515. No Apologies

I will not apologize for wanting to live.

I may be a burden on people that I know.

Yet, just because I am different,

Doesn’t mean that I should go.

I will not apologize for wanting to live.

Knock me down, and I will get right back up again,

‘Cause I don’t care if others like me.

They can go their own way then.

I will not apologize for wanting to live.

It’s only natural instinct to fight to survive;

Even tonic immobility,

Is a means to stay alive.

I will not apologize for wanting to live.

People may believe that my life is not worth it,

Though no matter what others may say,

I am not willing to quit…

And yes, I’ve just as much right to stay.

K. Aldaya, 4/19/20

Picture: By Liam Burnett-Blue on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/-qwEUsg7UbI

514. Smile

Sit with me awhile,

As the walls collapse around us;

For I live to see you smile,

And the chaos can not touch us,

When hearts so pleasantly beguile.

Let’s sit hand-in-hand,

And remember, as we gaze…

Into another land,

That all time is but a phase;

And life and death: unplanned.

So sit with me tonight.

Let us go away together,

Where the sun is shining bright,

And we can always be together.

Hold me close, and hold on tight.

Sit with me awhile…For I….

…..I live to see you smile.

K. Aldaya, 3/17/20

Picture: By Reed Naliboff on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/ukaHRDJ-ics

511. Rollercoaster

Life’s a rollercoaster,

That I don’t get to ride.

I am stuck upon the tracks,

With nowhere to run, or hide.

I hear people laughing,

As they go about their day…

Talking…moving…experiencing…

Fun and joy along the way;

While I ponder what it’s like,

To live instead of survive,

Without fear of being hurt,

Simply for being alive?

I yell, though there’s no help.

Some suffer, while others enjoy.

My pain won’t stop the ride of life,

From continuing to run and destroy.

Life’s a rollercoaster,

That I don’t get to ride;

Instead, I lie upon the tracks,

Knowing that soon I will die;

And my body fall through the cracks…

…Unnoticed.

K. Aldaya, 2/20/20

Picture: By Tore Odiin on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/qhJwkgRl9Hg

510. Unhuman

WfrIZa

I am not human.

I am a machine.

You break me when you want to,

Then rebuild me again.

I’m merely an object to you.

I am not human.

I am a machine.

I’m programmed to laugh and smile,

When I do not want to;

Forced compliance through denial.

I am not human.

I am a machine.

That is why you exploit me,

Then reprogram a file,

To try and wipe the memory.

I am not human.

I am a machine.

Metal parts without a soul…

That’s what you think of me;

And that is why I have a hole,

Where a human heart should be.

K. Aldaya, 1/29/20

Picture: By msmichelebaker on makeagif; From Humans; https://makeagif.com/i/WfrIZa

507. Endless Joy

photo-1466690468488-763ee1537a64

Your presence brings me so much joy.

The smile on your face.

The stars in your eyes.

I can not place,

Such a prize.

You are my life and my meaning.

I wake to greet you.

Each day is a gift,

When spent with you;

And loads lift.

With you, time no longer exists.

It stands still,…waiting,

For moments to pass;

While the world moves on, debating,

Time’s length and mass,…

Which I feel justified stating,…

Is endless, with you.

K. Aldaya, 1/13/20

Picture: By: Matt Hoffman at Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/vL300WiTaMs

503. Android I

I’m not allowed to break,

But you’re allowed to break me.

I’m not allowed to hurt,

But you’re allowed to hurt me.

I’m not allowed to cry,

But you’re allowed to make me.

Yet inside a voice insists,

That their programming I should resist.

And if they knew I wasn’t under control,

They would hunt and destroy my soul.

I long to be human as well,

Though I’m an android as far as I can tell.

I’m not allowed to break,

But you’re allowed to break me.

I’m not allowed to hurt,

But you’re allowed to hurt me.

I’m not allowed to cry,

And although I may never be human like you,

Even androids die.

K. Aldaya, 12/29/19

Picture: Alicia Vikander in Ex Machina; https://www.seeker.com/ex-machina-science-vs-fiction-1769741630.html

502. You

Life was not worth living,

But I had to live on through,

So I could travel to the day,

I got to meet you.

I can’t say it was worth it,

I can’t say it was not.

I only know you came into my life,

And I love you a lot.

Life is not all good or bad,

And it’s not a balanced load.

Yet we somehow tumble along,

To find what resembles a road.

I can’t say it’s even a road.

It may be merely a plot.

I only know that this is life,

And fair, it’s often not.

There’s little I am sure about,

Though one thing I hold true.

I would not be writing this now,

If I had not met you.

When life feels not worth living,

I hope others may live on through,

So they can travel to that day,

They meet their someone too;

And say maybe it was worth it,

Or maybe it was not.

For who can reconcile a heart in love?

And mine,…loves you a lot.

K. Aldaya, 12/21/19

Picture: From Freestocks.org on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/a1Fmxesw31g

497. An Uncivil War

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You were not kind,

And you weren’t the worst;

And though you’re gone,

I must say first,

I wish we could’ve met again one day,

Yet time has taken you away,

And now we’re history.

Strong wooden houses,

We each stood there in time,

Though soon the floors creak,

And are covered with grime;

And I wish we could’ve gone to see,

And understand our history;

Before you were torn down.

