397. Go to the Water

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

Tears flowing forth.

Time runs it’s course,

In the flowing forth of words from mouths.

Nothing but a freak.

A child: lost and meek,

Cursed to bear the cost of others’ sorrows.

Fates can not be changed.

Experiences rearranged.

Once set into motion it continues.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

“Kill yourself today.

You’re in everybody’s way.

Why can’t you see your fate is sealed.

No one wants you here.

Curse’s won’t disappear.

Why must you fight the flowing of the water.”

The window is ajar,

And beyond is just a bar.

One step and then it will all be over.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

Nobody will stop you.

You know what you must do.

Look down into the darkness of the water.

Their eyes are looking up.

Go on, they’ve had enough.

It will only hurt a little longer.

Legs break in the fall.

Nobody cares at all.

They watch you with the coldness of the water.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

Crawl to the boat’s tip.

Take a little slip.

Fall down face first into shivering water.

Can not swim away.

Lungs fill up straight away.

Choke upon the apathy of strangers.

Bodies soon grow cold,

As souls release their hold,

And all that’s left’s another child forgotten.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water.

No one speaks the name.

Life goes on just the same,

As bodies drift away on the water.

Cruelty is a plague.

Apathy digs a grave,

Which buries all the outcast little children.

Flow. Flow. Flow in the water…

…Go. Go. Go to the water…

…….Go. Go. Go to the water.

K. Aldaya, 5/21/17

Picture: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/22892496-dust-to-dust

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360. Who Will Weep for the Dead?

Screaming2

Who will mourn for the lost,

And who will weep for the dead,

When the tides of sinful lust,

Awash each virgin-bed?

Blood is spilt upon the earth.

Oh, the horrors of man’s greed!

Which never takes responsibility,

For it’s every bitter deed.

Scream in terror children!

The dead shall not be grieved!

Only the victims bare the pain,

Of the sins they have received.

Their cries echo in vain,

As the dead will not be heard.

It only drives them more insane,

With every closeted-word.

And who will mourn for the lost?

Who will weep for the dead?

For rather then listening to the truth,

Men grieve for their ears instead.

K. Aldaya, 7/7/16

Picture: http://www.survivingmold.com/news/2014/12/cirs-the-genetics/; http://www.survivingmold.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2034/11/Screaming2.jpg

330. Lolita

tumblr_m2x1i4dsuC1r6mu6wo1_500

I like cake, and I like candy.

Blades for cutting wrists are handy.

I like treats, and I like frosting.

No one knows what childhood’s costing.

I like balloons, and I like games.

Obligatory silence maims.

I like dolls, and I like tea-time;

And touching children is a crime.

I like toys, and I like cupcakes.

This world is full of frauds and fakes.

I like pink, and I like parties;

And rapists rape children with ease.

I like frills, and I like laces.

Shut the door and close the cases.

I like carousels.  I like bows…

Scarred-wrists dressed in lolita clothes.

I like teddies and lullabies…

For they cover the shame-filled cries,

Of innocence’s homicide.

K. Aldaya, 1/20/16

Picture: By milk-rose on Tumblr; http://milk-rose.tumblr.com/post/21632099649

282. The Tree

Tree Awakening

Growing. Advancing its’ roots.

The tree always blossoms with time,

And in time it must feed its’ roots;

With sunshine.

Inside the flesh it has grown.

Now out of flesh it must rise,

And break through the skin and bone;

To survive.

Boring its’ way through the cheek.

Blood oozes and creeps down its’ bark.

Will the world be ready for this freak;

And fathom?

Gasps and screams sing-out as it grows.

“Oh, how horrid the truth! How bizarre!”

“This black-tree only spreads and sows;

Its’ evil!”

“Cut it down! Cut it down! The devil needs no light!”

“Let it live in the darkness it exposes!”

Too obscene to look at, and offensive a blight;

To accept.

Growing. It always keeps growing alone.

Cut back and cut down,….it remains.

For evil once lived finds a life of its’ own;

And spreads.

Could the light have allowed the tree,

To blossom into something of worth?

Is there beauty in the horror in thee;

In season?

The tree through each season lives on,

And under the skin it still thrives.

‘Til one day all its’ roots will be gone;

In soul-death.

For self-destruction’s humanities’ legacy,

To the children who refuse to accept,

They should hide the sins of the world and agree:..

“There’s no tree”.

K. Aldaya, 12/4/14

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://dark.pozadia.org/wallpaper/Evil-Tree-Lord-Awakening/

280. The Death of Dreams

in_the_mirror_by_sad_cat-d3geaay

Remember when you dared to dream?

Remember when you still had hope?

When the world held possibilities,

And time was vast in scope?

Remember when you dared to trust?

Remember when you still saw good?

When you looked into a persons’ eyes,

And expected brotherhood?

