Candle

The room is dark
seemingly empty.
there is twitching
enchanting light.

purposely positioned
on the only object
visible in this room

centered.
it jumps
glides
pours itself
over the edges

cascading light
weaved
into the darkness.

shadows jump
dart
and pulse
about the room.
running
and hiding

each twitch
reveals
and hides
parts of this room

a literal struggle.
light
dark

war is waged
for sight
and blindness

between
illumination
and shadows.

Like Glass

how do we carry on when our lives are knocked to the floor, shattered like glass, consequently scattered and the pieces never to be assembled again.
scraping and trying to discern what pieces fit back together, while we find that we're missing too many pieces to make this life look the way it did before someone took it and knocked it off the shelf.
we're all made of the thinnest glass possible, we just guard the glass differently.
placed on higher shelves, encased in glass boxes or stowed away where no one will find it.

what do we do when we pick up that shattered glass, but throw it away.
if we cherished what is now the shattered remains, we might hold off for a bit,
but in the end we know it's useless to keep the pile we've brushed together.
which of us melts that glass and molds the pieces back together?

how do we carry on

Not Too Vast

We've crossed many plains, we've watched the sun rise and set.
We chased it as far as we could before being outrun and exhausted by the chase.
We've scaled mountains, climbed trees and swam across tranquil lakes that act as the mountain's mirrors.
We've counted stars as we tried to fall asleep
and kept wishes secret from each other as we watched stars streak across the sky.

We've crossed this planet vast
and we've crossed it together.

On Taming Tongues

The hardest thing about shutting up
will always be
swallowing my pride
and letting silence speak instead of me

silence won't always look golden
but words already spoken
can never be silenced

what i cast in impure metal
will never be gold

what should be said
rarely sees the light of day

while what should never
see the light of day
pollutes the air

What is my strength
and what do my words matter?
when i say absolutely nothing
in the loudest voice

all i spit
only repulses, creates disharmony
and sprays on all those around me

building nothing but rust
debilitating and destroying

so cast me down
and take my speech

I'd rather be force fed meaningful silence
than gorge myself with meaningless words
that only get thrown up on those nearest me

let my silence make others golden

On Desiring to Venture About

I have many doubts and questions surrounding why it is that I love what I love.
What I'm talking about is Japan.
As far back as being 8 or 9 years old, I've had a fascination with Japan.
I used to blame my infatuation with Anime and Manga as my reasoning,
but that isn't very relevant anymore, since I hardly watch or read these pieces of Japanese pop culture.
With further thought, I've come to the conclusion that it was never those portions of pop culture that pulled me to Japan.
Maybe I can blame my grandparents, having lived there for a time when my dad was young.
so is it a social factor of my upbringing? seeing many souvenirs and hearing stories from Japan in my delicate years are the reason?
I might have been able to blame this obsession on my family when I was younger,
but I don't think that holds much merit now.

I'm my own person, at least I like to think that I am, and after so many years I'm still quite obsessed with this place and its culture.

which bring me to my thoughts now, I am infatuated with this place because of many things, I think.
the culture fascinates me, it's exotic.
the language is very intriguing and I love learning it.
the above serves to explain that
this place is different from my own place.
a vastly different culture than my own
a foreign country where they don't speak my language
and a place where people interact differently than they do here.

the clincher is that, I've never even been to Japan.
which raises this fear that my infatuation with this culture is like that of a small girl's crush.
In that when I am finally able to visit Japan I'll see the ugly side and I'll suddenly snap out of my delusion
and then never want to return, ever again.
the exotic feeling will fade, and so will my infatuation with Japan,
this is my ultimate fear.

but does this fear have any grounds?

Wind Vs. Paper

i have a story to write and a great deal to say.
but what does it matter, when all i have to say

is gibberish.

i lose myself in my self-righteous words,
laced with frills and brimming with grammatic arrogance.

all my words, all my thoughts,
they mean absolutely nothing
when all they do is speak of myself.

these empty words carry no weight
and i stare
as these words are blown away in the wind.

