I’m not a human.
At least not to you.
Outside I look human,
But inside I’m blue.
So blue you will drown,
If you look too deep.
Don’t bother to know me.
Just call me a creep!
Just push me away!
Call me names……hurt me!
Stab, kick, and break,
Until I drown in my own sea.
And as I fall down….
As I fade away…..
“She was weak and pathetic”,
That’s what you’ll say.
K. Aldaya, 05/28/13
Picture: “Drowning” by Madelaines on Deviant Art; http://madelaines.deviantart.com/art/Drowning-61567330
I don’t know why I bother.
I write. I weep, in vain.
I’ll never be able to express or convey,
What’s pounding in my brain.
I say a word or maybe two.
You’ll nod your head, “Ah yes!”,
“I understand”.
And I will nod, “Sure…yes”.
But the truth is that it angers me.
How patronizing can you be?
You know nothing of my life,
And I’m glad for it not to be!
You’ll never understand what it’s like to cry….,
Cry away years of your life.
To linger, strive, hurt, and bleed,
The blood from your own knife.
To only know that pain because,
It’s all you’ve ever known;
And never trust joy or happiness,
Forever feeling new and unknown.
But it’s my fault because I was,
Born to take a breath,….to walk.
Born a toy for everyone.
Toys don’t get to fight back or talk.
Toys are made to be used and trashed,
When all the fun is through–a waste–
Of others time and lives…
A regret. A purchase made in haste.
But as I’ve said it’s my fault,
And my place in time and guilt.
If I don’t get over it,
It’s more guilt upon guilt.
Those who damage and destroy,
They get off scott-free –no responsibility;
While I must take responsibility,
For everything which was done to me.
I know what I’m supposed to say.
I know what I should do,
But it would only be because,
I was told it’s what I should do.
I don’t believe that I’m stronger,
Or believe I’m now wiser or better.
Is this Masochism 101?
Must I learn to love pain to be better?
I know it’s not what you want to hear,
And so you may no longer listen;
But yet I still must say it because it’s the truth.
I beg you, listen!
I will never be okay and it is not okay!
I won’t lie and say it’s fine as if it never happened.
Nobody wins and there’s only destruction.
I will hurt until the end.
For a broken soul may never mend.
K. Aldaya, 03/20/13
Picture: “Broken Soul” by AndyGarcia666 on Deviant Art; http://andygarcia666.deviantart.com/art/Broken-Soul-281289269
My pain I cannot express,
Nor does it matter to try.
No one will ever see what I see,
Nor through my heart cry.
By expressions I am outcast.
By skin I am judged.
My soul, an alien, a freak,
To which I am misjudged.
Different is always punished;
No matter how it came to be.
If changed by others or made so,
Aliens deserve to die or flee.
Flee and hide away inside,
And change the form to seem,
Just as every other human being.
To live,… to survive this hellish dream.
But tell me is it really living if one must hide from everything?
K. Aldaya, 01/16/12
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/36285/
The stars on this eve,
Endless and vast, radiate;
With acceptance and light,
For whatever’s my fate.
Be it low. Be it great.
My yearning for reason,
Endlessly brings me out,
Into the darkness of night,
Seeing stars and worlds we doubt;
Though they’re always about.
Glistening in each eye,
As stars in this black-sky,
Are the flows of why….oh why?
Must I cry and die,
Alone beneath the sky?
No connections made,
Or constellations love-laid.
No compassion. Encourage.
And further lights fade;
For sore punishments paid.
Stars befriend sight,
With steady understanding.
For they know why I’m here,
Pleasant and ne’er demanding.
Never screaming nor commanding.
Stars do remind me,
Of what I truly am.
A lowly hint of glow,
Out of line with times’ program.
I sunk….then I swam.
For stars on this eve,
Endless and vast radiate,
With acceptance and light,
For what’s surely my fate,
Ever low. Never great.
K. Aldaya, 9/22/05
Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://amazingpics.net/content/Lovely%20Forests/forests%20138.jpg
In my youth I never slept,
As one of idle mind.
For children of innocence,
So soon are left behind;
To gather and to bind.
A mess of immature chaos,
Was carried from my early start.
Oh, youth should not be poisoned so,
Twisted by a blackened heart,
And dreams scattered apart.
I know not what it’s like,
To be free of my memory,
Nightmares and they intermixed,
Compounded in every degree,
By the years taken from me.
My body was the enemy.
My soul a fallen comrade,
In wars of power and control.
The armor in which I was clad,
Was made of fear…and bad.
When turmoil is your first bed,
And innocence costs you dear,
You learn to sleep alone at night,
And be at peace in the drear.
(As your side’s pierced with a spear).
So be at peace ye little ones,
When youths’ caress has left,
To comfort not within the strife,
That’s left your soul bereft.
Look beyond the theft,
As just one piece of this shattered-life.
K. Aldaya, 9/17/05
Picture: Originally on http://vodkaandvogue.tumblr.com/; Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/311870/
My Soul is a Lock Without a Key 
