518. Underground

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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

517. Empty Graves Without Name

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There is a tall castle,

It looks lovely from the top.

The tower is inviting,

So passersby often go up;

To see the sea of green,

And to the fae, raise bounteous cup.

However, this castle,

Is a most sprawling domain,

With levels and rooms galore;

Though no one wanders without aim,

As each window and door,

Is locked with keys of their own name.

And each key rests below,

In the haunted dungeon halls,

Where the screams of yesterdays,

Still echo through the walls themselves;

And the terrors from those days,

Remain undusted on its’ shelves.

Thence, who would travel forth,

To seek out the truths within?

When blue skies are so pleasant;

And nature moves in expansion,

Adorning the present….

Burying tales without description.

Empty graves, without name.

K. Aldaya, 5/18/20

Picture: Originally by Evan Mitchell on Flickr;
https://wallpaperscraft.com/download/mask_bw_monochrome_124766/3840×2400

500. The Useless

No one cares if you live in darkness,

Because they get to live in the light;

And sometimes I’m bitter, and it hurts my eyes,

To be hidden in misunderstandings and lies.

And sometimes I wish I could find and steal,

A little light to know how they all must feel;

So when it shines in their eyes they will know,

I’ve escaped their ignorance and ego.

For a moment, I hope they get a glimpse of the pain,

Of groping through life with the label “insane”.

Squinting, erratic, and lost.

Tell me society: What is the cost?

Is it so hard to turn on a light?

To invite truth, and do what is right?

Instead, they all go ’bout their day,

And blame the blinded for not finding their way.

For no one cares if you live in darkness,

‘Cause they get to live in the light.

Maybe one day it will all get too bright…

For them to face themselves, and address,

The loss and suffering, so useless…

…so useless….so useless….

K. Aldaya, 12/19/19

Picture: By Javier Garcia on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/J3sivicMj8Y

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/

496. Stained

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I know there is no middle ground.

Once something hidden is found,

It can not go and hide again;

And if some things aren’t tolerable then…

Not being honest means being accepted,

And being honest means being rejected.

Now it’s too late, and I’m riddled with fear.

Will I lose all that I hold dear?

I used to have nothing to lose.

Now I feel that I must choose:

Be selfish and hurt those I love,

Or be selfless and never rise above…

The pain.

Everything I touch, I stain.

K. Aldaya, 10/9/19

Picture: By Ian Espinosa on Unsplash; https://unsplash.com/photos/oXo6IvDnkqc