Tag Archives: Memories

Same Formula, Different Variables

Constant, unimaginable
Same flow, different road.
The traffic, the lights
The intersection and signs
Are all the same but the day.

Different cars, faces and voices
Echoes bounce back
Different waves, intensity and direction.
The breeze is still but never the same.

Yesterday, today and tomorrow
We walk the same path and follow
The same moments of the past
And thinking the moments would last

But it’s the same thing all over again
Like the hands of the clock on the wall
Circling and circling ’til the end
Telling the same, right but different call.


Ephemeral Tragedie

Here we are again in an extremely ordinary day and me handing out two pictures to you that looked seemingly the same and very much familiar. It is your latest family picture. You wonder why I gave it to you and what would you do with it. Then I say, “Spot the difference between the two pictures.” You unquestioningly did and took a minute and you stare back at me with those piercing eyes, “There’s nothing wrong with the pictures,” you say. “Look again,” I answered back.

For a second you thought the lights flickered and found an empty space where you think you were supposed to be in one of the pictures. You will notice because you’re the one that fills the back in between your mother and father’s head. There were you. But no. You stared at the picture and found yourself exactly where you were supposed to be. It’s just the flickering of the lights. There is no difference.

But in truth there was a difference. You just convinced yourself that it didn’t happen.

That the moment you saw yourself lost was when you see the very room you were standing in seconds ago and you were looking at it in the picture that was once your family picture. How ridiculous it had been, you thought.

Is the thought really that ridiculous to determine the impossibility of the event? Or perhaps we are not only inclined to understand and experience the glitches of time?

We all have a lifetime to decide…


Receding In A Negative Narrative

It’s not the time to seek refuge

to the fulfilling peace brought by razors

and delicately harness the pain from my thoughts

until I cry out your name in anguished voice.

 

The words are cutting deep

to my chest and the heavens felt

how pathetic my state have become

yet you’re an angel surrounding me

inside this hole of uncertainty.

 

My life is hanging on a balance to support

the weight you’re placing on one side

as those feelings weigh a ton

and I spring upwards to the sky

and fell down with scraped knees and broken bones.

 

But I wrote this piece in cheap words

to better exemplify the pain

along with the sound of the rain

and its waters running along to the path of your name.

And it’s not easy to see

how everything I feel could be

resonating inside your head

and realize how drastic I could get.

 

But I keep hoping that I’d see you again

and if the seraphs forbid, you would sweetly look into my eyes

and slowly melt the thing I held close to my limbs

and quickly look away after seeing my deluded dreams

and I would never utter a word.

I’ll walk past by knowing that

second glances don’t mean anymore

unless that it’s something that I am yearning for

such as that of those pair of eyes you own imbued with glamour.

 

You could have me as I am.

As of someone that would be there to understand

and I may not have anything that most men have in common

but I’m always be here for a shoulder to lean on.

How I can always be an open novel

that you could rip and tear its pages

that doesn’t care if you broke its spine–

or have its cover resigned

along with the title that is screaming of more than just words

passing meaningless to your course–

that could be sold in a cheap price on a store

and leave me for someone that deserves you more

as to how a child replaces his toys, outgrowing them of bore.

 

These dying words shall tell you how I keep struggling

to keep pacing with the signs you’re making

visible to my heart’s blind eyes

impaired by the night’s confusing lights

that once led me to your presence

and turn me to this monster’s statement of defense

as a story no one could ever understand

and possibly the last thing I could say

before I start to let go of your hand,

because the music never stops from making you sway

from the melodies only you know how to play.

But I’ll keep listening to the pattern of the tone

and mess with the chords

and compose my own

and sing to you the madness

you won’t forget to ask me how to perform.

 

Amidst of all these pain, I’ll stay

even I’ll live with a life, forever feeling gray

of these things that are purely inside my mind

won’t cease to manifest as you crawl back and forth in this head

that could shatter almost everything that I own

because I am used in to being torn

and after all, I’m just a lost boy

with scraped knees and broken bones.