Now you always expect the worst.

That people are working an angle.

And when you look into anothers’ eyes,

You expect your heart they’ll strangle.

And now you don’t know how to dream.

And hope just makes your heart cry.

For you look in the mirror and all you see,

Is a vessel almost bled dry…

Just waiting ’round to die.

Remember when you used to think,

Someday you’d find some salvation?

And be saved from the death of dreams,

By some empathy or consolation?

Now all you think is that it’s late,

And hopes and dreams: for the young.

And daydream what might have been,

If your dreams weren’t left unsung.

You close your eyes and fantasize,

In your daily dissociation,

About how you and things might have been,

If just one person had offered validation…

Before the eleventh hour.

K. Aldaya,  11/2/14

Picture:  “In the Mirror” by Sad-Cat on Deviant Art: http://sad-cat.deviantart.com/gallery/; http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/135/b/a/in_the_mirror_by_sad_cat-d3geaay.jpg

273. Life is an Abuser

woman in depression

Life is an abuser,

And I, his unwilling victim.

Everyone tells me I’m wrong.

I should give in,

And go along.

Life is an abuser.

He hurts me all the time.

Everyone tells me to like it.

I should enjoy,

And commit.

Life is an abuser,

And I should love my abuser.

Everyone says I have to,

If I want love,

And acceptance too.

Life is an abuser,

He tells me I’m ungrateful,

And guilts me into staying,

And taking it,….

And praying.

Life is an abuser.

I sit in the corner and chant….

It’s okay….okay….okay….okay…,

But don’t believe it….

Not today.

Life is an abuser.

I tire of being his toy.

He loves to mess with my head.

It hurts so much,

I wish I were dead.

Life is an abuser,

And I, his unwilling victim.

Everyone tells me it’s okay,

But it is not…….NO…..Not today!

K. Aldaya,  6/16/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://www.kuramamagazine.com/images/suicidal%20girl.jpg

234. Just Another Broken Soul

broken_soul_by_andygoth666-d4nh06t

I don’t know why I bother.

I write. I weep, in vain.

I’ll never be able to express or convey,

What’s pounding in my brain.

I say a word or maybe two.

You’ll nod your head, “Ah yes!”,

“I understand”.

And I will nod, “Sure…yes”.

But the truth is that it angers me.

How patronizing can you be?

You know nothing of my life,

And I’m glad for it not to be!

You’ll never understand what it’s like to cry….,

Cry away years of your life.

To linger, strive, hurt, and bleed,

The blood from your own knife.

To only know that pain because,

It’s all you’ve ever known;

And never trust joy or happiness,

Forever feeling new and unknown.

But it’s my fault because I was,

Born to take a breath,….to walk.

Born a toy for everyone.

Toys don’t get to fight back or talk.

Toys are made to be used and trashed,

When all the fun is through–a waste–

Of others time and lives…

A regret. A purchase made in haste.

But as I’ve said it’s my fault,

And my place in time and guilt.

If I don’t get over it,

It’s more guilt upon guilt.

Those who damage and destroy,

They get off scott-free –no responsibility;

While I must take responsibility,

For everything which was done to me.

I know what I’m supposed to say.

I know what I should do,

But it would only be because,

I was told it’s what I should do.

I don’t believe that I’m stronger,

Or believe I’m now wiser or better.

Is this Masochism 101?

Must I learn to love pain to be better?

I know it’s not what you want to hear,

And so you may no longer listen;

But yet I still must say it because it’s the truth.

I beg you, listen!

I will never be okay and it is not okay!

I won’t lie and say it’s fine as if it never happened.

Nobody wins and there’s only destruction.

I will hurt until the end.

For a broken soul may never mend.

K. Aldaya, 03/20/13

Picture:  “Broken Soul” by AndyGarcia666 on Deviant Art; http://andygarcia666.deviantart.com/art/Broken-Soul-281289269

229. I Am Shame

What to do?

Tell me how to,

Lose all this fretful shame?

Suppressed and masked,

Through time in same.

In death my life has passed.

Try to bury,

In cemetery.

It haunts me in the gloom;

Whispering of sweet-death,

And trading life for doom,

With each gasping breath.

Depression724311

Try to free.

To let it be.

To get it out of me.

Truth is truth, even when,

It’s hard to have to see.

Please….don’t look at me then!

What to do?

Tell me how to,

Repel the guilt eyes’ impart?

More shame for shame;

For in letting guilt depart,

I burn in your lit-flame.

What to do?

I have no clue.

I am shame and am ashamed.

I exist whether liked or not;

Am made more when I am blamed.

For inside his body is fraught,

And is screaming from the relentless onslaught.

K. Aldaya, 05/23/12

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://www.mensxp.com/images/article/health/Mental_Health/Depression724311.jpg

225. Doll Face

broken_doll_by_ikanji-d5ti7sf

Doll face.

