518. Underground

help

How am I supposed to live,

When no one is willing to accept,

The entirety of my soul?

Every piece of me, broken, is swept…

Under the rug. I’ll never be whole.

How am I supposed to feel,

When society calls me a lie?

And says the face is what is real,

And not the inner voices who cry.

How am I supposed to trust,

When there’s no one fighting on my side?

I’ve learned the judge is far less cruel,

When the truth is denied,…and we hide.

I may be insane, yet I’m no fool.

How am I supposed to live,

When condemned,…buried,…forgotten?

One cannot live when they’re not free.

So I spend my days with paper and pen,

Writing my own wistful elegy,…

That no one will understand.

K. Aldaya, 6/21/20

Picture: https://www.inverse.com/article/7543-how-do-you-die-when-you-re-buried-alive

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

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

466. I Was Born to Endure Destruction

I was born to endure destruction.

It’s in my nature to survive.

My mind is not immortal,

And it fights to stay alive.

I was born to endure destruction.

When broken…I’d rebuild.

I’ve been demolished many times,

Though I have not been killed.

I was born to endure destruction.

All the pieces left: They are me,…

But you call me a liar,

And reply that, “It can’t be!”.

I was born to endure destruction.

Cracks run throughout my brain.

You may believe it can not be,

Yet those lines kept me sane.

I was born to endure destruction,

It’s in my nature to survive.

My mind is not immortal,

And it fights to stay alive.

K. Aldaya, 1/27/19

462. The Sinner

Pulled apart. I come undone.

From the start I’m forced to run.

Run from one point to another.

I am me and then the other.

Words confound. I spin in place.

I make no sound. My words: they race,…

Inside myself where they collide,

And try to escape to the outside.

Drained and weak. I grip my heart.

I can’t speak. I’m torn apart.

My heart beats, and beats, and beats,

While inside, history repeats.

Pulled apart. I come undone.

Will this fight ever be won?

For as in war, there are no winners.

There are no saints, only sinners.

K. Aldaya, 12/28/18

Picture: https://rightsinfo.org/excluded-schoolchildren-at-serious-risk-of-knife-crime-and-youth-violence/