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/

106. Crimson Corridors

Deep inside there is a need,

To the very soul, to feed.

In echoed voices in the head,

A calling that does heed,

A relentless urge to bleed.

Crimson halls and corridors,

Endless rows of clos’ed doors.

All lead to the same end.

Self-defeating little whores,

Bleeding out scarlet abhors.

Beyond each door there lies,

A flaming heart which cries,

For unmerciless repent.

Until the vile river dries,

And the corridors’ light dies.

K. Aldaya, 11/25/04

Picture: “Corridor to Hell” by William McLaughlin on Flickr; https://www.flickr.com/photos/billmclaugh/2965702055