# addiction #hurt #betrayal #lust# disappointment# life # heart # truth # suffering # sadness # pain # happiness # empty # mistakes # fate # time # difference # madness # theone # learninglove #dreams # poetry # longing #prison # chained

~A Moment Like This~

 

Some people wait a lifetime
To do what i have done
I see your face and i wish i could stay
But we've both got plans the next day
This life it feels so complicated
I wish we could negotiate it
Tomorrow you'll do what you do 
I'll be alone, it's nothing new
Terrible to admit
But i know it's true
I miss you
 

Darker than Marilyn Manson

Feeling darker than Marilyn Manson 
The days get colder
And I'm only getting older
Time's passing me by
And I hate to say that I know why 
The emotions run dry
And my pain stays inside
Draining each individual vein 
As I go insane
I'm left to be broken 
My soul to be stolen 
My eyes can't see
What's right in front of me
Dying and repeatedly struck with lightning
What did I do wrong?
Why does this have to be so frightening?
I'm lying in the ocean singing your song
Just to find it wasn't meant for you all along
What can I do?
I'm torn in two 
I'm either higher than high
Or lower than low
As good as dead
As fierce as snow
A failing show
Disappear like I know you do
It's not your fault
You're locked on this default
Killing sadness 
Driven by madness
I should get out of my head
But I can't even get out of bed
Walking through Hell 
Living in a jail cell 
And the problems I face
No they can't be erased
Why won't our nonexistent God send me back to outer space?
Where my heart can see your face 
Where my pulse can race
Where I cannot be completely replaced
My solitude
It's another place
So I'll leave you with this
My life is a series of hit or miss
I used to have bliss
Now I've caught the Devil's kiss

You Mean Nothing Anymore

If its my tears you wish to see,

Then I have none to show,

If my heart you wish to crush,

Then you might as well go,

I have no tears left, 

To be shed upon your behalf,

And I promise you my wrists,

Are covered with blood and scabs,

But you will never see,

The pain that you have caused,

Because I wear my mask,

And I will never take it off,

You thought you knew me,

But all you knew was my soft side,

But when my wall is rebuilt,

You will no longer be eyed.

 

- you will be a distant heart ache -

Why are dreams taken as foolish?

The days go by without a thought or nag.

Her words run clear and gain all hope and light.

Her dreams they spread and like a bird they take flight.

Although all those see her as an old hag.

Her eyes see nature and they never see life drag.

Her life is consumed by colors so vivid and bright.

Her winter is cold but snow so sparkling and white.

Although all those see her as an old rag.

The world has eaten the dreams of many a child,

Who can glow above others that don’t understand.

Our inspiration can cause many waves of hope.

Society deems that we are crazy and wild,

but we are only holding our dreams in our hand.

With the torture you put us though, we cannot cope.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was my attempt at a sonnet.... I don't like it but you know someone else might.

M+S

I am always sad

This is driving me mad

Why must a man feel so much pain, enough to drive a sane man insane,

I been wallowing in this pain, cant remember my own name,

Is this it?, Is this the end?, If not I hope my life does not follow this trend,

I have no future, yet I will grow older, I got a new shirt, but my body stays colder

What do I do now? All I can say to myself is how,

How did this happen, why must this be, I was only 19

Now im older and im fighting just to live another day,

What do you do when the only 2 things you care about are taken away,

My symbol of friendship and my symbol of love,

Left me to be with each other said they fit like a glove,

And now Im here all alone,

Praying that the lord will turn me to stone

Or my body turns into just bone,

I am a shell of my former self,

Because of all the loss ive felt,

Nothing is the same,

All I feel is the pain

And despite the smile on my face I’ve always had

I am always sad

A Word Unspoken

Taunted from day one,

beaten and bruised,

walking in a war zone

so confused.

What did he even do wrong?

All he wanted was to belong.

But no,

that is not how it works.

Not in this day, not in the age,

not with all the words of hurt.

One step, but you didn’t do it right.

Now that step led to a fight.

First from a bully,

but then from your dad.

Why does it seem like

everyone has gone mad?

They all are crazy,

out of their mind.

Where is the love?

Why is it so hard to find?

They look at you 

all torn,

but they don’t even notice

their devil horns.

Life has left you broken,

Love’s a word unspoken.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I've gone through some crazy stuff to really put my inspiration down in this piece.

Tomorrow

Tomorrow

 

I remember dreaming, but I don’t remember what. I do remember a sound. A beep. I think I still hear it, a beep… beep. Where is it coming from? Am I dreaming? beep… beep… How do I turn it off? Beep... I feel the sunlight on my skin. Maybe, I should open my eyes now. Where am I? This isn’t my room. Oh God! What is that? Is that a heart monitor? Am I in the hospital? But… why is my Rolling Stone poster hanging on the wall?

I see my poster. I see the heart monitor. I see a desk… my desk! This is my room!

‘Carl?’