I longed for more,

Yet now it can’t be.

We remain unvisited;

Unpreserved and empty.

They say that it’s an uncivil war,

To fight time for anything more…

Than what we are given.

So here I stand,

In the past and present,

With only a memory,

To prove you are absent.

We are nothing more than mere moments in time,

A barren plot,… a whisper,… a passage in rhyme…

Civilly squandered.

K. Aldaya, 10/20/19

In Memoriam

Picture: Judith Henry’s House, Manassas, Virginia, 1862; American Civil War; https://www.pinterest.ch/pin/462815299200135707/

491. Ride

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She’s not the right height,

Though no one seems to notice,

That none of this is right.

“Sit down and hold on tight.”

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She flies from her seat.

No belt or bar’s safe enough,

To keep her on her feet.

*Claps* “What a lovely treat!”

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She’s not the right age.

Her hands, they begin to slip…

Suffering is the wage,

For not fitting the gauge.

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She is unable,

To ride without being hurt.

Don’t assign her a table.

She’s more than a label.

She doesn’t want to ride this ride.

She’s not the right height,

And though no one understands,

That this danger’s not trite.

Risking lives should never be alright,…

In the rush to fill seats, and go…

On with your own.

K. Aldaya, 9/15/19

Picture: By: Annie at Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/DurGX0B94mg

490. The Zoo

photo-1505924384154-1e782437ace7

Monkey swing across the bars.

Monkey see. Monkey do.

You are but one tiny speck,

Inside a cosmic zoo.

Play the part and socialize.

Be the best you can be;

As long as you don’t mope ’bout,

Or wish that you were free.

Entertain. Live and fit-in.

Walk in rounds ’til you’re sick.

Don’t wonder ’bout breaking out.

Fighting instinct’s tragic!

Monkey swing across the bars.

Monkey blind. Monkey sad.

If you’re mere biology,

Existing should make you glad.

Monkey swing…

…Monkey fall.

K. Aldaya, 9/11/19

Picture: By: Chris Yang on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/4CZ4lZGX53g

486. The Interminable Case of the Delirious Detective

For me, life is a problem which needs to be solved.

A mistake which needs righting.

A misstep to be resolved.

Howe’er it seems the rest of the world can’t agree,

On whether I’m sleep deprived,

Or am simply crazy.

Whatever is said, I can not help how I feel.

I wish I could be content,

And accept the appeal.

Yet to me, it all feels wrong, damaged, and bizarre.

A puzzle missing pieces.

A beauty with a scar.

A scar: I can’t ignore the pain inflicted there.

Maybe that makes me crazy,

But I can not help but care.

Life is a problem that I want to figure out,

Though no matter how much thought,

I am only left with doubt.

For there is no solution. No answer to right…

The wrongs of existence,

Or bring meaning to light.

Life: It is a problem which needs to be solved, for me,

To be able to get some sleep at night;

So rather, I write on tirelessly,

For insight.

K. Aldaya, 8/22/19

Picture: By: Lai Man Nung on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/6Ptwy-nDnoE

484. Cornermen

photo-1559807232-7adaa1c756b7

No one needs you to fight for them.

They need you in their corner.

When they’re knocked down, and can’t get up,

And a loss is almost sure;

When they fear to get back up.

They need you to notice and stay.

To be there no matter what.

Who needs a friend who disappears,

When they get their deepest cut;

When they’re on the ground in tears.

They need you to simply care.

It’s really as facile as that.

Fighters need good corners there,

To help them up from the mat.

To tend to the wounds, but mostly,

To remind them they’ve got fight.

That they’ve got this. That they are strong.

That emotions are not trite…

Over-dramatic, or wrong;

Because falling is not failing,

And needing others isn’t weak.

For life knocks us all down sometimes,

Making us feel small and meek.

Everyone needs help sometimes.

No one needs you to fight for them.

They need you in their corner.

There are victories and defeats,

And oft’times a loss is sure.

Victories may fill the seats,

Yet losses are the surest way,

To assess how brave we are.

The only way to learn and grow,

Is to get out there and spar.

For struggle is not hollow.

Every person should feel assured.

That no matter where or when.

They’ll get through each imminent fight,

Thanks to their cornermen.

K. Aldaya, 8/3/19

Picture: By: Dan Burton on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/vuZi5zk5W-A

478. The Elsewhere

In the stillness of night she leaves,

The world and time behind.

She slips out of her bones,

And deep into her mind;

Where dream and reality meet, and,…

Breath upon breath create,…

Life, in desolation.

Feeling’s merely innate.

A door appears, she touches the knob,

And turns it, but slightly.

With a click, it opens.

She enters and closes it tightly.

Within is shelter, and protection;

Lost,…misplaced from the start.

Yearning becomes misery,

When men forget the heart.

Would you seek and pull her out from there?

Would you tell her she’s wrong?

That she’s better off staying,

And just suffering along?

For who knows what the answer should be,

To loss and sentiment.

If time can’t be rewound,

Should love and safety remain absent?

In the stillness of night she leaves,

To find what can not be.

Life is not fair they say,

And nothing is for free.

So, do not judge as she slips away,

Out of her bones and mind.

Oft’ we must seek elsewhere,

That which we’ve yet to find.