Pretty doll.

Cute face.

Crawl….crawl.

Dirty face.

Bawl…and bawl.

Smudged face,

At night’s fall.

Shadow face.

Cringe and bawl.

Wet face,

‘scape the maul!!!

Cracked face.

Lost eyeball.

Doll face.

Broken doll.

Ugly face.

Appall! Appall!

Bloody face.

Masks may wall,

From disgrace.

Clown-face?

Can you recall?

The former beauty of your souls’ broke-face?

K. Aldaya, 12/27/11

Picture: “Broken Doll” by iKanji on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Broken-Doll-351889647

221. O’ Pretty Little Thing

4655914640_888667c445_o

O’ What a pretty little thing.

How do you not, now know?

That you are here to bare your self;

Naked. Soul-aglow.

Porcelain skin and glazed, glassy eyes,

Gaze a world of whips; chains.

Hands are icy-cold, stone’lly things;

This you’ll learn in pains.

O’ What a pretty little thing.

Dance and spin ’round for me.

For I am master. You the slave.

Ah, dream of what will never be!

Only the sweeter to taste….touch….

When lips meet each new crack.

My doll you steadily break way,

To each piercing whack.

O’ What a pretty little thing.

My favorite little toy.

Stop escaping from our play times,

And in pain find joy.

Soon, my dear, you’ll be so ugly,

From all your hopeless dreams,

That I will have to leave you ‘lone,

To drown in your screams.

O’ What a pretty little thing.

My broken little doll.

Savor the torment and the care,

Damaged toy so small,

For that is what you were made for;

To give pleasure to us.

To play and cry blood-tears for us,

And ne’er make a fuss.

O’ What a pretty little thing.

Black-fractured porcelain doll.

Now I must leave you,

(Didn’t listen….so freed you)

To hang by the neck on my wall.

You could have accepted your place,

But you had to dream more.

Now you’ll be broken forever.

Toy doll turned a criminal and whore!

K. Aldaya, 12/15/11

Picture:  Artist Unknown; (Some writing in corner but can’t make it out?) http://farm5.static.flickr.com/4029/4655914640_888667c445_o.jpg

214. Scream or Shout

173332

So many thoughts inside my head,

But how to get them out?

I wish I knew, or had one clue,

As to how to scream or shout!

All this pain locked away,

Since the dawn of time.

My skin is pain, although in vain,

I ask to know my crime.

Rock is cold and has no soul,

And feels not pain or sorrow.

How is it then, my skin feels it when,

My soul hides deep in marrow?

So many thoughts inside my head,

But how to get them out?

They hide behind, walls of stone and bind….

My tears:  They scream…..they shout!

K. Aldaya, 05/23/11

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://www.free-hdwallpapers.com/wallpapers/abstract/173332.jpg

196. The Great Inundation

Flooded_subway_Murder-992x542

Days of light, and black of night,

The endlessly faded-years,

Arise in mind, the wish to find,

The ground unwashed with tears.

Shadows of night,

Flashes of light,

Drip in and out the eyes.

What can I say of where I’ll stay,

When rivers run and rise?

Wooden floors, and creaking doors.

I do not dare to linger more,

For waters-rose, sift through the toes,

And send shivers before.

I do not wish to make a splish,

And out of door make ‘scape.

I only ask, what is my task,

For drying times’ landscape?

I know this house has been a house,

Through myriad ages and storm-rains.

What is, just is, and what is…,

Has left me with these pains.

Give me a firm place to stand firm,

Within the flood-torn remnant thoughts,

Of the mind, which I still find,

O’er-run and soaked with fraughts.

K. Aldaya,  4/20/06

Picture:  “Flooded Subway-Murder” by etwoo on Deviant Art; http://etwoo.deviantart.com/art/Flooded-subway-Murder-174655998

164. Be At Peace Little Ones

blue-dark-girl-lost-photography-Favim.com-311870

In my youth I never slept,

As one of idle mind.

For children of innocence,

So soon are left behind;

To gather and to bind.

A mess of immature chaos,

Was carried from my early start.

Oh, youth should not be poisoned so,

Twisted by a blackened heart,

And dreams scattered apart.

I know not what it’s like,

To be free of my memory,

Nightmares and they intermixed,

Compounded in every degree,

By the years taken from me.

My body was the enemy.

My soul a fallen comrade,

In wars of power and control.

The armor in which I was clad,

Was made of fear…and bad.

When turmoil is your first bed,

And innocence costs you dear,

You learn to sleep alone at night,

And be at peace in the drear.

(As your side’s pierced with a spear).

So be at peace ye little ones,

When youths’ caress has left,

To comfort not within the strife,

That’s left your soul bereft.

Look beyond the theft,

As just one piece of this shattered-life.