Without Vision

we swing and we rage
we stand and we cower
we scream and we whisper

warring, raging
screaming and laughing

at nothing and everything

we act immortal
while we’re dying

we survive on liquids that parch us
and foods that empty us

we swing and we miss.

we’re blind
and we’re dizzy

speaking peace and spitting hate
we are the shore’s waters
tossed and turned, spun and thrown

staggering, tripping
spinning and falling

we grasp at anything

but find nothing
and we wonder if all we are
is alone

thinking, reasoning
fearing and dying.

Bring Me The Horizon - "Shadow Moses"

Link: Bring Me The Horizon - "Shadow Moses"

every time i see this song title,
watch the video
and listen to the lyrics,
all i can think of is Metal Gear.
La Li Lu Le Lo

Staring Uphill

There are things to fear
and things to hide

And where does it put me.

Where do i stand

When i stand in fear

Of all that surrounds me

how can i stand

When i knowingly ingest sickness

And hope to stand unharmed

Who am i

To think i am exempt

That i am immortal

i am no god

i am finite

i have a beginning

And i have an end

And my end comes

When i stand in pride

My beginning starts

When i bow down

Before You

The Old Days

i finally get the urge to move and
when i try to stand
i find it’s not so easy
to dust myself off

there are vines
there are roots
holding me back
and keeping me still

i fight and i struggle
but i then resign myself
to just being a tree
planted in a computer chair.

The Law of Post-Initial Reactions

There’s a moment that is barely noticeable
that happens between disbelief and realization
when you trip or when you suffer some sort of physical trauma.
In this moment, a million emotions flash through your head.
Anger, embarrassment and sadness are among the most prominent.
These feelings fly through your body at the speed of light
until realization hits.
After which you register one of those emotions and hold on to it
until you get over your recent trauma
or you vacate the area where the trauma happened,
which ever comes first.

Sinking Thoughts

When emptiness sings

Hollow songs that fill my head

I can do nothing but sink deeper

Into an ocean with no buoyancy

Surrounded by fleeing fish

And salty water

Loneliness never tasted so bitter

And the quiet never sounded so loud

When will sanity finally do me in

When will i hit the bottom

When will You become my reality

Chattering Leaves

She stood in the doorway with clenched fists

hands stained
body shaking
and eyes blurring
thick with tears.

She bowed her head
shoulders risen
arms straight
elbows locked

she floated there
not standing
nor sitting
not still
not moving

halfway between reality
and a different dimension

every thought possible raced through her head
as the tears won out
and the world dissipated
in water and darkness

the sound of leaves
chattering on trees

faded in
and faded out
of focus

her body temperature
spiked and dove

unmoving
but shifting
leaning
and swaying

the floor grew damp at her feet
the breeze injected chills directly into her spine

as it sang its ghastly song
whispering in her ear
and playing with her hair

the first tear freed from the tip of her nose
fell rapidly

and splashed in the pool of dark viscous liquid
crawling toward her feet

all lay before her
all lay beneath her

drowning
cold
dead

as she stands there
drowning
cold
and dead

Patience

The realization is slow, the impact quiet

my falls, my destruction
are great, the quake resonating for miles around

but my recovery is nearly silent
as You extend a hand
and give me strength
to shake off the dust.

i may still reel
and i know i’ll fall again
but knowing that You’re here

now
and will be
then

i’m thoroughly immersed
awe fills my senses
and silences my mind

Cobra

i face The Fear,

as i reach a never ending pier
who are you to know

what causes The Pain in me

who do you think you are
to bring The Sorrow to my door

The Joy is something i can no longer feel

as The Fury builds in my chest
and i become blind with rage

and in my blindness
i reach The End..

…

In honor of the upcoming MGS5, this has been another tribute to Big Boss.

yes, i’m obsessed, deal with it.