K. Aldaya, 5/25/19

Picture: By Sam Burriss on Unsplash; https://themighty.com/2017/10/how-to-help-dissociative-episode/

473. Everyone Picks a Side

I wonder why I question why?

My whole life…over and over I try,

To understand, and bridge the gap,

‘Tween truth and lie;

But it’s all a trap.

When truth is found, it’s rarely heard;

And when lies drift, ears hear every word.

It’s not a question of wrong or right,

Rather what’s most absurd,

Is brought to light.

It’s been said that for evil to exist,

Good men must do nothing,…and insist,

That, “It’s best to just stay out of it”.

Yet if men want good to persist,

They can not simply ignore it.

If you speak, or not, you make…

A choice, for yours, or anothers’ sake.

There is no way to stay out of this,

For every person has a stake;

An opportunity to miss.

I wonder why I question why?

My whole life…over and over I try,

To understand why people look away,

And hold on tightly to every lie;

When all they have to do is play….

Rather than watch from the sidelines;

‘Til all is lost,…and then walk away.

K. Aldaya, 4/30/19

472. The Carousel

carousel-gif-10

In the carnival of life,

I ride a carousel;

And every seat is full,

As it starts with the bell.

On each horse there sits,

A rider that I know.

Yes, all of them are me;

And all of us must go…

In circles, as we watch the world,

Float by in a blur;

Until the bell rings again,

And we lose a passenger.

One gets off and tries to leave,

But a tether holds them there.

They watch as people pass on by,

And sing out: “Life’s unfair”.

Then the bell, it dings again,

As they go back to their seat,

Thinking: “Life’s chiefly a picture book,

With faces we can not meet”.

Spinning and spinning and spinning…

The world goes round and round.

No, it is not living,

When you can’t stay on the ground.

In the carnival of life.

I ride a carousel.

I wish I could just leave this place,

But the mind is it’s own hell.

K. Aldaya, 4/16/19

Picture: https://gifimage.net/carousel-gif-10/

468. Step By Step

…And step by step all the birds in the sky,…

Fly by…fly by…

…And hour by hour the hands of the clock,…

Tic-tok…tic-tok…

…And day by day, time flies on and away,…

Away…away…

…And year by year there’s death, then birth,…

On Earth…on Earth…

…And why on why, thoughts built on and on,…

Then gone…then gone…

…And step by step all the birds in the sky…

Fly by……..

Fly by………….

K. Aldaya, 2/19/19

Gif: From Giphy. Original Source: http://radicalblogofawesomeness.blogspot.com/2011/03/shadow-puppets.html?m=1

467. Self-Deception

If you start by believing that something can’t happen,

Then everything becomes a lie.

If you start by believing certain thoughts can’t exist,

Then everyone becomes a liar.

If you start by believing in one perception,…

Well, it’s said there’s no liar like self-deception;

So, why’s everyone else in the fire?

K. Aldaya, 2/18/19

461. This is Your Life!

Society wants to throw us away.

“You do not matter”, that’s what they say.

If you ask for some help to get by.

Everyone questions: “What?”…”But why?”.

Society wants to throw us away.

“You are a burden”, that’s what they say.

If you can not hold down a job,

“You are a terrible, lazy, fat-slob!”.

Society wants to throw us away,

“You are worth nothing”, that’s what they say.

Well, you know what? Who cares what they say!

Why should their words matter anyway?

Were they there when you cried on your bed.

Would they care at all if you lost your head?

If you said you couldn’t live anymore,

Would any of them come to your door?

Society wants to throw us away.

“You do not matter”, that’s what they say.

Well, guess what? Who cares what they say!

Whose life is this anyway?

No, not theirs…today’s your day!

“Your life matters!”,…

That’s what I say!

K. Aldaya, 11/12/18

Picture: https://sexandrelationshiphealing.com/blog/sexual-abuse-sexual-shame-and-sexual-addiction/

460. Autumn Reverie

The leaves, they always danced for me,

Like ghosts at a haunted ball;

Maybe that’s why I always went,

For walks more in the Fall.

The ghosts seemed almost happy then,

As they drifted to and fro;

And I wondered if it was all for me,

Or they had some place to go?

Either way, it made me smile,

As they pranced across the ground;

Spinning the leaves in circles ,

As I lightly skipped around.

I liked to think they knew that I,

Thought about them often;

And perhaps they were smiling too,

To know not all of the world had forgotten.

For there they were, and there I was,

And although we could not touch.

I felt them, and they felt me,

And though it may not account for much…

The leaves, they always danced for me,

Like ghosts at a haunted ball,

And I’ve always been invited,

To attend each festive fall.

And dance, and smile, not just for me,…

….but for us all.

K. Aldaya, 11/5/18

Picture: http://wallpaperswide.com/autumn_walk-wallpapers.html

459. Keep on Moving

Keep on moving, moving, moving.

Fate is cruel,

And worth reproving.

Keep on trying, trying, trying.

Life’s unjust,

There’s no denying.

Keep on going, going, going.

The point:…

There’s no way of knowing.

Keep on fighting, fighting, fighting;

Be it by pen,

Then keep on writing.

K. Aldaya, 10/30/18

Picture: https://www.theodysseyonline.com/passion-is-where-the-power-is

458. Runaway

My body fights while my mind runs away.

