372. Timeless Bond

We used to be good friends and confidants,

Yet just like us, youth grows old, tired, and weary;

It changes, grows gray, and wrinkles,

In the sun of the today’s we dearly…

Cling on to.

Remember all those days spent together?

Under warm summer skies we rode bikes to the wind…

Blowing carelessly with our hopes.

Now we can’t go back. We can’t rescind…

Our choices.

Think of me some day when we’re old and gray,

And this fast world no longer pulls us to and fro.

Give me just one small little thought.

Think of when we walked side by side and go…

Fearlessly…

Toward the light…..

K. Aldaya, 9/29/16

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371. Inertia

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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

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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

338. Random Thought #14

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Today she’s so happy she just can’t describe it.

Life seems so perfect, …yet just doesn’t fit.

She comes home and looks into the mirror-land.

She’s happy and knows it, but the shadows are still at hand.

Backward through time she floats on her own,

To the home she’s outrun, where the ghosts are her own.

The walls are closing in, all around, and within.

She can’t escape from herself…

So she breaks the mirror.

K. Aldaya, ’05

Picture: Originally posted by http://zoombies-ate-my-neighbors.tumblr.com/; http://favim.com/image/2281637/

323. I’m Searching for a Memento

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I’m searching for a memento:

Something I can save,

So one day when I grow old,

I’ll remember what you gave.

I’m searching for a memory:

A thought or feeling pleasant,

Of when you were part of my life,

To sneak into the present.

I’m searching for a piece of you,

That I can hold on to;

So one day when you are gone,

I’ll still have part of you.

I’m searching for some concrete proof,

That life is truly real;

That knowing you bore some gift,

That time cannot repeal.

I’m searching for a memento,

To hang upon my lifeline;

So some day when I am old,

I can treasure every line…..

Made from smiles of remembrance.

K. Aldaya, 12/6/15

Picture: By Andre Govia on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/andregovia/9443446927/in/photostream/

320. Wash Me

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Wash me in cleansing waters.

Purify my aching brain.

Rinse out all these memories,

So I can start again.

There’s not enough water on Earth,

To wash away my shame;

The only thing it’ll wash away,

Is blood shed in my name.

Wash me in cleansing waters.

I cannot stand this pain.

My skin is burning underneath,

And it’s driving me insane.

K. Aldaya, 9/18/15

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://t-ears.tumblr.com/post/25614458678

276. Bloody Hands

alice hysteria

Red as sun-lit roses in the budding-Spring,

The pavement glistens with fresh blood,

And in my heart a piercing thorn bears the moments’ sting.

In my hand is an old-withered rag of white,

And in my soul a battlefield,

Plays a ghostly reenactment of the costly fight.

–Bloody is the rag which tries to hide a guilty soul,

Yet bloodier are the hands which clean without a rag that’s whole.

Red are these hands and the only I have known,….

Are these hands with fresh-blood dripping…

Dripping, and dripping guilt and pain; scrubbing all alone.

Blue as restless oceans crashing to the shore,

Are the tears which crash to the earth,

Never enough to clean the hands of an old child-whore.

–Red as sunlit roses in the budding-Spring,

The pavement glistens with fresh blood,

And in my heart a piercing thorn bears the moments’ sting.

K. Aldaya, 8/19/14

Picture: Inspired by American McGee’s Alice: Madness Returns; Artist Unknown; http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maly49hnQp1qkuk8lo1_500.jpg

270. The Box

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There is a box.

It sits there on a shelf in the closet.

In that box,

There is a hole,

Leading to a heart beset by its’ soul.

There is a box,

Full of dusty, forgotten histories,

Faded time,

Which haunts and seeks,

As a wintery, cold breeze;

It ebbs and piques.

There is a box,

Which stores ages’ unfaceable decrees,

In the faces.

Pictures.  Photos.

Wailing: what-cannot-be’s no one else knows.

There is a box.

It sits there on a shelf in the closet.

In that box,

There lie remnants,

Of a splintered-hearts’ kismet,

In a glance.

Can you see it?

The box of ghosts tucked away on that shelf?

Whispering….

Psst…over here…

Lie truths you hide from yourself,

And you fear.