A Fox for the Hounds

there is nothing left for me
having consumed cobras of a bloody past
to establish my place

i killed the joy of life
and in doing so
my fate was sealed

i inherited those scars
i took that name

i am the power
hanging in the balance

and i am marching forward
not for king
nor for country

no patriotism
runs in my tainted blood

i take haven
in the fields of battle

and i single-handedly
thrust the world

into having zero future.

what i bear
will yield no fruit

only the flames of war
and a distorted vision

which in turn

will create more legless serpents

fighting for the right to walk

where they will only find a dead end

i was called the final son
of a legend

and a terrible child, i am

…

inspired by Metal Gear Solid’s original snake, Big Boss.

"...And Then Came Grace."

rising in the morning
feeling as a dog to its
own mess

only to flick on the screen
clicking shuffle

the first song
and it’s title

instantly
reminding me

there’s always love

even as the house
i built in sand

falls

and falls
greatly and completely

my own words hum lowly
in my ears

i’m drowning in a sinking sea
no buoyancy to keep me afloat
and my dead weight pulls me down

i still find myself surprised
when i’m pulled ashore

again.

hacking up that familiar dark fluid

You’re still standing over me
love exuding from your existence.
and that strange gravity

feeling as though
everything is slowly sloped towards You
almost as if even the inanimate and lifeless objects yearn
to be near..
even the world itself shifts its gravity to You.

and now
i see something i didn’t see before

the dark festering pool
of thick liquid
i coughed up

shrinks like a sponge
as clear, clean water seeps out
and begins trickling

towards You

running towards You.

and the black spot
no longer liquid
begins to crack
and crumble

into dust
and blows away
into nothing

in this moment
of observation

realization continues
to dawn on me

and i now know

i’m still worth saving
as Your love surrounds me

again.
and again

sarcasm

with thoughts of words from another
"advertising is legalized lying"
i begin to think
…

after seeing a recent media masterpiece
i can formulate that
romance apparently comes only in the form of a cologne,
a perfume
or a diamond.

and apparently
casts you into a far a way land;
a european forest in early autumn
painted black and white.

with what i guess media
and the world understands as

beauty.

she is a tall, long haired loose-curled, blonde woman
with a long dress.

and apparently
and he is a god chiseled from rock,
wearing black slacks and no shirt
or an open white button-up.

and a perfect white horse is also present

together
these two immaculate beings on their perfect horse
would ride off into their wooded home

apparently this is romance.
and it cannot be done without a cologne.

i guess
thinking for myself is never the answer.

i guess i was wrong in my thoughts of romance

my thoughts of a romance
between a man and woman.

i could delve deeper..
but whats the point.

i’m wrong

and the media is right

The Cost

i’ve been walking

and wherever i go

the ground is covered in ash

from the top of a small hill
i see a house thoroughly burned

and yet still standing

when i set foot inside

there is one room intact

inside this room

i see a single, small cabinet 

with one drawer

within, all i find are 

old, stained staples

tape

paper

pencil.
and my name

this was my room
and those staples,

this tape
they kept my mouth shut

i look out the single window and
remember

i burned this country side.
with one word i brought this house down.
with a sentence the hills went up in flames.

engulfed,
become the things that can hear my voice.

i quietly pick up the tape
wrap it firmly around my head

and seal my mouth shut

with the pencil in hand
i lower myself to the floor

and write on that pad of paper.

this pad is nearly full of scribbles
and mistakes.

i seem to never learn  

Never Paradise

i’m standing in the center of an empty room, staring at a wall painted black.
it fills my vision and i’m pulled into the expanding darkness.
i see nothing and i feel even less as the temperature drops rapidly.
my mind goes blank and my heartbeat slows.
as i fall forward, my stomach lurches and time slows.
consumed by emptiness, a small thought begins to form.
a thought that whispers to me that i led myself here.