An old woman is at the door… my door. Somehow she looks familiar; too familiar. ‘Son?’ she asks and quickly approaches my bed. She looks at me ecstatic.

‘Oh my son… you are awake! I thought I lost you!’

‘Who…?’

‘Oh Carl… I’m so sorry. You had an accident. You’ve been in a coma.’

‘But… what? Oh God, are you my… mom?’

‘I know I look old’ she says and unconsciously arranges her hair ‘but well… it has been 30 years.’

OK. That’s it. I am waking up from a coma 30 years later to have a heart attack and die.

‘Calm down, Carl. Everything is going to be fine.’ Fine? How can it be fine? Oh no...

‘Where are they?’ I ask, fighting the tears in my eyes.

‘They’re fine. You will see them tomorrow. But you should get out of bed. Lord knows you’ve been there long enough. Come and eat breakfast with me.’

Before I realize it, I am downstairs with my mom. I remember her checking the machines. I remember her telling me something, but I don’t remember what. I was in shock. I’m still in shock. I remember panicking in the mirror after she left. I remember crying my eyes out. I remember being consumed with despair for all those years lost. But then I remembered tomorrow. I will see them tomorrow.

‘Margaret opened her own restaurant six years ago. We can go there tomorrow, you will love it’

‘And my baby?’

‘She is not a baby anymore, darling. She turned into a lovely woman. She comes to visit you a lot. Oh… and you should read her writing! It is as beautiful as yours. I’ll show you tomorrow.’

Suddenly she stood up. ‘Oh darling, I forgot I had an appointment. I’ll be back soon.’

I couldn’t comprehend what she was saying.

‘Sorry darling, it is really important’ she says before I can say anything, she is gone. Without a chance of saying any word, I find myself lonely and comfortless.

Time goes by quickly. I’m still sitting and for some reason I’m unable to stand up. My mind tries to slowly arrange the puzzle that once was my life. My brain can’t seem to process it all: the accident, the coma, my awakening, my mom, my grown-up daughter…

I suddenly feel an impetuous urge to capture my thoughts into paper. I need to write my ideas in order to seize them all.

And so, I rush to the nearest pen and paper. I write every single thing I can. Descriptions of the house, feelings and even all I had done since the morning. I am not sure how many pages I wrote, nor how long I sat there writing. The sound of my mom’s car outside interrupted me. I look out the window. It’s dark already. I turn to my papers. There are too many! I need to hide them, or she will think me mad! I ran towards the nearest drawer.

Oh God, how I regret choosing that drawer, for inside resides the truth. Inside reside more papers, papers with my thoughts, each one with a different date but the same story, a story of a man walking up from a coma. My story. Today’s story. Desperately, I read them all. All until I find one dated 25 years ago where the story is not today’s. Is a story of a man who had an accident, an accident that lost him his family and memories; a man that suffers anterograde amnesia.

‘I’m sorry, darling.’ I hear my mom’s voice behind me. ‘It was just too difficult. Too difficult to tell you every day what you lost.’

I turn to look at her, my mind numb ‘but… I’ll see them tomorrow?’

With her face full of sorrow, she smiles and says ‘Yes darling, you’ll see them tomorrow.’

 

 

Written by Ana Lucero and Luis Prieto

For A Desirable World

Folder: 
Satish Verma

An extreme smog descends 
on your eyes. A heavy haze envelops 
the landscape. You watch the 
world crumbling around you. 
The death was very beautiful 
thing, a moment before dying. 

Becoming activist had contributed 
towards the end; like 
targeting yourself to be hanged. 
The particulates pollution of 
depression had seeped, and 
Milky Way was asking, are you breathing? 

The fish now swims outside 
the body. Death has many colours to celebrate.

Disintegrate

As I ride down some of these streets,
I swear I get these images of you in the passenger seat.
It's dauntingly haunting how your taunting me constantly.
I'm caught up wondering if you still want me.

But just know that this road isn't as lonely as I may seem to show,
So slowly I'm lowering my guard,
Growing out of these scars.
Soon I'll reach for the stars.

I'll be reaching out for you,
Or maybe I'll be too proud to.

Either way, it's okay, cause I'll say,
"I knew I'd be strong enough for you one day."
Then you'd ask me to stay,
Honestly I don't know if I'd say okay,
But maybe we could fillet these feelings.
Tear down these low sitting ceilings.

The only thing I need to know is that life goes on.
As I sit outside over my lawn,
I gotta think if it'll be okay when you're gone?
I don't know, but I see the breaking of the dawn.

Right or wrong, black or white,
Love and war, that's what I carry that dove for. I'm sure if you ran into me now you'd be sore cause you wouldn't know if you could get your foot in the door..
Because when one closes, another one will open.
What could've been would've been great, but I can't stay around and wait..
At least not for too long cause I'll disintegrate.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I have a tattoo of a dove and grenade, adds relevancy to a line.