K. Aldaya, 5/18/14

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_t1__dHwvHEI/TBhOxBIZY9I/AAAAAAAAJxs/7vv-0AzqF48/s400/IMG_5151a.jpg

244. Black & White

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Black and white.

Cold and fright.

In the dark….it’s cold.

On the face………….it’s white!

Black and white.

Cold and fright.

In the night,….the dark and light,

Give-in to the fears in flight,

From the memories: ………..black and white.

K. Aldaya, 7/24/13

Picture:  Kim JaeJoong; Photographer Unknown; http://media.tumblr.com/155765ee66440f1dc78a2fd4ebdd547b/tumblr_inline_mg07nbSWHu1qeptf3.jpg

Kim Jae Joong
Kim Jae Joong

243. Live for the Moment

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Late I lie when all are sleeping.

In my bed tossing and stressing.

I try to think not ‘gain of weeping,

But my mind won’t listen.

I cannot run from the reelings,

Of life movies inwardly playing.

Cannot stop or destroy the feelings,

Which torture yet again.

The pain of living with the truth,

Bleeds me dry, until I lie,

Closed-off and aloof;

I am the walking dead.

I long to get it out of me.

The shame and pain and memories.

There is no way, don’t you agree?

To save my soul anyway?

I could bleed it out my veins.

I could bandage and heal it,

But the truth is as long as I have veins,

The pain will be there too.

Only a moment would I find relief,

By taking care of outwardly-pain;

Then later, heal, and feel only grief,

That the mark is gone.

As I still feel the pain…didn’t heal at all!

No matter how much I bleed it’s there,

So what can I do?  I have to live or fall.

A moment longer.  A moment.

I must live for the moment or die.

Let it all out and cry.

K. Aldaya, 07/23/13

Picture:  “Rainy Night” by GMK9VII on Deviant Art; http://www.deviantart.com/art/Rainy-Night-506473363

226. The Basement is My Home

creepy_basement_by_creature_of_habit_22-d4ezhub

The basement is my home.

It haunts me when I’m away,

And chills me to the bone.

The basement is where ‘she’ lives,

And where the ‘demon’ lives.

I’ve heard dog bark at his voice;

Though near the door will never roam.

The basement is my home.

I close doors to hideaway,

But the voices won’t leave me alone.

The basement is where ‘her’ voice,

And where the voice of horror echoes;

Whispering: “I’m still here…..hear?….

Come down to my vast catacomb!

The basement is my home,

And home to silent screams.

A dark penetrating moan,

And horrid silence….a silent drone.

Frozen with fear: dead-inside,

I forever roam…..

A world of endless doors,

All leading to my basement home.

One day I’ll have to return home,

Chained for all time,

Afraid and alone.

K. Aldaya, 01/03/12

Picture: “Creepy Basement” by DevilishInk on Deviant Art; http://devilishink.deviantart.com/art/Creepy-Basement-267035411

142. Broken Toy

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Why is it when you’re near my heart becomes rigid with fear?

Your presence makes me fall back into myself with tear;

Screams descend with minds’-call.

Why is it when you’re here my life progresses disappear,

Into resonant past?

And yet I try to persevere by destroying the cast.

Why is it you appear to chaos my soul with endear?

What did you do to place the horrors of each life-year onto your aging face?

Why is it when you’re near my solitude is made severe?

–Lose everything again–

On my eyes a bloody-smear becomes a perm’nent stain.

Why is it when you’re here distant pain-memories appear?

Cannot escape them now,

Not now, or ever my dear,

For that you won’t allow!

Why is it you appear to float within the hostage-drear,

And love what you destroy?

For with murderous domineer you break your favorite toy.

K. Aldaya, 5/26/05

Picture: American McGee’s Alice 2: Madness Returns; http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m160r1FDr61qcr9a8o1_500.png

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

52. Lost to the Night

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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

4. Memories: Truths or Lies

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Oh, I remember that!

Can you not, too?

Over there I once sat!

“No you didn’t” said you.

Is the glimpse a lie?

Not real, but of dreams?

A shadow caught by an eye,

Imprinted where the mind deems?

How can we tell what is real,

When visions are softly expressed?

We have these and what we feel,

How would we know if the truth was repressed?

K. Aldaya, 4/22/03

Picture:  Photographer Unknown; http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m9tss1apr31rerjd7o1_400.jpg