357. Sleep

You always sleep when I cry,

And one day you will when I lie…

in a coffin: the bed of the cursed.

Remember you shunned my pain first!

You always ignore when I bleed,

And don’t bother to stop and take heed.

Blades listen much sharper than you.

Isn’t blood now on your hands too?

You always disregard my words…

They drift onto paper like cowards;

Afraid to take to the air,

And be blown away without a care.

You always sleep when I cry,

And one day when I up and die.

Remember I told you I would.

Living: Tell me why I should!

K. Aldaya, 6/15/16

Picture: Originally posted by Doreese on Tumblr; http://favim.com/image/47601/

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

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

262. Mommy, Don’t Leave Me

Mommy, please don’t leave me,

I’m afraid to be alone.

I fear the darkness coming.

Please don’t leave me alone!

Mommy, I’m so afraid,

Of the shadows which follow…

Follow me, and haunt my dreams.

I feel so cold; hollow.

Mommy, I feel it’s near.

Terrified I cringe and shake.

Please don’t look at me that way….

Like I am a mistake.

Mommy, I am sorry.

Sorry I’m a haunted soul.

That you can’t stand to look at,

My sin as black as coal.

Mommy, please hold my hand.

Do not let it go and leave.

It’s coming…yes it’s coming!

There’s no more time to grieve.

Mommy, don’t go away.

I’m so afraid and I see…

A dark form is near…..so near,

I feel death’s here mommy.

Mommy, mommy, help me!

It has me…I scream and scream,

But you don’t seem to hear me.

I scream and scream…and scream.

Mommy, why did you leave?

I step and walk to you now,

And you take my bloody hand.

Mommy, can’t you see now…

How hard it is for me to stand?

Mommy, I’m so tired.

Goodnight. I wish I could stay,

But the dead do not walk strong,

In the light of a new day.

Mommy, it is so cold;

I can’t feel your warmth at all,

And I walk when I should sleep,

Beneath the night-moons’ pall.

Mommy, I am lonely.

Endlessly walking this path.

Can I sleep forever now?

Mommy, run my blood-bath.

You won’t miss me anyhow.

K. Aldaya, 3/3/14

Picture: Artist Unknown; http://thedarkrosejournal.files.wordpress.com/2013/01/sadness.jpg

256. The Silence of the Birds

Here I am so lonely.

No one really cares.

I’m just out here surviving.

Why is it no one dares?

To talk to me, or know,

Who I am or long to be?

Or simply say hello,

When they walk on by me?

I’m tired of surviving,

Of doing the right things.

Of saying hello and smiling;

For me, no one does these things.

And yet, they are so simple;

I do them every day.

Though I doubt yet one would call to me,

If I were to walk away.

If I turned and walked,

Up the stairs some more.

And to the top emerged.

And loudly closed the door.

And walked slowly each step…

Tip-tap with the clock.

And softly closed my eyes.

Pondering the tick and tock.

And as the wind,

From the North,

A cold and icy thing,…

Blew, I would step forth,

—-No more to sing.

K. Aldaya, 1/19/14

Picture: “Girl on the Edge” by Tom Ryaboi: http://www.tomryaboi.com/; http://camyx.com/exposure/2013/11/tom-ryaboi-atop-skyscrapers/