K. Aldaya, 9/17/05

Picture: Originally on http://vodkaandvogue.tumblr.com/; Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/311870/

156. Falling Rain

6a00d8354c582769e201156f1bc479970c-500wi

The body won’t forget what the mind wants to,

So I’m stuck with these old feelings,

And a constant aching-clue,

As to why there are no ceilings,

On this house or any other.

A protective realm of dry,

Under the blackened shadows of the rainy sky.

Bones rust and rot, …hoping to die.

The mind doesn’t want to recall what the body’s kept,

For the mind escaped somewhere while the body slept.

Dreams…0’dreams have brought me here,

To this time I own,

But skin decays, in gripped portrays,

Of storms the mind’s disowned.

The body won’t forget what the mind longs to.

The damage is already done,

Though God’s pulled the years through,

Out of the flood and mounting mud,

Having no reason…not one…haven’t a clue,

For the hours and minutes here are,

Undeserving of a mind.

In a cursed tomb as this with no covering to find….

And there’s one drop…more behind.

K. Aldaya, 8/6/05

Picture:  “Rain Drops” by Austin Tolin on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/austintolin/124121992/in/set-72057594085954911

152. The Worthy Grave

Mary_Ellen_Mark_Feet_Strapped_Down_in_Bed_1976_c1976_1858_41

You truly don’t know what the hours can bring,

The shrill stinging-winters, and fresh buds of Spring.

The seasons hastily wither on,

All entangled and used as a pawn,

In the deaths nights discernibly bring.

The graveyards are open for guests or the dead,

And isn’t that you when you sleep in your bed,

Dreaming of a consistent view,

Agreeable to aspirations in you?

Which disintegrate, with all I’ve said.

Don’t worry my plot has been worked myriad ages,

Slumbering shallow there, in ordered stages.

Tombstone reads, “Here lies the dead”,

And yes, I’m still lying here in my bed,

Citing forth head-words to pages.

You truly don’t know what the hours carry,

Floating o’er my ossuary.

I’ve bled, and bled, and bled to live;

But to ghosts, time cannot give,

Blindness to what all can see.

(So just leave your knife inside of me.)

I remember the smell of damp death and earth,

And the screaming silence of broken-birth,

Driven to solace with your purging-pain,

A blade of turmoil and chaos to the brain.

For you see?….

Your souls’ deathbed was granted as my worth.

K. Aldaya, 7/13/05

Picture:  “Feet Strapped Down in Bed” by Mary Ellen Mark: http://www.maryellenmark.com/; http://www.bulgergallery.com/dynamic/images/display/Mary_Ellen_Mark_Feet_Strapped_Down_in_Bed_1976_c1976_1858_41.jpg

146. God of Man

i_give_up_by_vhphoto-d3f3nq3

You say aloud you love me,

But why spoken so easily?

When in but one brief moment,

You clearly do hate me,

As nothing’s given back quite as nice as you’ve lent.

Your love’s a constant danger,

What will you do for love?

I know…you’d take out all my bad shown.

Seen evident hither,

Where you stake your cross-branding e’er ceaseless atone.

All-knowing. Malevolent.

You’ve placed your throne of judgment high,

For God’s commands to enforce.

Now aren’t you God ill-bent?

To play God o’er all you choose to love as sins’-source?

But O’ self appointed God,

I don’t care anymore. I’m tired.

Do what you want.  I give up.

I can’t e’er fear to trod!

Kill sin-flesh if you must.

Pass ’round my bloody cup.

Spread the cup to every mouth,

So they can speak too of my sins,

But remember this, King of Kings,

When blood-drips from your mouth,

A God of heaven may be listening,

And bears spotless, white wings.

K. Aldaya, 6/12/05

Picture:  “I Give Up” by VhPhoto on Deviant Art; http://vhphoto.deviantart.com/art/I-give-up-206763483

126. Lost Innocence

Broken_doll_by_spacedlaw

Then: a deathly shroud covered the sun.

When: vehement shadows harshly reigned,

Decisively ruling: rerun. rerun.

Repetitive witness in grays and blacks,

Of innocence dead, from go, to the cracks.

Through passionate summers of achieve,

Grew denser the stalkers’ expanse.

A hovering, creeping reprieve.

Tainting the airs of belief in rebirth,

Fogging the pathways to towns of life worth.

What hunters these lost phantoms be,

Slut-trophying…death in a breeze.

Distending the cracks with their new debris,

Constructed cracks of prophesied disgust;

Ends in cruel death…

Starts from a demons’ lust.

K. Aldaya, 2/27/05

Picture:  “Broken Doll” by spacedlaw on Deviant Art; http://spacedlaw.deviantart.com/art/Broken-doll-100896724

118. The End is Here

DTLAND0346bw

He knocked on my door,

To show that he is here.

Tall, dark, and frightful.

