Vision+Voice

The owls are the guardians of the moon
As they stand with composure, serenity, and grace
Keeping the forsaken moon company
Red and purple meteors crashing before them
But they are not afraid
They are blessed
Confined in their solitariness
Not another being for thousands of miles
They stand as still as a rock
They wait
Coldness hugs their feathered bodies
But they still feel warm
As they are the ones who get to look after the tender moon
The black sun shines upon them
The guardians don’t feel alone
Instead, they feel great gratitude to be able to care
For something so precious and gentle
They sit
For they know that they are needed

If you were to leave me now, the glass I cling to with a hardened stare would shatter
And kill us both
We are equally entrapped
Entranced
On either side
Of a bounded mirror of embrace
Although my grip is fading
My gaze pierces yours
I refuse to break the path between our eyes
I know why
You,
Are me,
If I were loved
Your eyes are mine,
If I were beautiful
Your smile could be my own, if my soul held such vibrant colors
I can whisper comforts of tender praise
To hear an echo
Reflecting
It’s what I live for
All I can live for
And have
You and me
Or us
And our barrier of frail narcissist disgust
There is no us without
Only an imaginary room
Filled with filth stained truths
That steer away my dream like perception
Of beauty love and youth
I have never broke our locked fixation
Or dared to peak inside
That stale repugnant room
Hidden deep inside my mind
For I fear I’ll find a different mirror
Apart from our sweet lie
And I’ll see the ugly, aching child of my haunted alienation
Detached from vain and foolish make believe
No
I would rather captivate my ignorance
I will cling to this mirror until it breaks
For it is my lifeline
So please,
Don’t leave me shattered.

The solitude it stands, a tree so tall,
Its branches weeping, leaves in a slow fall.
A heart once whole, now shattered, lies,
Yet within its roots, hope softly sighs.

Each ring tells a tale of love now lost,
Whispers of pain, like autumn’s frost.
Yet, with every sunrise, a chance to mend,
A broken heart, a sorrow to transcend.

Through seasons of sorrow, it bravely sways,
Branches reaching for brighter days.
Raindrops fall like tears from above,
Nourishing the soil, a symbol of love.

Blossoms bloom, a gentle rebirth,
Healing whispers carried by the earth.
The tree, a silent poet of grief,
Find solace in the breeze, a subtle relief.

As time unfurls, scars begin to fade,
A testament to strength, to love remade.
The tree, a mirror of the heart’s sweet pain,
Slowly heals, as sunlight breaks the chain.

I wither.
I wither well, with wonderful visions of water and blood,
And now I sink.
My words stand as mountains and I live in the valleys.
Your words are stone slabs that break me with every alliteration.
My lives live at the bottom in a desert and cry blessed blood that turns the sand into ash.

A red and black serpent a mile long and a red wood thick turns the sky black and circles my head and pierces my soul with its left eye.

I recognize that serpent.

It has your look.
It has your words.
It has your “faith”.
It has your tendencies.

If I move, it will surely end my cursed life.
If I engage with its eyes, it will hurt me more.
If I utter my grievances, it will hiss its terrible voice.

Don’t let it see who you are.
Don’t let it into your cosmos.

Kill the snake.

With your own words.
With your own strength gained from its hiss.

Carve a path of your own through its dense, thick fog.
Carve your own gilded words into the obsidian without fear of its hammer.
Carve it with the care and passion it never had.

Break the promises it forced you to keep.
Break the window with your flung bag out of rage.
Break the cycle it wants you to perpetuate, oh so much.

And there I lay, in the valleys, peering up at the amber sky dotted with wispy specters of clouds reflecting brilliant shades of pink and red as the sun slowly sinks to the earth’s side and engages with its lips.

The golden light shines on my face and turns my vision white, and in that land I rest easy.

Two Houses, two phones,
two kitchens, two homes,
two couches where I stay,
two couches where I lay.

House to house every day,
house to house I never stay.
I live two lives with two provided dogs and two coincided worlds.
Envy creeps up my skin like vines when I see those nuclear families.