Willingly brought to the edge of my sanity
what was once a single wall in a small room now envelops my entire being
the ground never comes when i feel myself falling
my hands stretch ever so slowly, but i continue to fall
my vision fails me and i fall into the void that i have created.

The Surface

There was a fire

it burned with great intensity

now, without a sound

there is only darkness

damp ground and singed trees.

i was alive and i knew hope

now i know nothing but the depths of the ocean

and lack of air

i’m sinking, not swimming

i’m drowning, not falling

it is a slow descent

full of terror

full of sorrow

as my vision dies

the last thing i can think of

is to stretch my hand out

toward the surface

Ropes

When i was walking across the rickety rope bridge

i paid no mind

to creaks and whines

until i heard the ropes snap and the tension slack

i was surprised to find

when i found myself falling

there wasn’t much of a fall

no, not much of a fall, at all.

Sinking Feeling

There’s a grey city

with empty streets

and empty buildings

This is a soundless city

with no cars

and no alarms

this is also a rainy city

it’s mostly light rain

and it’s mostly sunny, too

no people

no birds

no life

but trees.

I dropped my hat there once

and chased it

as the wind danced with it

whisking it from street lights

to park benches

my body got shivers

as my hair got soaked

when the light rain

turned to a downpour

at once, the wind retreated

to where I can only assume

was its home

I grabbed my hat

and sat under the awning of a building

facing an overly cracked and worn basketball court

I watched the weeds living in the cracks

get pummeled by the rain

the rain never lightened up that day

and I was forced to sleep

in a city where the only person

that could be found

was watching weeds in cracks on basketball courts

Ties on the Floor

i see fluttering

white sheets

torn paper

folded like butterflies

in freefall

soundless descension

there’s black ink

scribbled inside

like names

They are names,

i sigh

in recognition

names i know

my name

every one

There’s no help

no comfort

no words

in fluttering sheets

discarded; useless

dying moths

the last paper

scrapes floor

and rests

it’s like snow

these sheets

deafening: monochromatic

and i stand

silently staring

all lost

in a room

by myself

with only myself

When I Can't Feel Anything

i couldn’t feel You in the wind

i couldn’t feel You in the impassioned words

i couldn’t feel You in the drum beat

i couldn’t feel You in the rain

i couldn’t feel You in the heartfelt lyrics

i couldn’t feel You in the glow of lights mixed with dust that night

i couldn’t feel You in the passion of those around me

i couldn’t feel You in the music

i couldn’t feel You in the images displayed

i couldn’t feel You in the lasers, the smoke and the mirrors

i couldn’t feel You in the heat

i just couldn’t feel You in those moments

but that didn’t stop me from knowing

that You were there

that You are here

that You will be here

that You inspire heartfelt lyrics

that You stir up the winds

that You remove the dust from my eyes

that You cause rain to fall

that You shake the earth

that You stand, unmoving

that You will never end

that You are King of kings

and that You still move in moments when feeling is fleeting

When i can’t feel anything

i can’t help but sit in silence

knowing that You’re still there

no matter what i feel.

long live the King

forever is Your reign

When I Say Time, I Mean a Lacktherof

My fear is large and formless

shape shifting

like a shadow that doesn’t get stamped out in the light

it looks like darkness

it looks like death

it looks like loneliness

and it looks like people

it grows like anger

a small flame that feeds this formless entity

no light penetrates

a fortress i don’t want seen

i reach out in vein

all i do is in vein

because my pride

is what i clutch inside

fear of you

and fear of me

being swallowed by the tide

while others stand tall

i see my fear

i see my shame

a towering wave

will pull me out to see

my fear

in a perfect form

like water

filling all the cracks and openings i haven’t closed

i can’t figure out, where it was

that i became 

what i sought to protect

On Slopes

i want
i never want to be here.
i hate it here.

i want to run
i wish to jump off this cliff

and free fall
once again.

i remember the time
of always falling.
and never gripping

but still being constrained.

and in a sense

i am still here.

i’m stuck falling
i’m always failing

and i hate being here.

i wish.
so wish
to never fail again

i wish
never wish
to be filled with disdain

i desire to do something
besides try in vein
to clamber up this wall.

and so
i run
and i stumble
and i fall

and i roll
off the cliffside.

and again

i am stranded.
always falling

terrified.
yet
apathetic 

and i am painfully silent
in the face of my tragedy.


so i’ll hide my face
and continue falling

just always falling. 