Morosely laughing,

Provoking sound fear.

Traducing the silence,

Bitter-shrieks of mis’ry,

Not out from within,

But stolen;

Ripped forth out from me.

Sharply he turns back,

Quick, flees out the doorway.

Came in just as he left,

“You can’t ever leave,

Right here you will stay!”

Day ‘vades his exit.

Window-rays torment well.

With uncertainty,

Time laughing,

As tolled: the End Bell!

K. Aldaya, 2/1/05

Picture:  “The Old Wooden Door” by Dan Tucker: http://www.photographybydantucker.com/; http://www.photographybydantucker.com/gallery2.php?ImgCatIDurl=1&ImageID=133&page=4

103. Silenced Dreams

Alone in the Dark 1

I often feel I should not speak,

Of dreams I oft’ have dreamt.

For bitter stories can they leak,

Stirring up much contempt,

And isn’t need irrelevant?

Though longing, long in silence,

For expressioned visions.

A contemplated final sense,

To reasons that dreams run,

With same old things, never done.

K. Aldaya, 11/14/04

Picture:  “Alone in the Dark”, Artist Unknown; http://dark.pozadia.org/wallpaper/Alone-in-the-Dark-1/

92. A Burning Vision

Sitting still, as still can be,

Knowing that I cannot see,

Anything behind of me.

Hear the creaking ever closer,

But there sit, and do not stir;

Wait for something to occur.

Close, so close , that I can feel,

Breath behind. Almost surreal.

Longing for a screams’ repeal!

071116rabid

Silence but for the soft sound,

As evils’ heart does pound and pound,

In my ears the beats resound!

The terror comes o’er in whole,

A terror without console,

Begetting a tormented soul.

Hand quickly seizes my arm,

So sudden as to cause alarm,

Which foreshadows coming harm.

Frozen. Too scared to make a move,

This vision I must now remove,

For all things to improve.

With a spark of strength I turn,

To see what I cannot discern,

‘Bout this vision that does burn.

Black, cold, and bitter sights,

Fill my heart with dreadful frights,

And a blaze inside ignites.

K. Aldaya, 10/28/04

Picture: “Rabid” by Charles Bodi: http://www.charlesbodi.com/; http://ridemypony.com/index.php/2007/11/16/rabid/

91. Random Thoughts #2

Truth Unseen

Dreams call.

Nightmares shake.

To the living world I wake.

Wishing still,

For clarity,

‘Cause truth is still a rarity.

K. Aldaya, 10/28/04

Winning Despair

Tears alone,

From fears unknown.

Fake’s release,

Forsakes the peace.

Trepidation there.

Won:  vast despair.

K. Aldaya, 2/05

88. Capture Picture Perfect

Fake_A_Smile_by_meliipanda

Capture with a picture clear,

What all want to see.

The vision of a soul so dear,

And what life should be.

And wouldn’t you agree?

No one wants to see a soul,

Which shows the face,

Of burdens without console,

And mounted high disgrace.

Of thoughts one can’t erase.

So capture picture perfect.

A happy glowing sight,

Then none can there detect,

That there just might,

Be much beyond eyesight.

K. Aldaya, 10/24/04

Picture:  “Fake A Smile” by meliipanda on Deviant Art; http://meliipanda.deviantart.com/art/Fake-A-Smile-91941053

85. The Prison

creepy-basement

Trapped.

A cold damp cell to sleep.

Alone.

In dark silence I weep.

Tired.

Nightmare dreams do seep.

Silenced.

I dare not make a peep.

Afraid.

Of what I’m soon to reap.

Wicked.

My chastisements steep.

Waiting.

Heart begins to leap.

Doomed.

Closer, shadow does creep.

Scorned.

Sentenced as below cheap.

Forsaken.

In entombed dirt heap.

Terrified.

Shivering in nights’ deep.

K. Aldaya, 10/11/04

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://baseballfordinner.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/creepy-michigan-basement.jpg

84. Taunting Ghosts

maxresdefault

Ghosts in the corner of your eyes,

Haunt and taunt you despite disguise.

You can’t hide what you have done,

Their tormenting has only just begun.

You can’t hide from them anywhere,

They can find you here, and find you there.

Ghostly visions of a tormented place,

Where you must ever await saving grace.

K. Aldaya, 10/10/04

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://i.ytimg.com/vi/lJarvZMi0gU/maxresdefault.jpg

83. Repression

___dead_inside____by_pure_poison89-d4muwxj

I can’t touch anything now,

It’s all coming again,

These feelings I can’t escape,

From things that happened back then.

I burn from the inside out,

Losing realities grip.

Touching things made of soft,

That turn stone as a moment does slip.

How can the body keep living,

With the residue of the mind,

Haunting every motion.

A life sentence of rewind.

Please let this all be over.

I can’t take all this again.