I wish to live that Nuclear Life with
Those picketed fences and inhibited homes.
I wish to live that nuclear life with
a happy dad and his loving wife.
I wish to live that nuclear life with
One house, One phone,
One kitchen, One home.

Birthday invites, never sent
To a dad who couldn’t come back from his “trip”
One more year older
But you’re just a kid
And it hurts
As I watch you try to erase him

You wait by the phone
Every airplane looks to you like hope
Your voice a whisper as you remember
Your words lost to the wind
All of your wishes wasted on him

Deep down you know he’s gone
Not why or how but you know
Always smarter than you had to be
But you’re just a kid
You shouldn’t have to think about this

The park turned from a happy place
To a reminder
Because you see him everywhere
You see him in everything
He follows you like a shadow
His words haunt you like a ghost

You make up for his absence in your own head
Too hurt to believe it’s true
With enough love to give for the both of you
And him with nothing to give back

Tears come and go
Like a storm on the beach
Forgotten in an instant
The tide washing over
All the hope you once had

So sadness turned to anger
And laughter turned to hurt
A love meant to be eternal
Now unrequited by a father
Who’s never going to learn

You had so much innocence
And he took it
Like the thief he is
But you loved him regardless
Because you’re just a kid

You’ll get older
And he’ll fade away
Like a memory
Like the mist of the morning,
Gone by sunrise
And you will wonder
Forever changed by a man
Too cowardly to say goodbye

I hate him because you can’t
I cry when you won’t
I love you for everything he can’t see
He doesn’t understand
That you are just a kid

And he never deserved a love as pure as yours.

Darkness until night
A single spark
Flickering
In the night

Evolution
A spark becomes
A tender flame,
But it’s only one night in the dark

Multiplication
The flame becomes a fire
And suddenly there’s even more
It’s hardly dark anymore

Burnt
It’s what your apple trees are
The smell of apples is released into the air
That one spark was way too much

Umiibig Ang Luha,
Each day in my bed;
I cry thinking about you,
And every word you said.

Your deep brown hair;
Black in the night,
Your dark, tired eyes
Every time we pass sight.

You balance your life to perfection;
While still being funny and cool.
But when I look at my awards;
It makes me look like a fool.

Umiibig Ang Luha,
Weeping till rise,
But when we are in contact,
I can’t help but sigh.

At school, in our classes;
Focused on work
At lunch or outside,
The concrete lands we lurk.

But may luha pa rin;
From my life away from you,
I regret life and its downsides;
I just wish you knew.

I hope you like me back;
But it’s obviously a no;
Your love is living her best life;
And I am living alone.

She exceeds in cheer;
I exceed in band-or-something;
She wins awards;
But I have won nothing.

Umiibig Ang Luha,
I am the tears it’s true;
Memento mori, life is short;
So I’m glad I spent it with you.

Love is beautiful;
All warm and giddy
But what about everything else?
The fear and adrenaline from your body?

I’m not saying love is gross
I’m in love too.
That’s why I am writing this poem.
To ask a question to never be answered.

Love is stressful, dont lie.
Each day you see the “Love-of-your-life”
Everything feels tense, your mouth is dry
It’s dry but watering.

People will ask you
“Will you ever tell them?”
Or It could be worse,
Will your secret be leaked?

Love can be a scary place;
But once you are ready
And your gripping the wheels of confession tight;
You can get the hang of it

It’s funny.
How I never thought you would see me
in the window.
How it seemed
you’d just pass by
I’d just pass by
the world
would just pass by.
It’s funny.

It’s easier to pass by quickly
on a smooth sidewalk
then on a cracked one.

It’s funny
how so few things got stuck in the cracks–

but I don’t think either of us ever thought
about the things stuck so deep into them
that they can’t be pulled out.

Didn’t you once wish being enough could be enough?
Didn’t you once wish nothing could be enough?
Didn’t you once wish everything could be enough?
You wished for a lot of things
but I wished for more.

It’s easier to pass by quickly
on a smooth sidewalk
then on a cracked one–

but you didn’t care about the cracks;
you cared about me.