Insatiable (Running Never Saved Anyone)

Who was it, i was afraid of?
Where was it that i was running to?

or rather, running from?

there is liquid fire
pure lava
burning through my veins

inexhaustable
fire
pure adrenaline

shakes the fiber of my being
filling me with flawless anger

the age has changed
the time of blind terror

has ended

the age of fire
is heating the atmosphere

my temperature continues to rise
as i begin my hunt

your hiding places are becoming increasingly more scarce

the time of an ignorant Goliath has long since past

i am not seen as a harmless child
before an army of ravenous coyotes

the Goliath fleeing from my hand
can see unhindered

transluscent in light
standing strong,
i’m screaming your name

show your face
Goliath, i’m coming for you

i am no longer
the fearful

i am no longer
the naive

i know full well
the voice i trust

so, hide in your shrinking shadows
Goliath, your head is as good as mine

from wherever you are
i know you can see it

that skull
those crossed bones

it’s time i put you in your place

a sleepless grave
consuming your flesh

your age has come to an end

あの時に

When I got up the courage to speak

when every rain drop weighed a thousand pounds

when all my fear dissolved into nothing

when you took my pain and gave me flowers

when you took the flowers and gave me pain

when my anger was all that I had

when paper was all that I had

when I wanted to abandon the world

when I wanted to be fictional

when I won’t live here anymore

when I was terrified of the future

when I’m ashamed of my past

when I was completely alone

when I am alone

when I will be alone

when all I could think about was me

when all I could think about was anime

when all I can think about is you

when I’ll be a million miles from anyone who speaks my language

when I’ll be sad that everyone speaks my language

when I only had that street light for comfort

when I’m falling

when I hurt you

when I’m a fool

when I’m a nerd

when I’ll look back

when I evaluate myself

when I look at what’s left

and when I see you still standing beside me.

Concerning Concerns

The ringing grew loud, to the point i could no longer ignore it. something what wouldn’t even be drowned out in the greatest of distractions, not the sound of rain, the annoyance of tv or even the use of headphones could drown this ringing. what was once only noticeable when i tried to listen for it, now penetrates my every nerve. and i fear for my sanity. 

i count myself as lost among the graves. circling the grounds, dancing around in fear, fear that i try to convince myself is not me. 

i wonder who knows me, i wonder who i know. i wonder where You are, and if i’ve ever really met You. You claim to know me, You claim to see me, You claim to understand me. and i know nothing of You. 

and fear grows, like the shadows that grow with the setting of the sun. and i  am terrified, i’ve never known You, when i so badly wish to. 

and yet, when the shadows seem to cover the entire world, when the ringing grows loudest, when the temperature seems coldest; the sun rises again, silencing my fear, and noise is replaced by hope. 

You have always been there, and even though i know You less than You know me, i know You, nonetheless. 

and i feel You whisper in the sun’s light

embrace me and warm me to the bone. 

and i know You are simply You, and You are warmth

You are comfort. 

Maybe it was because of no sleep, that this happened

there’s a dull lull 

whispering pain,

and it creeps through my head.

as rhythms and melodies feed directly into the deeper and darker parts of my skull

 

i watch

a curtain slowly dance to its own beat

as cold air fills the room.

