283. Mutistic Refrain

Whisper not a whisper,

Or someone is bound to hear;

And it echo and repeat itself,

For all the world to hear.

Whisper not a whisper,

For even the wind has ears;

And a tongue for blowing secrets,

And spreading fears.

Whisper not a whisper.

Hold it in and hold your breath.

Let tears o’erflow the flood-gates,

And hold back the ghosts of death.

Whisper not a whisper,

They can hear! They can hear!

From their haunted world they listen!

Hush…do not let them hear!

Whisper not a whisper,

As ghosts are for the dead,

And should not find a home to haunt,

In any others’ head.

Whisper not a whisper,

Lock the door and close the blinds.

Protect those who do not know,

What searching here finds.

Whisper not a whisper,

No one may enter here.

Save all from what’s unseen.

Save all from what’s to fear.

Whisper not a whisper,

Or someone is bound to pay.

The haunted world must be contained;

They will not have their way!

Whisper not a whisper,

And they won’t find anyone.

Stay inside and make a stand,

For the past can’t be undone.

So, whisper not a whisper,

Crouch and hum an eerie tune;

And wait and rock until it’s time,

To greet the lonely moon.

For if whispered-out a whisper,

Someone is bound to hear;

And it echo and repeat itself,

For all their ghosts to hear.

K. Aldaya, 12/28/14

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://favim.com/image/340275/

276. Bloody Hands

Red as sun-lit roses in the budding-Spring,

The pavement glistens with fresh blood,

And in my heart a piercing thorn bears the moments’ sting.

In my hand is an old-withered rag of white,

And in my soul a battlefield,

Plays a ghostly reenactment of the costly fight.

–Bloody is the rag which tries to hide a guilty soul,

Yet bloodier are the hands which clean without a rag that’s whole.

Red are these hands and the only I have known,….

Are these hands with fresh-blood dripping…

Dripping, and dripping guilt and pain; scrubbing all alone.

Blue as restless oceans crashing to the shore,

Are the tears which crash to the earth,

Never enough to clean the hands of an old child-whore.

–Red as sunlit roses in the budding-Spring,

The pavement glistens with fresh blood,

And in my heart a piercing thorn bears the moments’ sting.

K. Aldaya, 8/19/14

Picture: Inspired by American McGee’s Alice: Madness Returns; Artist Unknown; http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_maly49hnQp1qkuk8lo1_500.jpg

275. Rest Your Head Upon My Shoulder

Rest your head upon my shoulder,

And I will rest there too.

I’m so tired of trying,

I’ve failed, and the past I can’t undo.

Rest upon my shoulder dear friend.

Your warmth and breath are mine;

In time woven together.

Forget the passing hours and be mine.

Rest now and be at peace my friend,

For time will make us pay.

For stealing what is not ours;

Oh yes, we will have to pay someday.

Rest down your head and do not think,

Of days which slip us by;

And let all cares float away,

As we dream under the fated-sky.

Rest your head upon my shoulder,

And I will rest there too.

My veins are parched and drying…

I’ve failed….and the past I can’t undo….

K. Aldaya, 8/11/14

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://thesavvysistah.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/02/sunday-morning-inspiration-lean-on-me.jpg

274. A Drama Full of Suspense and a Little Bit of Insanity

Is happiness more than distraction?

I wish I could say so.

I wish I knew just what it was,

That makes “happiness” so?

I feel the breeze softly blow,

And the warm golden sun.

The beauty is so great I worry,

It’s just a distraction.

It’s said life is a middle road,

Between two vast extremes.

So I wonder why I cannot find it,

Even in my dreams?

Beauty is sad and cannot last,

So I promptly reminisce;

And wind up just as sad as if,

There were no “happiness”.

Yes, it is sure, I am insane;

And certainly too intense.

Oh, I wish I could change out my brain,

And stop living ‘melodramatic-suspense’.

However, this drama called life,

Has always been this way for me.

The plot plays on through the screen,

Of my minds’ TV.

K. Aldaya, 7/22/14

Picture: by evolutionsgonnacome on Tumblr; http://www.evolutionsgonnacome.tumblr.com/post/6038009903

273. Life is an Abuser

Life is an abuser,

And I, his unwilling victim.

Everyone tells me I’m wrong.

I should give in,

And go along.

Life is an abuser.

He hurts me all the time.

Everyone tells me to like it.

I should enjoy,

And commit.

Life is an abuser,

And I should love my abuser.

Everyone says I have to,

If I want love,

And acceptance too.

Life is an abuser,

He tells me I’m ungrateful,

And guilts me into staying,

And taking it,….

And praying.

Life is an abuser.

I sit in the corner and chant….

It’s okay….okay….okay….okay…,

But don’t believe it….

Not today.

Life is an abuser.

I tire of being his toy.

He loves to mess with my head.

It hurts so much,

I wish I were dead.

Life is an abuser,

And I, his unwilling victim.

Everyone tells me it’s okay,

But it is not…….NO…..Not today!

K. Aldaya, 6/16/14

Picture: Photographer Unknown; http://www.kuramamagazine.com/images/suicidal%20girl.jpg