305. Isn’t Love Challenging?

Why do you fall to meet me,

Instead of raise me up?

Should we not challenge anything,

And grow down, not up?

Wouldn’t the world be a sad sight,

If flowers never bloomed?

If their roots strangled each other,

And all of that beauty was doomed?

No one needs someone to grab them,

When they’re leaning on the edge.

What they need is someone to question,

Their decision to stand on a ledge.

Isn’t it going to be too late,

When at the edge we stand?

To be the “selves” we might have been,

If you’d tried to understand?

Shouldn’t we build each other up,

Instead of just standing here?

Wouldn’t we be the best of ourselves,

If we stopped idling in fear?

K. Aldaya, 5/17/15

GIF: Original Source Unknown; http://rebloggy.com/post/gif-love-girl-sad-lonely-beautiful-awesome-vintage-hurt-wonderful-alone-grunge-w/81286180650

304. Lunatic Hours

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Listen up and listen quick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

He’s a raving lunatic.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Life’s a crazy horror-flick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Lock the door with a *click*.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Choices: Which will you pick?

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Every choice will make you sick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Skin is thin and blood is thick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

You want to know his little trick?

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Slit your wrists and make it quick.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Death, it hates a lunatic.

Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.

Lunatics are pretty slick.

Tic. Tic. Tic.

Death can’t kill a lunatic.

Tic. Tic.

‘Cause they’re already dead…

Tic.

K. Aldaya, 5/9/15

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://www.wallpaperseries.com/girls/red-clock-eyes-wallpaper.html

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/

302. Gothic

The beauty of the universe,

Is truly a sight to behold.

There is joy to be found in many places,

And if I could be so bold…

I’d say: Beauty has many faces.

Even in the darkest of nights,

When shadows traverse the planet,

The universe is seen more dazzling and pure;

And all the stars which span it,

Only the darkness can confer.

True beauty is not found skin-deep.

Things which on the surface may seem,

Dark and depressing or freakish and bizarre,

May be just the things which beam,

And bare the most enchanting star.

You shouldn’t reject out of hand,

The beauty which lies in the dark.

You may find you’ve missed, what in life, is most grand:

Something which shines in the dark!

You may miss a new stars’ first spark.

K. Aldaya, 4/26/15

Picture: Interpretation of Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night by Alex Ruiz; http://images.fineartamerica.com/images-medium-large/starry-night-alex-ruiz.jpg

301. Haunted

I know you will not understand,

When I say he wants me dead.

You will never understand what it’s like,

For another to live in your head.

To cut into your flesh so deep,

They bleed into your blood;

So violently invade your skin,

That they form a crimson flood,

And break down all the barricades,

Built to protect the spirit.

And barge inside so loudly,

That it frightens all who hear it.

All the parts of you, they hide,

In other rooms and floors;

They hide for fear of being found:

Cowering behind locked doors.

For the intruder walks up and down,

The corridors and stairs,

With his knife scrapping the walls, he walks,

And through each keyhole glares.

If anyone gets out of place,

And tries to run or sneak.

He’ll hear, find, and punish them,

At the softest of a creak.

Some parts of you will try to fight,

Yet it always ends the same.

A blood-bath; as a mortal can’t win,

An immortal at his game.

I know you do not understand,

When I say he wants me dead.

That he hunts the halls and that he guards,

The prison in my head.

No one can escape or leave.

No one’s allowed freedom.

Some live in fear, or plan escape,

Yet most are simply numb.

Please try to understand me,

When I say I cannot tell you.

To open up those locked doors,

Is something I can’t do.

To open them I risk my life,

And all the parts of me.

He’d kill body or mind to hide,

His crimes against sanity.

Hush now. Hush and be still,

And believe what you will.

For I know, yet cannot fully say,

Why my mind is haunted still.

K. Aldaya, 4/23/15

Picture: The Haunted Mansion Corridor at Disneyland; http://www.haunt1000.com/publishImages/MyHauntedMansion~~element27.jpg