Pitted against the recall,

Of closing off from the pain.

K. Aldaya, 10/10/04

Picture:  “Dead Inside” by Pure-Poison89 on Deviant Art; http://pure-poison89.deviantart.com/art/Dead-inside-280258615

78. Shouldn’t Be Here

alone234

Everything on this Earth tells me I shouldn’t be here.

From the day of my birth, through each and every year.

Wishing I weren’t here.

Nothing I do is right.

I think unlike the masses.

Tossed into the night as time flows and passes.

Rejection here amasses.

K. Aldaya, 9/23/04

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Eq7_IIxCWyM/TlGwfbyY_4I/AAAAAAAABLE/uT5zKHrTix4/s1600/alone.jpg

75. Words Can’t Hurt You

words_hurt_by_skittles_and_zombies-d5sqf7g

Who again said “words can’t hurt you”?

That somehow words just flow right through?

I would rather be stabbed in head,

Than stabbed in back with words they’ve said.

Tearing people down with words,

Is the forte of cowards.

No scar left to show the attack,

They get away with every smack.

Never punished for their crimes,

Judicial records hold no times.

Though they injure to the soul,

Kill all that makes a person whole.

A scar, a cut, a bruise can heal,

But ever will those insults feel.

As if they were just said today,

Repeating in head the same way.

Can’t escape the memories,

They consume like a disease.

Go away! Stop yelling!

Don’t worry. There’s no telling!

No one cares that you slaughtered,

Cut my heart with every word.

You will get away with it,

Go ahead. Hit and hit!

Like you always say,

I deserve it anyway.

I wish you’d smack me this time.

You always threaten to, each time.

Hold your hand up like you will,

Instead throw the dog for a thrill.

Hear it crying and me too,

But hit me you will not do.

For you knew that I would wear,

Something that showed you were there.

You’re a coward. You knew,

My mom could punish me for you.

And no dirty work on hands,

From the toiling of your plans.

Who again said “words can’t hurt you”,

If only the hurt from words they knew.

K. Aldaya, 9/18/04

Picture:  “Words Hurt” by Skittles-And-Zombies on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Words-Hurt-350592892

74. Castaway

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Dear ‘God’, please remember me when I reach heaven’s ingress.

Hold me close as can be, for I have such loneliness.

Dear ‘God’, why do they all leave?

Why always left here alone?

Daily soul to grieve and grieve,

‘Til my heart is dead as stone.

Dear ‘God’, I’ll pretend you’re here.

Standing next to me smiling.

Glancing at me so dear,

This dream keeps me trying.

Dear ‘God’, would you stay always,

With this ‘lone forsaken soul?

Upon which none do gaze,

Left by the world unwhole.

Dear ‘God’, maybe you care for me?

People pass me on their way,

But don’t care to know me,

A lonely castaway.

K. Aldaya, 9/16/04

Picture: by dear_wes on Weheartit.com; http://weheartit.com/entry/65224866/via/dear_wes

69. No Soul

Unforgiven_by_ThousandLies

It waits here all alone at night,

Wishing a dream to live in light.

So waits in dreams of happiness,

Which daily fade to less and less.

It waits for love to come its’ way,

Knowing that no love will stay.

Reaching out to the unknown,

Confliction is the message shown.

Wished for love that cannot be.

Soul is not a soul you see?

For there is no soul for ye!

K. Aldaya, 8/14/04

Picture: “Unforgiven” by ThousandLies on Deviant Art; http://thousandlies.deviantart.com/art/Unforgiven-119151229

60. Confliction

Did it really happen?

I  knew at the time it did,

But now I only question.

From my eyes all truth is hid.

I-Miss-You-Korean-Drama girl

My head is so confused.

Are they right about this too?

Did I over-react then or did I make up what I knew?

Their words clutter thoughts,

Making me rethink everything.

Did it happen at all or was it as they so sing?

Was it a daydream that I confused with real?

They’re right…my fault!

I deserve what I got, and feel.

Now I must forget that anything happened at all.

I must not ever show,

Hurt from hitting that brick wall.

K. Aldaya, 5/20/04

Picture: from Missing You: Actress Kim So-Hyun as 15 year old Lee Soo-yeon; https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-1S3D-ADJXzo/ULnXNr5qCqI/AAAAAAAAABU/Mw3T3ZFlPxw/I-Miss-You-Korean-Drama.jpg

58. Black Bird

It comes to me in dead of night when dark dreams flood the mind.

A vision of black in mine eye which sends a shiver through the bones;

A vision to horrify.

It dwells on hill cemetery.

Perched on an old oak tree,

Barely to move; never to fly,

Though screams in stinging undertones a loathsome lullaby.

her-graveyard-gothicolors-with-crows

Staring, though more so, glaring…

Haunting. Watching. Stunning the nerves.

