Monday, February 22, 2010

what will you know?
I wear blasphemy like a fashion. I don't support it or worship it. It fits me well and sometimes it embarrasses me. I learn from it's ignorance but I keep going and going to find it all. There's a little bit of hypocrisy but I envelop it in heartfelt hugs.
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Monday, February 8, 2010

The thorns always cut my legs as I cross straight through the groves and pass the fences that are barbed. The sun is always bothersome and the night is always bright. The thirst always haunts me like a sickness as the breeze is sweet. The jagged rocks always give smooth cuts with perfect warmth from the flowing blood. It is tense and it burns with scorn and afraid of love I do belong, gentle steps. The tracks I imprint into the dirt are the last and not erased, the soul left red. It comes from my soul you would never know; it is something I have that no one else does. Whispers softly "please come close to me," your presence strikes me and I want to know. The wind flows right through my soul as it is on the outside and not inside. I don't believe in God; I don't have to believe because I know that there is one. Even the method that science uses is based on spontaneous creation. Even though we are dead and the dead live I am more awake then those who have seen the other side and come back. Not to make and to see those mistakes is the idea. I will do and not try because it is all easy to go and to follow.
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Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Bruja`
So, it could be true artists are first to predict the future. It was just a saying at first then it became a reality, saw the blood first then bled.
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Monday, January 11, 2010

Blood Clot
Do you even care about the blood that runs through my veins to and through my heart? If you do, surely you'll help me heal this cuts I've made on my wrist. The cuts are fresh and so is your hurt. Together with trust we'll wait this out, for the blood to clot. Well, I'll live if I'm lucky enough. The cool wind hits my face, I'm laying on the floor, the wind covers me with leaves, the ice makes me shiver, the blood is making a painting on the ice. I'm wondering if you care enough to search me out and seek me. After so many days I've spent with the door shut laying on my bed crying, I've built the strength to grab the knife. I've made the courage to cut right through the middle let me drown in the river now, now , now. Just watch me fall flow down down and to my death. I'm nothing but water and I've reached the sea. So many souls await for me there only to come back to come back into the earth. Coma and all it's here my blood is gone and won't clot. Hold my hand my cold dying hand. Hold it until the end. The happiness you've given me I'll cherish it wherever I go. You were the only one that ever made me feel so strong so much passion. But, more than all you were the only one that made me feel true happiness. I cried out all my blood for you. You've heard me before, my final breath here now goes. Breathes out.
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Thursday, January 7, 2010

The Middle
The end may not be in my favor but neither is the middle. So, I'll take the chance to follow it through to feel it course through me. The power that's within will shine out to overtake whatever crosses my path. Nothing will stop me.
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Sunday, December 13, 2009

Warmth
Hey, don't leave my life,
I really want you to stay in it.
The walls are so gray with red cheer.
You make me smile and I'm here with the walls of my life just surrounding me. So I tell you I'm not one of them and you really trust my words like the law trusts the land. I'm real though unlike all these made up rules that can all burn into smoke. I'll burn into ash my love. I'll always be there from the beginning to the end made of silk so warm made of salt an advantage taker. My eyes are rocky brown deep like brown tiger's eyes. Mystic your lips the color of alchemy under lipstick. I'm begging to stay so never leave the winter is outside blowing its chill inside. Close the door before we freeze away and die together.
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Tuesday, November 17, 2009

White Roses
The light shines right through the window,
the light touches my face and I open my eyes.
I put on shoes and walk towards the anxious door,
down the hall until I'm outside.
I see my rose garden and I walk over it and I only hope, that you'd be there standing in the middle of it all.
In routine I cry enough tears to feed my white roses into a blossom.
The liquid travels down my cheeks then dampening the ground black creating a life for such beauty.
I'm tired of doing this every time the sun rises, I stand like an Owl in the night with big teary eyes frozen still waiting to kill a mouse.
I'm sick of being dead so I wonder when It'll be my turn to blossom into life.
I hate the memory of you just like the sounds of sirens in a silent night.
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Thursday, November 12, 2009

Autumn Cheat
Like the leaves in autumn I fell into the shady building. A sight of concern came over her friendly face. It struck me in chest like a golf ball sized piece of hail. She stared at me as silent as December snow which I broke like a coin thrown into the fountain water. I quickly made a wish though inside my mind I knew the news was sad like a flower missing its petals. I said "hi" and she seemed to smile like she was hiding a hell of guilt. Told me she was in love even though her boyfriend was a cheat. I took her in my arms like a loving mother does her child. I held her and swayed like a palm by the sea.
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Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Unpopular Love
The wind brushes your hair as you spend your time staring back at the distance where somewhere in the horizon your hometown is lying under heavy clouds of smog. Pollution so brown and beautiful under the orange sun, you miss it so much, you are my love whose eyes are honey brown. You stare at me from so far but I feel it deep inside my heart as it pierces through, I feel my insides melt to create a hole where I place my palm over and pledge to one day go to you and change this variable called distance. Remember those times when we used to be able to touch each others lips with ours? Now you can only pretend and so can I because in our loneliness our half conscious minds find company in each others arms. I run my hand through your hair while you tightly hold me. I want to hold your hand forever but you're too far away and the wind carries you back to where you first stared.
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Monday, November 2, 2009

Random
I wonder where that hoodie is... the one in the picture... lol

anyways i did plan to put something here:

Title: His Childhood Not Mine

Every single day I'd walk by his house and see the poor child playing with dirt and pieces of glass.
Shiny pretty glass mostly always green like an emerald and I'm sure he knew it was dangerous from the way he held it in his hand. He drew pictures on the ground making images on the sand and I'd always go see what he drew on my way back after I passed by the second time. He was a kid whom I was very closely related to but I never really saw him as much part of my family as anyone else in my family. I was the only one who'd ask him what he would draw.

With interaction between us only being about what he drew it eventually evolved into something less social and he was a pacifistic type of kid. He'd usually ask me why people didn't get along at school and how heated conflicts were like when water boils it keeps steaming until you turn the fire off. He told me the fire never stops in real life and that it burns even through the sturdiest metals. I could never really answer his question but somehow I believed that he knew violence wasn't needed to be alive.

That's not what ended his life though and what seemed to be an alright life ended in a total ironic way. He was very patient and anyone respected him except a few ignorant people. He was smart but as smart as he was he also knew how to be strong and fight. What seemed to be endless patience was broken one day in school and he found out how great it feels to cool down stress beating down on his enemies.

His enemies were new to this because he never really did anything this disrespectful so they never stopped some became obsessed and secretly wished to be the ones to defeat him in a fight. Then that day came when I saw him leave his house and he passed me on the way to school and looked into my eyes and told me to be happy at his funeral. So solemn his words were but I kept going because his nature had always been dark. I wasn't concerned because I've been distant from humans all my life so I couldn't understand his words.

What they meant were not really what I wanted. With spirit he fought with pride he died. Broken bones and pools of blood have to do with this all and I was able to see. The morning sun turned red in his sight and his life faded away in front of him.

I was able to smile in his funeral because what seemed so innocent was a sin. I can only wonder how fair God is and how much I'll have to pay for his death.
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