 

light, like a dying moth

flits and flutters

scattering its accents

in various, seemingly nonsensical 

spots on the floor, roof

and walls

 

i try to think of anything else

than things i see

but nothing comes

no deeper meaning

just observation.

 

and i see cars

as they pass by

outside, through the thin white veil

that allows the light to lazily fill the room.

 

catching my eye, due to the sun’s reflection off their windows

and metal bodies.

 

and because of the window,

that does as good of a job blocking sound

from the outside world,

as the thin white sheet covering this window

does at blocking light from this room,

 

i can hear them.

 

as they creep underneath my window

i can hear them fly by 

on the freeway

less than a mile away.

 

and nothing comes,

no reason for justification

no frustration at stolen sleep

at the hands of thin windows,

nothing but mindless observation. 

 

and that’s perfectly fine with me

Times

there seems to be a wellspring

hidden deep within my mind

things wanting to be said

written, thought about

.

what have you.

but they do 

so like to 

hide in

dark

places

seemingly

not wanting

to be found, or

.

anything of the sort.

but i keep searching, in

hope of finding inspiration

somewhere within the cracks

for the Love...

For the time being, there is nothing to be said

only things to be seen

thought about, and consequently misinterpreted

.

oh, the humanity

A Name, Unimportant

I find her always looking at the sky

the only place she can look and not see trees

overgrowing, climbing and twisting high

wishing to take even the sky into it’s sprawling expanse.

.

wherever we find a break in this continuous forest

her stare won’t break, peering through our small window to the sky

as she watches clouds swim across the stretch of ocean

above us

.

does she wish to fly,

to not be trudging through this forest?

does she hate the task forced on her shoulders,

.

or is it just solace, knowing there is different scenery somewhere else

that isn’t here

.

is it peace she finds, looking at space

that seems to be empty

and not overrun by trees.

.

for now, i’ll just let her get her fill 

as daylight fades

and we walk deeper into this endless forest

A Morning Person On Days That Aren't Today

they say that the hardest part of writing is not the act,

but sitting down to start. i can easily say,

.

it’s all too true.

the last thing i want to do

is sit here to write anything new.

.

my head is full of nothing but cloth and pillow fluff

and my body swims in apathy to do anything but lie still.

.

the last thing on my mind

is writing out a clever find

or an experience i’ve left behind.

.

trying to shake out the sleep and to think about anything but grumbles

and mumbles. i just can’t shake the thoughts

.

that i just want to sleep

lie down and keep

dreaming and seep

.

back down into the cozy, warm and fluffy land

so full of what some would call pure happiness.

.

but a lazy rage has taken hold

forcing me out into the cold

bitter and angry, so everything i scold

.

it’s too cold, i’m too tired, i slept too rough, i woke too early, i have to pee,

it’s too cold to wash my hands but i probably should.. and the water IS too cold!

.

oh the joys of early morning rage

at nothing, at everything, no matter my age

a beast running rampant that everyone wants to cage

.

but here and now i think i’ve shaken it off, i think i’m cooling down,

and the morning is actually quite nice, both inside my house and out.

.

watching the trees sway, is an image i’ll borrow

think about the weather tomorrow

and be thankful that in this morning, i’ve known no sorrow.

.

The End of an Era

The passage of time,
the moving of furniture.

the sound of heavy sighing
and the uncomfortable silence.

a deep, unnerving silence.

and an unbelievably heavy discussion.

my heart sinks
and my head overheats.

too much is happening
too much is falling.

life is ever changing

and in this moment,
i cannot say;
"when when everything changes
nothing changes”

because nothing is constant.

and everything is shaking.


my heart gets heavier
my head feels lighter.

dizziness pulls me out of my delusion.
as i stagger down the hall

nothing to hold onto.

free falling again.

my ever present nightmare
my every present condition.

my all encompassing reality.

always falling.

as the room empties.
and the occupants leave.

i struggle to keep my head afloat
long enough to say my goodbyes.

this is my good night.