270. The Box

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

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

243. Live for the Moment

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

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

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