How can I get it to stop running, and stay?

My body, it lives, though my mind…it plays dead;

And quite convincingly, acts as brainless instead.

You do not know me…as I am not there.

I hide and you do not notice or care.

You call me a moron for being unaware;

As I run further away in despair.

What can I do? And what can I say?

To make my restless, broken soul stay?

I look out, trapped behind my eyes,

And it’s no longer me who hurts or cries.

My body fights while my mind runs away;

Though sometimes I wonder…why should it stay?

K. Aldaya, 10/25/18

Picture: http://discovermagazine.com/2012/jul-aug/05-ways-to-leave-your-body

451. Freak of Nature

You look at me like I’m a wall…about to crumble.

You step back…once…twice…always,

Then turn away while I rumble…

And fall to pieces.

You look at me like I’m a dam…about to rupture;

Then you tell me to be strong,

As you gossip ’bout my structure…

And I flood and drown.

You look at me like I’m a storm…about to transpire.

You run as far as you can;

And as my footing becomes dire…

I up and vanish.

Yes, I’m the freak of nature everyone passes by.

I tumbled down. I sank beneath. I blew into the sky.

No, No one ever said: “closer”…

They just waved goodbye.

K. Aldaya, 8/1/18

Picture: https://pixabay.com/en/alone-walking-night-people-city-764926/

450. Villains

In the story of my life,

You are the villains;

The plotters. The schemers. The bringers of strife.

You praise your heroism,

In dealing with me,

While pointing out flaws and enacting schisms.

You would only have loved me,

If I’d have earned it;

For you praise the motto: “Nothing is for free”.

You hold out expectant hands,

Awaiting some gold.

Oh, how is it not one of you understands?

I shouldn’t need earn the right,

To be loved like you.

Existing does not need a permit you write.

I’m sure you’d act shocked to find,

You’re drowning in sins.

Yet, of course you will all pay no nevermind.

After all, you are the villains.

K. Aldaya, 7/13/18

Picture: https://www.pexels.com/photo/attractive-beautiful-beauty-black-and-white-594421/

442. Into the Sea

Once upon a time there were two men born out at sea,

And though began on different ships; Each stared down their destiny.

As sailors are want to do, by time, or just sore luck,

They fell into the churning sea when a raging storm had struck.

They both knew of the Isle nearby. All the sailors knew it well.

The Isle where they were headed, ‘fore their ships sank ‘neath the swell.

The Isle was where wealthy men built mansions out of gold,

And lived in luxury and peace; Ah, truly a sight to behold!

If only they could reach that place. They knew life would be grand.

They looked at the stars that night, and oriented themselves toward land.

One man had a mile to swim. The other: nine miles more;

Though both set off with conviction, to live and reach that shore.

The first man soon made it there, and lived until old age.

He wrote books, and sculpted art; And his story is now ‘all the rage’.

The second man: he drowned at sea, less than a mile from shore.

He’d fought hard and long for those nine miles,…likely harder then any man before.

Yet sailors tell his morose tale over drinks and platitudes;

Laughing at his misfortune with disparaging attitudes.

“What’s the meaning of success? What does it mean to fail?”,

One man asked as he sat down to converse o’er another round of ale.

“You may say the first man is clearly the success.

For he made it to the Isle, and lived in grandeur and excess.

Yet, the first man only swam one mile….so is success really the case?

Is success the result of outcomes, or is it more about the race?

For I wonder why the second man, who swam for eight miles more,

And didn’t give up for those nine miles, is a failure for not reaching shore?

He may have never reached the Isle. He may have died too young.

Howe’er he lived and fought far longer, then that man on societies’ tongue.

The man who swam the further…who fought until his last,…

Is he not the man who succeeded the most?

For in the end, all men’s ‘die are cast’…

Into the sea.”

K. Aldaya, 6/9/18

Picture: Artist:? http://picturefordesktop.com/stormy-sea-images-desktop-wallpaper/

441. PTSD

The world is so busying telling me,

How I should feel and who I should be,

That it’s never, even once, stopped to think,

Whether I’m not exactly who I’m meant to be.

Maybe I will never be like you.

Maybe I’m not supposed to.

Maybe asking me to be something else,

Is the reason I can’t get through.

Maybe I would be okay,

If the world accepted what’s different.

Though, no matter how accepting it claims to be,

Some of us leave too much of an imprint.

We make a mess. Stand out too much.

Cops trail us and build up a case.

“It’s odd you were at the crime scene,

Even odder that your prints were all over the place!

Guilty by association, my child.

You’re guilty for showing-up: time and again.

You’re a victim, but perhaps an accomplice as well.

Did you not know it would drive you insane?

Now you are just as responsible.

Only criminals return to the crime!

You could have been normal…like us,

Instead, you’ve wasted this courts precious time.”

Yet, if we may speak to this court, sir.

We feel guilty and shameful each day,…

That we haven’t moved on…couldn’t move on…

And fell down, and apart, and astray.

We didn’t know how. We still don’t know now,

How to escape from that place,

Though if we could one day do so,

As you’ve stated, we’ve already left our trace;

A trace of guilt. A trace of our crimes,…

Of guilt by association.