No wish it has to fly,

Do anything more than gaze;

A gaze to damnify.

I know that it doth hate me with a passion few have known;

That’s why it resides on high piercing me with it’s cold stare.

In darkness I lie.

Oh cruel, black bird of night release your ghastly hold.

Oh why? Oh why?

Can’t thou fear anothers’ soul?

Forever night is nigh.

K. Aldaya, 4/25/04

Picture: “Her Graveyard” by Gothicolors Donna Snyder; http://fineartamerica.com/featured/her-graveyard-gothicolors-images.html

54. The Cliff

I stand at the edge,

Trying to stand firm.

Stand at this ledge,

To live out this term.

I feel my feet,

Half off this cliff.

The darkness I’ll meet,

If I loosen this stiff.

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Sky black as coal.

Hear all the shadows,

Behind me in whole,

Sending cold-blows.

They poke and prod me,

At all the hours.

They won’t let me be,

With their mean powers.

They’ve forced me over,

With hands I hang.

The shadows, they were, laughing; the whole gang.

Taunting at my struggle,

With sweat on brow.

Between hands I juggle,

To keep hold…, but how?

Their cold, cruel ways,

Pushed me o’er.

On my heart it weighs,

Their ruthlessness galore.

Why can’t they see that I’m slipping?

They care not of me,

And that I’ve no gripping.

I’ve got to be tough,

Never let them know.

That I’ve not enough,

To resist their flow.

K. Aldaya, 3/20/04

Picture:  from Dark Shadows; http://www.awn.com/vfxworld/mpc-takes-bite-out-dark-shadows

52. Lost to the Night

abyss_by_ishutani-d5ztss6

Amid darkness the large oak trees,

Reach out to me in the breeze.

The darkness hovers over my head.

The black clouds continually stomp and tread.

No stars can be seen, nor moon.

I only hope that day come soon.

Lost in black I feel them near,

And hear their screaming in my ear.

The voices that linger in great sadness,

And eternally dwell in darks’ abyss.

I can feel their full heart pain,

And the madness in their brain.

My head is pounding and pounding,

With all the pain resounding.

The dark swallows my last daylight,

And I am lost into the night.

K. Aldaya, 3/23/04

Picture: Abyss by Ishutani on Deviant Art: http://ishutani.deviantart.com; http://th02.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/f/2013/089/8/6/abyss_by_ishutani-d5ztss6.jpg

49. The Monster

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It is behind me,

I must keep running,

This thing is ever so cunning.

It chases afar,

I can’t stop to rest,

Hunting me, it’s at its’ best.

It never will stop, nor let me forget,

That I deserve it’s constant threat.

At times so near, that I can hear it,

Breathing and yearning for just one hit.

To take me down to its’ stormy lair,

A pit of utterly loathsome despair.

I must keep moving,

No stopping to hide,

It can sense where I reside.

My fear, it draws it, ever closer; closer.

Always there it will not deter.

Keep on running,

No! Don’t turn around!

Keep going ’til you lose its’ sound.

The sound that echoes,

That pains and taunts,

The minds of those it eternally haunts.

The darkness around,

It hinders my flight,

But doesn’t obstruct my pursuers’ sight.

I’m lost in darkness,

Confused and afraid….Run!..,

Through a world without any sun.

In the darkness it swiftly flies,

Glaring at me with its’ flaming eyes.

I often can hear the pounding in my ears,

Its’ heart beating, throbbing me to tears.

I must keep running!

Forever move faster!

To avoid a potential horrific disaster.

I must stay strong,

Keep moving ahead,

So I don’t end up worse than dead.

K. Aldaya, 3/21/04

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://imgs.mi9.com/uploads/scary/4348/terror-eye_1024x768_76579.jpg

47. I Do Seek

“Who was I”, you may ask,

What was hiding ‘yond the mask.

I want all to be able to see,

Me for me, when I no longer be.

That I am, and I once was,

Discover the soul for what it was.

I don’t want people to think I,

Always thought only of when I’ll die.

I tried my hardest to always see good,

Through life’s disappointments I stood.

I always tried to do the best,

Whilest my heart and mind were stressed.

I wanted to make others joyful,

Not drain their heart but keep it full.

I never wanted to ever cause,

Someone to break the happiness laws.

People may say I saw only bad,

But through all creation I saw much glad.

Don’t think I never, ever noticed,

All that’s found through natures’ mist.

The beauty of the clouds and stars;

Of all the planets, Earth through Mars.

The sight of which brought kind tears,

The vastness that goes out light-years.

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The splendor of the fields and seas,

The seasons, even winter freeze.

I see it all, I am not blind,

The many times people are kind.

The many blessings handed me,

As being born where I am free.

I have lots to love I see,

Except myself, I just hate me.

This is what people should know,

I am my own great foe.

Everything can be so great,

But for myself it is too late.

