427. I Am a Fighter

I am a fighter.

I fight my own demons.

I would die to live,

And always give all I can give,…

To survive.

I am a fighter.

I bleed out to be here.

Dig-in…stand my ground.

My mangled fists, they throw and pound,

Against fate.

I am a fighter.

I fight on for my life.

Don’t stand in my way.

I’ve fought for every single day,

Of my life.

I am a fighter.

I will jab, cross, and hook.

Slip, pull, and defend,

Until I meet my KO’d end…

…I will fight!

K. Aldaya, 2/2/18

Picture: Song Ga Yeon; https://www.pinterest.com/pin/492862752963861058/

426. No One

When I needed a hand, no one was around.

When I bled out my pain, no one ever cared.

When I needed an ear, no one ever listened.

When I cried myself to sleep, no one was awake.

When I needed a hug, no one ever held me.

When I was alone and scared, no one ever came.

Yes, I’ve always been needy…

And “No One” is my name.

K. Aldaya, 1/31/18

425. Waiting

I…I see you there.

Why can’t you see me?

I place my hand upon the glass;

Yet, your hand never reaches out to me…

Nor sees beyond reflection.

I…I see you there.

Far away, though still,

I wonder what it’s like to live,

On the other side of this windowsill.

My hand presses ‘gainst the glass…

…Waiting…………..

………Waiting………………….

K. Aldaya, 1/30/18

Picture: Original Source Unknown; http://wisgoon.com/pin/17546199/#submit_comment

424. Human

No, I’m not a generic “white person”,

And no one should ever be.

We’re all our own people,

So stop stereotyping me.

I’m not a “white person” at all.

I am simply a human being,

And until all understand this,

Racism will always be a thing.

Who cares what you look like.

What are you like inside?

What kind of a soul do you have,

Within this skin we all reside?

All ethnicities…shapes…colors…

We are all the same.

So why can’t we love one another?

Sometimes sight is such a shame!

If we saw no colors…

Then there’d only be a name: Human.

K. Aldaya, 1/26/18

423. Hollow

The floorboards creak…

Titter-totter. Titter-totter.

This place is home,

So what’s the matter?

What’s the matter?

Doors move and squeak…

Shriek-shriek. Shriek-shriek.

This place is home,

So why sneak?

Creak-Creak.

The windows jolt.

Rattle-clatter. Rattle-clatter.

This place is home,

So where’s the chatter?

What’s the matter?

The stairs settle…

Whisper-whisper. Whisper-whisper.

No one is home,

But they were…

They were……………

K. Aldaya, 1/25/18

Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/dark-door-door-handle-light-1852985/

422. My Voice Has Left Me For a While

My voice has left me for a while.

I know not where it goes.

I only know sometimes it leaves,

And I wait for it’s return,

With soft, restless heaves.

When the air is still and silent,

And ghosts at last have fled…

Away from the warm glow,

Of your eyes and countenance.

It’ll again return, I know.

For now, I sit and write the words,

My voice can not yet say.

Please, won’t you sit with me and wait?

As I rest upon your shoulder,

And pray it’s not too late?

That my voice will return to me,

As swiftly as it left,

Before the night’s too dark to see,

The path it travels,

And ne’er returns to me.

My voice has left me for a while.

I know not where it goes.

I only know sometimes it leaves;

And in my head I hear a song,

Which no one else perceives.

K. Aldaya, 1/5/18

421. Misunderstood

You’ll never understand. I know.

It’s just the way it is.

You’ll never understand how I feel,

And I’m glad. It is what it is.

You’ll never understand why I,

Am the way I am.

You’ll always see me as less than you;

And it’s okay. I am what I am.

You’ll never understand, yet still,

I wish you’d at least try;

Though I don’t blame you for not wanting to,

Life is short and too soon we die.

You’ll never understand, my dear,

How much I wish to be…

Free from the blueprints of memory.

Wave goodbye. What will be, will be.

K. Aldaya, 1/4/18

420. Mirror

Fingers pressed,

Firm and still,

Awaiting motion,…

From the brain wand’ring at will,

Beyond all tactile notion.

Eyes adrift,

Scan and see,

Sights too far from word;

Through glass they hide from mem’ry,

In corners undiscovered.

Tiptoeing.

Wandering.

Matter falls away.

In the mirror unblinking,

She silently floats away.

K. Aldaya, 12/7/17

Picture: Original Source Unknown; https://wallpaperscraft.com/download/girl_mirror_reflection_opinion_87457/1920×1080#

419. What Do You Call It?

What do you call it when someone’s judged by their skin?

When they’re told, “You’re a certain way and don’t fit in”.

What do you call it when they’re picked on for their shade?

When they’re told they are wrong, just for how they were made?

What do you call it when they’re blamed for who they are?

“Your skin is the reason why you deserve a scar”.

What do you call it when they’re told: “Change your color!”.

Told: “It isn’t right” or “You should have another”?

I’ll tell you what it is called…It’s called racism, right?

Though I wonder what you’d say if I told you they were “white”.

K. Aldaya, 11/29/17

418. Mortal Paths

Another night ‘lone I lie,

And drift the vast path of thought.

Oh, how many years wasted?

Wandering endlessly…

Though, always onward led?

Led unto my own demise;

A maze of my own making.

What a waste of life…of time:

So precious…so finite…

Squandered in verse and rhyme.

I am nothing. Never was.

Mortality haunts my brain.

For I know not where to start,

Nor how to find the worth,

In the pleadings of heart.

Will anyone remember?

Or will everyone forget?

This mortal realm where I walked,…

On paths without ending;

Where all alone I talked…

To you.

“Hello”………………………………………………………….”Goodbye”.

K. Aldaya, 11/24/17

Picture: https://www.shutterstock.com/video/clip-9726293-stock-footage-handwriting-a-letter-by-candle-light.html