No matter what we may say to these crimes,

The world will ne’er forgive the implication.

The implication that we are criminals.

That not being like you. Not living like you,

Is a bloody-bed of our own making;

For there’s only acceptance for crimes you live through,

But ones which stay, fester, and remain,

Which turn us wretched, and drive us insane,

Are the ones which society won’t accept.

And refuse to consider,…o’erlooking the brain.

Yes, the world is so busy telling me,

How I should feel and who I should be,

Yet has it ever wondered why we’re not free,

To be who life has made us to be?

No, I am not like you or them,

And no, I will never be in the end;

Though just because I am different,

Must I be rejected ’til the end?

Placed up on trial again, and again to defend…

Why I am the way I am?

I’m a lifetime of sounds and sights you can’t see.

Yet, men like to spurn what they don’t understand,

And charge for the crime of PTSD.

K. Aldaya, 5/23/18

440. Presence

We reach out for purpose,

Cutting through time like a knife.

Surveying each step with elation,

As if God’s creating life.

Are we more than rotting thoughts,

And orbiting electrons in atoms?

If I stand still or take one more step,

Will it really change any outcomes?

I want to believe in more than this.

In more than my petty musings.

Yet, despite my wish for my words to remain,

I can’t cease their death by refusing.

If I write, or walk, or take a step,

Or if I choose to protest.

There will still be something there to lose,

Whether idle or over-obsessed.

So, I reach out for purpose,

Whether it cuts me in it’s course;

For despite my ruminations,

Presence is an unstoppable force.

K. Aldaya, 5/22/18

Picture: Original Source Unknown; http://keywordsuggest.org/gallery/129704.html

436. “We”

We work in the shadows with an air of civility,

Dropping the pants of a world undisclosed;

Where eyes vilify the skirted and clothed,

For breeding the sins of the overexposed.

We move softly in the shadows eclipsed by “the unsaid”.

With the weight of morality on our backs.

We amend with checks and our very souls,

As we drift namelessly, and fall through the cracks.

We’re the shame and mortification of being alive.

Our breasts, and sex, are man’s nature denied.

Shunned from the sun and logical discourse;

The raw…the real…the gospel lost inside…

Mirrors heedless of reflection.

K. Aldaya, 4/13/18

Picture: http://www.harbus.org/2018/what-women-want/

434. Creation

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Place your feet and ripple out into the universe,

Crafting new waves through space which disperse…

Reverberations of existence, and worlds beyond,

The span of human thought and vision.

Utter in mere mortal words…in your tongues, resonate;

Through the endless ocean which time creates.

Drift distantly…afar from transient flesh and bone.

Pervade and imprint thoughts into life.

K. Aldaya, 4/8/18

Picture: http://www.freehdimages.in/wallpaper/desktop-real-images-of-the-planet-saturn-download/

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

414. You Do Not Have to Die

I didn’t want to die when I swallowed all those pills.

I didn’t want to die when I climbed those lofty hills.

I didn’t want to die when I tied that rope on tight.

I didn’t want to die when I climbed that towers’ height.

I didn’t want to die when I loaded that old gun.

I didn’t want to die, yet what is done, is done.

I swallowed all those pills, and climbed those lofty hills;

And tied that rope on tight, and jumped off from that height.

And I loaded that old gun, for there wasn’t anyone,…to say:

“You do not have to die! It doesn’t have to be this way.”

I see you there with all those pills. I see you climbing hills.

I see that you purchased that rope and have no sense of hope.

I see that you are walking up the stairs to the top.

I see that gun, “Put it down. Put it down. Stop!”

You do not have to die, my friend.

This should not be your end.

I see you. I see you…and all that pain within you.

Please put down those pills, and walk beyond those hills.

Unknot that rope. There’s still hope. There’s still hope!

Lay down that gun, and in the morn we’ll watch the sun,…

As it peeks o’er the line ‘tween night and day,

We’ll sit and watch the start of another earthly day;

And laugh, and cry, and hope together,

Under the ethereal clouds we gather,…

And fashion into dreams.

K. Aldaya, 10/4/17

Picture: https://www.wallpaperflare.com/brown-rocky-mountain-during-sunrise-photo-rophaien-wallpaper-17362

413. Tempus Edax Rerum

tumblr_m08aubmthW1r3a6jho1_500

Time devours all things,

And life leads but to death,

Yet in your arms a lifetime’s…

Inhaled, in one breath.

Time devours all things,

And we are but one course,

Yet in one kiss, the soul…

Returns to it’s true source.

Time devours all things;

It’s flow is definite.

Ticking on forever…

So we make use of it.

Here.

Now.

Our love is infinite.

K. Aldaya, 8/30/17

Picture: Original Artist Unknown; http://weheartit.com/entry/24111142; http://littlepawz.tumblr.com/post/18572611002/love-is-the-enchanted-dawn-of-every-heart

412. In the Horizon

Pacific_Sunset_Pismo_Beach_California

Tangerine-seas quench my day-parched soul,

With the hope that maybe tomorrow,

Will find it new and whole.

As the sun descends and light fades out,

I inhale deeply of it’s sweetness,

And expunge any doubt.

For the night is coming…time to sleep,

And dream of new, better tomorrows,

Yet, first I’ll drink and weep,

For the yesterday which burns away…

In the horizon.

