your built igloo.

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*Fugue

Folder: 
Filipino poems

 

Marso otso, dalawang libo at pito:

 

Ang itim na panyo

na katerno ng itim na damit

ay hindi maiwalay ng mga kamay

sa lumuluhang pinid na mga mata.

 

Napapagod:

sa ingay ng iyakan,

sa tunog ng lupang dinadakot

at itinatapon

upang ikaw ay ilibing,

sa mga gunita

ng iyong bisig,

ng iyong halik.

 

Nakasisinok isipin

ang pag-iisang haharapin.

 

Dagling pinihit ang katawan

at nakipagunahan

sa malayang hangin

palayo sa hukay

ng sakit.


Sa gusaling tulugan

ng mga manlalakbay nanahan

at isinakatuparan

ang pagpupumiglas sa kaloobang

kay tagal ikinadena

ng karuwagan.


Itinapon

ang nagluluksang kasuotan.

Nagliwaliw.

Nagsaya.


At gabi-gabi,

sa harap ng maamong salamin

pinupuri ang tapang

ng mga pulang damit.


Marahang pumipikit

at kinumbinsi ang isip,


Ako ang kapalit ng katotohanan.

 

Mulat at gulat.

May pulang panyo

na katerno ng damit na hapit,

nakalaylay sa kamay.

 

Nabibingi

sa katahimikan;

sa nawawalang tunog

ng lupang dinadakot.

 

Dagling pumihit.

Isang salaming bintana

ang nakadipa

sa dingding

at kinukumutan

ng kurtinang puti.

 

Isang lampara

ang nagbibigay liwanag

sa nag-iisang unan

na nakahiga sa kama.

Isang piping telebisyon.

 

Humiyaw

ang isang orasan

na may tala-arawan.

 

Tulirong tinitigan ang tala-arawan.

Nangatal ang katawan.

Ang petsa na napagtanto'y:

 

Marso disi-otso, dalawang libo at pito.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

• isang estado ng pag-iisip kung saan nawawalay ang persona, alaala at ugali ng isang maykatawan at nakabubuo siya ng iba pang pagkatao o persona. Kadalasan, inaakala ng may katawan na nakatulog lamang s'ya. Ito ay kadalasang pagtakas ng isip sa mga mapapait na karanasan.

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