I am often afraid and weak,

But never say I didn’t seek.

K. Aldaya, 3/20/04

Picture: Hubble/Galex/Spitzer Composite Image of M81; http://hubblesite.org/newscenter/archive/releases/2007/19/image/j/format/web/

42. Little Girl

child hiding from dad

Hello little girl I once was,

Are you doing what a little girl does?

You aren’t like all those others,

You are a girl that hides under-covers.

Other little girls don’t do that,

Sneaking and tip-toeing ’round like a cat.

When the night-moon’s up on high,

You don’t sleep but lie and cry.

Little girls aren’t this bad,

They don’t keep their parents mad.

Little girl why is it, that you so often get a hit?

Why are you so often loud?

You know talking’s not allowed.

You can now hide in here,

In the closet hide from fear.

Little girl come out! Come out!

Can’t you hear your daddy shout.

You must leave your cave now,

And greet the thrash of bad’s endow.

Little girl I hate you so,

Why can’t you disappear and go?

You shouldn’t even breathe their air,

You don’t deserve one single hair.

Why are you so disgusting?

You’re such an awfully messed-up thing.

Little girl go hide again.

Stay there ’til I tell you when.

Close your secrets in with you,

Shut them ever in there too.

Little girl your secrets, they,

Must stay forever locked away.

Little girl you need not show,

How you’re badder than they know.

You, yourself, brought this on,

So you deserve what’s foregone.

Hello little girl I know well,

Keep your soul locked. Never tell!

secrets keep

K. Aldaya, 3/08/04

Picture 1:  Photographer Unknown; http://erebusteam.net/attachment.php?attachmentid=1240&d=1368782526

Picture 2:  Photographer Unknown; http://www.soc.ucsb.edu/sexinfo/sites/default/files/child.jpg

36. The Door

[pictures.4ever.eu] doors in the field 154563

The door is open to another place,

Where you can run and veil your face.

You’re free to enter for your escape,

But it’s lined on the bottom with red tape.

Leave from here to go over there,

And the tape between worlds starts to wear.

Each time is harder to return from,

Making your glimpse of realities numb.

Run through the door to hide,

And enter an emptiness far and wide.

There’s the door if you wish to fare,

Sometimes there’s just too much to bear.

K. Aldaya, 9/21/03

Picture:  Artist Unknown; http://pictures.4ever.eu/cartoons/digital-art/doors-in-the-field-154563

34. Me and I

Girl in Mirror (3)

“Me”, said I. “I have some questions to ask. Do you think you can handle the task?”

Well, just go ahead.

“Why do you wish to be dead”?

“Do you feel somehow unfit”?

There is no forgiveness I can give myself,

Though a ‘God’ can forgive and put me top-shelf.

My guilt is of my origin and of my sin.

That is why I cannot die,

‘Cause my faults would fall on some other guy.

That isn’t the way it should work, I’m the jerk!

I deserve to be punished.

Only me.

So I have to live for now to, to repent, don’t you see?

K. Aldaya, 4/23/03

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://2.bp.blogspot.com/–ydY9rQvOxI/ULQ5VxTYYtI/AAAAAAAAOrk/zS4KfHsX7B0/s640/Girl+in+Mirror+%283%29.jpg

31. Tired

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I’m so tired.

Tired of being sad.

Tired of being mad.

Tired of crying.

Tired of trying.

Tired of thinking, feeling, and understanding.

I wish I were happy, joyful, and lively, but tired is all I am.

I’m just so tired.

Please…please…someone make this end!

I can’t take this anymore,…this life.

I feel empty and tired.

Just so very, very tired.

K. Aldaya, 9/21/02

Picture/GIF: from The Ring; https://38.media.tumblr.com/82b3053a9acf7f17ece7e68b9cf1dab3/tumblr_n08tallXtO1ra9vqfo1_500.gif

29. Wants

dark wood

I want to cry but no tears drop.

I want to sleep but sleeping does stop.

I want to dream, dreams where happiness rings,

But I dream rather nightmarish things.

I want to live a happy life but all life hands me is pain and strife.

I want but do I want too much?

For it sure seems as such.

K. Aldaya, 10/23/02

Picture:  Dark Wood by Butsmak on Photobucket; http://s138.photobucket.com/user/butsmak/media/untitled.jpg.html

13. It

depression-hoodie

It’s always there,

Deep, deep, inside.

It’s always where,

It is easy to hide.

In it’s hiding it rests,

Slowly growing; growing.

Passing it’s tests,

To keep going, and going.

Then all at once it erupts,

From being contained so long.

Showing more downs, less ups,

Destroying hearts’ song.

K. Aldaya, 5/29/03

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://media.npr.org/assets/news/2010/01/18/depression-e463a655307ccad3f1e741b74f3193f81620b2c1-s6-c30.jpg