Cold Summer Nights

And I’m writing for you tonight

To remember your eyes that once burn bright

And these words that are left unsaid

Shall keep you to your sleep instead

 

But are you safe now?

The things you threw off of your shelves

The memories we missed

The moments that we shared

Will stay by my side and keep me contained

Until you say those words that will free me from myself

The truth that you despise every inch of me

And loathe the moment we first met

So you won’t look away everytime our eyes set

On each other fixated by the haunting past I brought to you

 

The times of regret that I filled

Were deeply situated on sorrows

Whereas I can no longer see your smile

That once kept me to this untainted wisps of time

 

But you’re finally free

Yet you can’t stand looking at me

And these summer nights

Will keep haunting me

As I rest assured you’re sound asleep

Dreaming of him that deserves you more

Than my worthless screams

Echoing behind these doors

 

And have you know I am wasted?

We share dark pasts that can no longer last

Because the strings were cut by me with broken trusts

And those promises…are they still there?

Those crying words that left their stare

I’ve broken you and it’s not fair

 

I’m letting you know that I’m okay

Still living a nightmare even if you will stay

Because I know deep inside this gaping hole

Where my heart supposed to be

Lies the amount of sadness 

I know you couldn’t keep

And let me carry the burden myself

As you search for another

A man you deserve

Who will treat you well 

And kiss you to sleep

To drive the monsters away

As you dream blissfully tonight

And me praying you’re safe.


The Surge of an Outcry

It’s a very tiring day even though the the Sunday sun has not yet shown itself. Dawn is fast approaching and he is lost in his own thoughts. His chest barely giving him enough air for every breath he takes that would suffice the need of his hungry mind. And on the dark corner of his room he sits, embracing his legs and placing his chin on his knees. 

The blanket and pillows are sprawled all across his bedroom floor. The faint moonlight coming from the open window is sending chilly wisps of air inside that empty room. Inside that emptiness where he choose to stay.

Calming yet, it bothers him. The peaceful atmosphere bothers him because he is afraid that he might be dead. Even for a second his mind cannot comprehend the sterile gaze of that pair of eyes looking at him. Veiled beneath the mask of void of darkness around him. He is not inside his bedroom. He is not in his house but somewhere in this world where he has the key. A place where the sun is silent–his mind.

He knows that it’s better to lock the doors. It’s better to shut the noise of silence that haunts him in his sleep for along with every strand of sound that he hears, came a whisper. A whisper so loud that can shake the walls and ceilings of his head.

Fear is creeping in. He had to stop the screaming. He closed his eyes. He covered his ears. His legs are trembling with every tone. His lips are shivering from the cold and the intangible sight of the unknown.

The door shook. Whatever is outside, it is trying to break in. The locks can’t hold the force of something he cowers to face. Streaks of light comes from the gap of the shaking door from its hinges and it’s starting to reveal his hidden secrets. Slowly being unconcealed by the power from the other side. Transparency is looming above him. Eating the place he crafted using his memories. The air he breathes is starting to diminish. The chilling sensation began to warm itself from the presence of the thing behind the door and it never ceases to try and force his way in.

Despite the sound that could surely echo miles away, he was sure he’s the only one who can hear it. No rescue would come. Just him. Alone. Cold.

Reluctantly, he builds up the courage to stand. With every effort, he tries to shake the feeling of throwing up. His insides are slowly being eaten by the malevolence being inflicted by the mysterious. The floor began to feel like a quicksand. With every step, an inch is given for him to sink into the slime of dirt.

A voice inside his head tells him that he’d never make it. His face will be buried beneath and be forgotten through time. His thoughts start to sink to madness. A type of paranoia that’s unbinding him from death. Letting it glow and light a spark of hope.

And as his eyes go deeper, he caught a faint glimpse of light shower his room. A silhouette of a lady in white sank her hand and grabbed his own. A smile so dazzling he dare not to tell. How she managed to rescue a soul and rest him to his death.