454. A-part

I float away…all day…everyday.

I drift away…never stay…never stay…

The same.

I am me…”I agree”…”I agree”…

Yet,…”I disagree…I’m not free to be me…

Fully”.

I want to do…what I want to…see it through;

But, I can not do what I want to…plans fall through…

The cracks.

I am there…everywhere…and no where.

I float in the air of time in despair…neither here nor there…

A piece.

I’m only ever part of me…one me…not every me.

I always find I disagree…with me…and me…and me…

In part.

I can not stay…this way…or that way.

I drift away…never stay…never stay…

The same.

K. Aldaya, 8/12/18

Picture: Original Source Unknown; https://www.thecounsellorscafe.co.uk/single-post/2016/12/31/What-does-your-online-presence-say-about-you

398. I…I Don’t Want to Die

I…I don’t want to die.

“But you are broken, you say?

The only way to fix you,

Is for you to simply die,

And be reborn as someone new.”

I…I don’t want to die.

I know that I am broken,

And that’s all you can see;

Yet, why do I have to die,

For you to be able to love me?

I…I don’t want to die.

Do I really have no worth?

Am I something to be tossed,

And left all alone to die?

Am I truly one of the lost?

I…I don’t want to die.

I just want you to stay here;

To hold me close and tell me,

That I do not have to die,

For you to see me as worthy.

For you to be able to love me…

I…I don’t want to die.

K. Aldaya, 5/29/17

Picture: from Sherlock; http://pharlapcartoonist.tumblr.com/

395. All or Nothing

photo-1616381421618-65de1dfa0acc

The me I would have been,

I can not recall.

I don’t know the me which existed,

Before life changed it all.

I don’t remember the good times,

When things weren’t dark and cold,

Or know what to tell my child self,

Whose body is growing old.

People say, “forget the past”,

But it makes us who we are,

And I can’t changed how it’s shaped me,

Just by wishing on a star.

I have all these broken parts,

Who are still stuck in one place,

While time moves on around them,

Yet they never age in pace.

They live just as ghosts,

Haunting their old home;

They’re separated, in one place,

Surrounded and yet alone.

I don’t know how to exorcise;

To banish parts of me.

If I ever did know how though,

Which one of them would I be?

The me I would have been,

I can not recall.

The me I was, is shattered,

I’m no longer one…I am all…

…or nothing.

K. Aldaya, 5/18/17

Picture: By: Guilherme Caetano on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/S9Z72rfb1zc

388. Broken Vessel

photo-1542507815265-3e0105099f95

I had no right to refuse you,

For I had no rights at all.

You locked me within your eyes,

And from then on I was all…

You could see.

You gazed at me with doting eyes,

While you bled your victims dry.

You didn’t plan to kill me too,

And I didn’t want to die…

Just like them.

You stared into my eyes so deep.

You invaded my brain.

I became your loving home,

And you drove me insane…

With your thoughts.

Pleasure and pain you intermix.

As you love, so do you cry.

You drown me in your tears and rage,

While I lie still and try…

To go home.

Yet there’s no home to go back to,

Nor any door you cannot access.

You and I, we share this home,

And trying to escape: a hopeless…

Endeavor.

You walk these halls eternally,

And you, my fate, have judged.

The walls are made of bitter tears,

And each bloody lash is smudged…

Into bars.

I have no right to hate you,

For I have no rights at all.

You stole far down into my soul,

And from then on you were all…

That I am.

The criminal and the victim.

The loved and the lost.

The guilty and the innocent.

The vessel which you tossed…

To the side…

…broken.

K. Aldaya, 3/10/17

Picture: By: Catalin Pop on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/DL09PT4RDwA

303. Random Thought #9

What should be done about this?

This life of endless woe?

What should be done about lost souls…

Which still live?…I want to know!

Would you expect a broken tool,

To repair anything?

Then why expect a broken soul,

To do that very thing?

Yell at them all that you like.

Tell them they’re pathetic and lazy.

It doesn’t change the fact of the matter:

That they’re punished for being made crazy.

Their minds are full of rusted tools,

Which shatter and fall apart.

They haven’t the tools in there, you see,

To repair a shattered heart.

K. Aldaya, 5/7/15

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://desktopia.net/art/lost-soul-desktop-wallpaper/