Humans Are…
Scum.
You judge women with a single number,
and that’s why I’m locked up in my room.
Tell me, I wonder
How your filthy words scrawled out our doom?
Because your lies and dirty tricks are a blunder,
And forsake the inner gloom,
For how you relinquish your assets
Makes me want to burn you to ashes.
I would let you know
How I used to glow,
But those memories don’t go
They haunt me like devilish crows.
You say I use
But I am the one who faced abuse
Due to your incapability to choose,
I’m left to run and bellow my blues.
There’s a lot of things to say,
But I would never give your secrets away,
For infatuation gave us a celebration,
As if we could conquer the nation.
They say words that sting my eyes,
The kind that opens wounds and whisper goodbyes.
Tell me, I wonder,
How your sole wish is to ruin others’ lives.
They sear the skies like thunder,
Reminding me how our relationship has no archives.
You say your sorrows pile like the morning light
But you are responsible for your ultimate plight.
—
Genuine.
The spark dissipates from her copper seared eyes as she opens them. She is consumed by darkness, her limbs paralyzed while her eyes desperately seek freedom.
Among the crisp blackness rises a tender flame in the distance; he inches towards her. An orange silhouette of a man reaches toward her and caresses her cheek. It burns. She screams. There is no sound.
More figures, all of different shapes and sizes, arise and move toward her, each languishing every step. They circle around her. The lights flood the darkness. It burns. She screams. There is no sound.
Among these rises a white figure, whose smile forces all other colors to flee. The colored figures merge into this superior being. The space is now occupied by a succulent light. His eyes, bright wisps, leave a trail of white ashes as he circles around her. It burns. She screams. There is no sound.
Copper tears cease to fall as she closes her eyes. She is consumed by this light, her clarity restricted by her own person. She is no longer who she used to be. She is now “free.”
—
Suffocated.
I am but a leaf in the desolate sea, adrift among the turbulent tides. When one is first conceived, one is but a seed. This particular seed may fester in anguish, or thrive among the remarkable. Nevertheless, it proceeds to root itself and create colorful hands, bejeweled with trinkets beyond imagination. Among these, there is but one leaf; it had no intention of being this way, nor did it mean to deteriorate before its development. Nevertheless, it detached itself from its spawn and was stolen by whimpering whispers. It was carried to the sun, inches from the light’s grasp. It was then slammed towards uncharted waters. Floating among the dried tears and cascading sorrows, it plants itself the middle of a dark sea, ignorant of its disruption. Upon impact, its entity obliterated tranquility; rambunctious ripples morph into jagged daggers, gnashing against all forces. It spreads. Its pandemonium ponders off into the distance, maintaining its target. Although these forces eventually falter, the leaf is stranded, desolate, and desperate for a breath.
—
Augmented.
Betrayal is such a succulent sin. Isn’t it interesting how condescending the seeds of hatred can sprout? Or how fate inevitably leads to this madness? A lie can sprout into eternal flames, scorching the beholder and disintegrating the receiver. One might be certain of the truth, but one must always question its authenticity. Authenticity, is that not but a confirmation of truth? Quite bluntly, it is more than truth itself. You see, truth is subjective to the mind; we determine what we accept. As there is truth in facts, there are fallacies in the forces which shroud “truth.” Truth is inevitable, but lies stain the soul for eternity.
—
Enthralling.
It was the way you smiled, how your face brightened as your eyes shift to the side. How you tucked your head towards you while you chucked makes me beam. The sly smiles you attempted to seclude when I turned my head make my heart cease for a moment. The glittering reflection from your teeth never fails to strike me speechless. I count down the seconds and await your next move; you’re constantly on the verge of bliss.
It was that one gaze you bestowed, how your eyes widened with intense curiosity. The secret glances while I looked away graced me with your passion. Is it me you’re looking for? Quite frankly, we’re both craving something, or someone, genuine.
It was how your hair, black like the midnight sky, framed your face, and how it was your one insecurity. It glistened as the shimmering sunlight danced upon its strands. You fuss every morning when you wake up because of the arduous struggle it is to style it to your liking. No matter the amount of time you spend on your “silky” locks, it could never compare to its natural, mangled form — because that’s simply you; you tangled with me.
It was when you held my hand, how your fingers wrapped so closely against mine. When your welcoming, warm fingers rubbed against my ice cold skin, all calamities cease to exist. Perhaps that’s why I felt so safe, and how you convinced me that you wanted to fix me is priceless. Your grip inevitably caused my surrender.
It was why you sought me, how your passion for perfection was never met. The funny thing is, I’m you — and I left you before we even met.