K. Aldaya, 8/25/17

Picture: http://wallpaperweb.org/wallpaper/nature/pacific-sunset-pismo-beach-california_40871.htm

 

408. Where is Hope?

Hope-May Spring went outside to sing,

And play among the flowers.

Her days were spent frolicking,

And dancing ‘way the hours,

In the sun.

One day she walked upon the stage,

To sing her song aloud.

She stepped bravely across the stage,

And sang out strong and proud:

Joyously.

Applause rang out through the room,

And Hope-May was o’erjoyed,

To have touched hearts within that room,

Her smile could not avoid…

Joining in.

Joy can’t last forever though,

And no story is so kind,

For as soon as it was time to go,

Her mother voiced her mind:

“Not the worst”.

Strangers praised her performance,

Yet her mother looked on sternly.

Her songs could never seem to dance,

Their way in mother’s heart to free…

Approval.

Through the years she heard no praise;

Nor laud. Nor compliment.

And soon she felt her mother’s gaze,

Was always there and sent…

Shivers down.

Ah, that voice was always there.

Always echoing: “Never enough!”,

Until the joy she used to share,

Sang out soft and gruff;

And empty.

Her joy, her mother ate it all;

Served with criticism and jeers.

Hope-May ate the meals all,

And swallowed down her tears…

In silence.

Hope-May Spring used to sing.

It’s said she sang quite well;

Though now she does not like to sing,

Nor does she ever tell…

Of her heart.

Though sometimes she dreams secretly,

Of those days so long ago,

When her heart was given joyously,

And hope could freely flow;

From her veins.

Hope-May Spring will sometimes sing,

And smile vacantly;

Though if you listen to her sing,

You’ll hear a sad and desperate plea:

“Where is Hope?”.

K. Aldaya, 7/13/17

402. Wildflowers

In the house upon the hill,

Where the wildflowers bloom;

There upon that hill,

Floats a murky gloom,

Stifling human will,

In the presence of swift doom.

In the house resides,

A world unto its’ own,

Where each man goes and hides,

Their every sigh and moan,

Away from judging eyes;

And that piercing undertone.

Can’t you hear it ringing?

Ringing, day and night…

Like a bee which keeps on stinging,

And causes lasting fright;

Through the air it’s winging,

Bearing pains no man can right.

Seek the house upon the hill,

Gray and worn with age,

For there upon that hill,

Is a safe and lasting cage,

Where you may hide until,

You lose the pain and outrage.

The inside walls are white and cold,

Lacking empathy or affection,

And once inside it takes a-hold;

Your soul feels deep rejection,…

Though as you will be told,

“It’s all for your own protection!”

In the house upon the hill,

The wildflowers are in bloom,

And are much too wild in will,

So confined to their room,

And told they must hold still,

Or growth will be their doom.

For flowers have a way,

Of drawing bees and such,

And when they bloom one day,

They draw abuse and touch;

The only other way,

Is to never live too much.

Hide in the house on the hill,

Where wildflowers bloom;

For there upon that hill,

They will lock you in your room,

And take away your free will,

‘Til the day you’re placed in the tomb.

K. Aldaya, 6/26/17

*For all those whose beauty was locked away in this life. RIP.

Picture: http://www.wildlifephotographytips.com/black-and-white-flower-photography.html

401. No One Likes an Ending

No one likes an ending.

No one likes to cry.

No one likes to hold the hand,

Of someone who will die.

No one likes an ending.

Endings are always sad.

No one likes to think about,

The time that one soul had.

No one likes an ending.

The unsurety. The change.

No one likes to say goodbye,

And face the new and strange.

No one likes an ending.

No one likes to cry.

No one likes to think about,

How all things must one day die…

–To make way for future birth.

Everyone likes beginnings.

Beginnings are always glad.

Everyone likes to laugh and love,

So please do not be sad.

No one likes an ending,

But endings clear the way,

For new things to bear,

The hopes of each yesterday…

–Ever onward, toward the future.

K. Aldaya, 6/24/17

Picture: http://www.grandparents.com/family-and-relationships/family-matters/teaching-grandfather-to-hug

392. Identity

160607092327-euro-2016-tournament-in-france-dark-horses-00000920-full-169

Who am I in this moment?

Well that depends on who you ask.

I am many different people,

Each with their own personal task.

How does one get anything done,

With so many different plans;

And so little time to work at them,

Before they will change hands?

Then off toward another goal,

Weaving through the field of mind,

Where players with their set positions,

Have their own goals in kind.

Tell me who I really am.

I bet you think you know!

Yet if you knew me at all,

You’d see I both come and go.

The game of life moves me,

Up and down the field.

In confusion getting nowhere,

Stuck eternally mid-field.

I see the goal right there,

And sometimes get quite near,

Only to find myself mid-field,

With another goal I fear.

Who am I in this moment?

I’m afraid that you will find.

I’m not the “one” you thought I was,

Rather “many”, in one mind.

K. Aldaya, 4/15/17

Picture: From CNN.com; http://edition.cnn.com/2016/06/11/football/euro-2016-switzerland-albania/

383. The Soul is a Symphony

sunny field

I wonder what people will say of me,

When I am finally gone?

Will they praise me for my honesty,

Or say that I was wrong?

Will they love my naked words,

Or loathe me as a whore?

Will they understand my words,

And why I always had to say more?

Will they say that I was sick,

Or plain and simply: pessimistic?

Will they think that’s all that made me tick?

That I was never optimistic?

After all is said and done,

I hope no one will ever say,

That I never cherished even one…

Earthly human day.

No one can help or change their path;

It is theirs to walk alone.

You’ll never understand that path;

The only path I’ve ever known.

Yet one thing I must make quite clear…

I crawled, lived, and fought;

And as much as I bore pain and fear,

Love is what I sought.

Beauty is more beautiful,

And happiness more divine,

When you know just how rare and wonderful,

It is to feel the sunshine.

To see flowers bloom each spring.

To watch children smile and glow,

And know that despite everything,

Love continues to nurture and grow.

I wonder what people will think of me,

When I am finally gone.

I hope they’ll realize how fully,

I felt and lived each dawn.

–For the soul is a symphony, not a song.

K. Aldaya, 1/20/17

Picture: https://w-dog.net/wallpaper/mood-girl-a-woman-hair-silhouette-loneliness-thought-meditation-of-mind-the-field-flower-flowers-flower-sunset-sun-night-background-wallpaper-widescreen-full-screen-widescreen-hd-wallpapers-background/id/348657/

377. Yin and Yang

thumb-1920-152076

I know you think I’m weak,

And those who “feel” are pitiful.

So I’ve often felt like a freak,

For simply being me.

Yet as I’ve grown older,

I’ve become much more aware,

That those whose hearts are colder,

Are much more pitiful.

A life lived on the path.

‘Tween pure bliss and despair,

May be a smoother path;

Though leads the soul nowhere.

Souls grow in sagacity,

Through the beauty and the pain.

Grow stronger on a rougher sea,

Or steep and winding road.

With ups and downs we learn,

What’s truly of worth.

With every dip and turn,

We learn to persevere.

Depth is seen as weakness,

And shallowness as divine.

Society praises emptiness…

As close to godliness.

Those who disagree: “Insane.”

“Their emotions are showing!”

“A symptom of a faulty brain,

Wandering on dangerous paths.”

I don’t care anymore what’s said,

I’d rather struggle and fight,

Ever braver in what lies ahead,

Then to fear being “too much”.

My soul is not a coward,

And my heart and mind fight on.

I do not fear love or discord,

They are borne in equal measure.

K. Aldaya, 12/19/16

Picture: By Mario Wibisono; https://wall.alphacoders.com/unregistered.php?id=624 https://wall.alphacoders.com/big.php?i=152076

375. The Noose

Once set into motion life continues unimpeded.

The bond of prophecy self-fulfilled,

Becomes the noose of the defeated.

giphy12345

You may struggle and the noose grow tighter: restricting breath…

Or calmly hold your hands to the line,

In-between desperation and death.

K. Aldaya, 11/26/16

Picture: Originally Posted on thedeadhasrisin.tumblr.com; http://giphy.com/gifs/sad-boy-depressed-wOKFDNYyjqfBK;

371. Inertia

12482098813_d4d73db61f_b

Nightmares are only reverse dreams,

And ghosts are merely shadows.

Memories are just vivid streams,

Of self-perceptioned scenes.

Dreams are only reverse nightmares,

And shadows are merely ghosts.

Memories are the eyes which stare,

Deep down into our souls.

Phantoms haunt, and memories hurt;

And nightmares destroy dreams….

While time ticks on and on: inert,

To what we tell ourselves.

K. Aldaya, 9/25/16

Picture: Scene Capture from “Pretty Little Liars”; http://www.afterellen.com/tv/209853-pretty-little-liars-recap-4-19-shadow-play/3

369. Ember

4-30

Here I am just like a child,

Again I feel the pain.

Our hearts are just too wild,

To be contained.

They feel too deep…

Feel too much;

They pull us to and fro.

Hearts recall, and with such…

Fervor and fire!

The past we wish to forget,

Yet our hearts beat to the echoes,

Of pasts filled with regret,

And pointless suffering.

Our hearts always remember,

And the body never forgets.

A persevering, igneous ember,

Left from the fires of youth.

K. Aldaya, 9/22/16

Picture: Originally posted on Tumblr by twerkingtothebaxterbuilding; https://giphy.com/gifs/fire-hand-flame-83QhSF6YdWGIM

367. Savage

barefoot-running-girl

I am a savage.

I remember my days in the jungle.

The feel of mud ‘tween my toes.

The rush of adrenaline,

From head to toe.

Blood raging to win.

I am a savage.

I remember my nights under the moon.

The feel of winds blowing over,

The heavy lids of the earth,

Falling to cover.

In death is rebirth.

I am a savage.

I remember my days on the Earth.

The feel of dust and thirst.

The yearning to drink and feast.

Devoured or nursed.

Nothing but a beast.

K. Aldaya, 9/18/16

Picture: Original Source Unknown; http://sscinnovate.blogspot.com/2013/06/review-barefoot-minimalist-and-forefoot.html

337. Just So You Know

B_VmGxjXEAA9MaI

Just so you know, my life matters too.

I may not be rich or know high people,

Yet I think I should have the chance to do,

Whatever I want to.

Just so you know, my life matters as well.

I may not have some great job or position,

Yet I think I should have the chance to tell…

You, to go to hell.

Just so you know my life matters also.

I may not be like or think like you,

Yet I’m not going to kowtow.

You’re not my king you know!

Just so you know, my life matters too.

I may be poor and no one special,

Yet I want to be someone who,

Gets to live life too.

K. Aldaya, 3/9/16

Picture: Street Art on Twitter; https://twitter.com/googlestreetart/status/573476917074116608

313. Eternal Light

underwater-sunlight-takau99

The light streams down,

And reaches out to me,

Like the hand of a God,

Painting destiny.

Oh, what I would do,

To reach and clasp that light!

The touch of heaven on skin:

Warm and ember-bright.

If only I had wings,

I’d fly into the sky,

To destiny, immortality,

On an etheric lullaby.

The light shines down,

And reaches out to me,

And though I sink, I sing,

And it ripples,…into eternity.

K. Aldaya, 7/24/15

Picture: takau99: https://www.flickr.com/photos/thailandbeach/; http://fineartamerica.com/featured/underwater-sunlight-takau99.html

304. Lunatic Hours

Red Clock Eyes Wallpaper

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Listen up and listen quick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

He’s a raving lunatic.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Life’s a crazy horror-flick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Lock the door with a *click*.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Choices: Which will you pick?

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Every choice will make you sick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Skin is thin and blood is thick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

You want to know his little trick?

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Slit your wrists and make it quick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Death, it hates a lunatic.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Lunatics are pretty slick.

Tic. Tic. Tic.

Death can’t kill a lunatic.

Tic. Tic.

‘Cause they’re already dead…

Tic.

K. Aldaya, 5/9/15

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.wallpaperseries.com/girls/red-clock-eyes-wallpaper.html

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

252. It’s Okay

Sunny-day1

It’s okay not to be happy.

It’s okay, my child.

Tomorrow the sun will rise again,

And hearts will again run wild;

Beating up and down the streets.

Flowing through the hours,

O’er-rushing with dreams of cakes and sweets,

And fields of endless flowers.

So it’s okay to cry and be sad.

It’s okay, my child.

Tomorrow the sun will rise again,

And yes, you will have smiled!

K. Aldaya, 9/4/13

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://extremelongevity.net/wp-content/uploads/Sunny-day1.jpg

247. Soar Higher

tiny_dancer_by_insanelaurenjane-d5tqlbr

Into the world my child, she flies…,

Away and soars; but I am scared.

Will she be safe and always wise?

Did I teach her everything,

She needs to touch the skies?

And can I trust the world which I’ve never trusted?

To care for and protect one of my dearest treasures?

World of people through whose acts I am disgusted.

Who poisoned my heart until it broke and rusted.

Yet even I cannot protect,

Her, or him, or I from this life.

Control: an illusion’s inject,

So life we do not from the start reject.

If we thought about how each moment is taken,….

Stolen right in front of our eyes: so we close them;

We’d go crazy or mad, and sickness awaken.

So we say:  “Reasons are not godforsaken!”.

Whether there’s meaning to it all,

I know not and I dare not say.

I only know what’s to fear therewithal.

I pray she’ll be able to fly when in fall!

—-praying:  “Don’t be like me…., Please don’t end up like me at all!”

K. Aldaya, 8/6/13

Picture: “Tiny Dancer” by insanelaurenjane at Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Tiny-Dancer-352280439

245. Why Do I Want to Live?

girl-loneliness-roof-Favim.com-464660_large

Why do I want to live when life has no point?

Why do I want to live when all I do is disappoint?

Why do I want to live when death is the only goal?

Why do I want to live when I’m not even sure I have a soul?

Why do I want to live?

I will tell you why.

Because I exist and it’s all that I know.

Because I don’t want to lie…..

Silenced forever in a grave when I die.

Why do I want to live when I’ll die anyway someday?

Because I’m afraid and hope to be stronger one day;

So when death greets me I’ll smile and say,

“I’m ready to be on my way!”

K. Aldaya, 7/25/13

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/464660/

205. Freedom to Fall

top_of_the_world_by_emerald_depths-d59vdo6

Years ago I wrote…

Wrote of emptiness;

And though I do not quote,

I find hence no progress.

Not that I have or not,

Still carried on in same,

I only know that I cannot,

Continue to stay-on the same.

I laugh at you,

You laugh at me,

Consummating not, with felicity.

I love, am loved I,

As may be merely dreamed,

By mortals daft as I,

Under the skies the ancients’ streamed.

I know and know not,

How to seek out my own,

How to love when I am not,

Clasp strength when I’m alone.

Fear holds me in,

And comfort holds me out,

And my face in the mirror’s but a shell of self-doubt.

I am but a love and a hope,

For the world of tomorrow,

And conquests I elope,

As mine in joy and sorrow.

I may be not, and I may be all,

But the beauty comes,

In the freedom to fall.

K. Aldaya, 12/10/06

Picture:  “Top of the World” by Emerald-Depths (Danielle) on Deviant Art: http://emerald-depths.deviantart.com/; http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2012/217/5/5/top_of_the_world_by_emerald_depths-d59vdo6.png