Giggles surround me like the subtle tune of the black and white keys,
I’m happy, but I’m not happy.
I want to laugh with them too,
Know their inside jokes, rhythm and feel what they are feeling,
But I’m outside their group,
alone, knees to my chest, in my own universe, as they say.
Call me, I’ll come,
call me, I’ll join.
I’m not invisible,
I’ve no superpowers to make myself disappear.
Your words and jollity reaches me,
I have friends,
Only they are imaginary,
Help me fight them,
So that I can be with you—
in your giggles and tickles.
- To those misfits, I feel you.
#poetry #sad #angst #lonely #misfit #emo
The Taste of Black
Bitter to the tongue; like overbrewed coffee or ninety percent dark chocolate,
a heavy lump down my throat, I crave for sweet water.
Not too hard to describe, but not too easy to understand.
Like blood, just not sweet. The metallic taste everyone knows, but no one can bear.
An addiction, an overdose,
never tiring, always novel to the tasters.
It burns, it hurts,
the pain doesn’t die.
Like drinking alchohol,
but deadlier and raw.
I don’t want it,
I need it.
I don’t need it,
but I crave it.
Don’t give it to me,
Give it to me,
I might not live anymore.
Poison for some,
Elixir for some.
Sinful for some,
Paradise for the rest.
#black #color #taste #poison #poetry
Yellow cabinets, like sunflowers are planted on top of floral walls,
the sink is clean; the lemon scent still lingering in the corners,
the cooker whistles, and the sound echoes excitedly, bringing smiles to the waiters, making Grandma herself hurry to the stove.
The smell of meat overpowers everything; as every second passes by, our mouths salivate childishly.
Awaiting Grandma's voice, soft and sweet, calling us to dinner; a lovely family reunion.
She mixes the curry, places the rice on the table, sets everything in place; a perfectionist.
Round table, for everyone to join, none to miss. Laughters and stories pass around like a bowl of nachos and chips.
Clinks and clanks of utensils and glasses, Grandma's face is lighted up, with love and happiness.
Dirty dishes, finger licking fingers, stained stove, but in the end, for Grandma, it was all worth while; her everyday life story told in short.
#grandma #love #memories #prose #poetry
You passed by me. Your Scarlet hair blew over your shoulders and a mild fragrance touched my palate. I looked back and saw your fragile back walking away from me. My heart pounded so loudly that everything else around me turned deaf. I could feel my pulse rising and I became eager to see your face. Howeve, the green light turned red and you disappeared from my sight. I thought I lost you, I thought I would never see your face and I thought that it just wasn't meant to be. But I guess I was wrong the whole time.
We met. It was really an unexpected meeting. And also surprising. I was at the library reading a book called, "Can love bring surprises?" I was at an empty table. All for myself because that's how I like it.
I was at a very beautiful scene. What happens is that the boy finally confesses to the girl. You might be thinking why it must be beautiful when its just the same old story. But, there's a twist to it. The boy was in a coma for the past thirteen years and yet the girl waited for him to wake just in the belief that it was her best friend. She had no extra emotions for him. She didn't know how he felt about her. But she was surprised when his first words were 'Will you marry me?'
What do you think must have happened? Did she say yes or did she reject him because a love can never succeed unless both of them share the same feelings.
Anyway, I was about to know the climax of the story when something distracted me. It was a very pretty thing that caught my eye. It was a pair of red lips.
It might sound insane but the entire time from the time my gaze were set on her lips till the time she left, my eyes never left the color of her red an plush lips.
I had given up at this time. I thought I wouldn't be lucky enough to see her again. I mean I always hoped but luck is just the other side of the same coin. Heads you lose, tails you win.
My heart pounded so loudly that day, I thought I was going to die because I saw the fascinating death of me. She was magnificent. Like a sculpture made from gold or rather, if I have to say in a dark way, made from deepest of the blood.
At this point, I thought of speaking a few good words to her. Maybe a formal greeting or even an exchange of a smile would make me content.
But it wasn't easy. Coincidents and accidents are rare. I never got to see her again. Months passed but my longing to see her wouldn't fade. Rather, it grew each minute and It does sound stalker-ish but I was getting a little vexed.
Right now, I only knew how her lips curved and how her hair blew. I can't stop thinking about her...It's like she plagued my mind. No, my entire body. I can't sleep well, I can't eat well and my scores have dramatically dropped.
I asked myself what I have to do to forget her. What will make me be normal again and what will stop me from this strange addiction.
However, I didn't get an answer.
I hoped to see her again. Guess all I was doing was incessantly wishing for something that wasn't written for me.
But I think people need to start believing in fate and stuff because life gives us so many surprising and unexpected things. It gave me one too...
All I remember was that it was a summer night and I was locked up in a room. The smell of cigrettes, strong cologne and alchohol was heavy in the air. And then the door opened and her lips that I thought I would die without seeing, was spread wide like a grim reaper.
Look into my eyes and tell me what you see.
Do you see the rainbow?
Do you see the blazing fire?
Or do you see thorns and a rocky path?
Tell me. What do you really see?
I know you can feel my heart beat but why aren't you answering?
I know you love me but why aren't you showing it to me?
Tell me. What do you feel when you look at me?
Candies and Cream?
Ashes and Destrustion?
Or Rain and Tranquility?
Why do you keep losing me?
Why do you keep getting lost?
Find me and I'll drag you to the light.
Find me and I'll fight the darkness for you.
Can you hear me?
Never will I let the fire burn in your soul.
Never will I let the flower wither in you.
You are the thorns that are in my path,
But I promise I will cross it with all my heart.
It's funny how I miss you even though you don't,
But tell me one thing, is it really true all that you said to me?
You might have forgotten me, you might have erased me from your mind, but perhaps one day, I can make you mine.
I am alone, looking for you in a busy street.
I still remember how you look, how you smell and I know how you would react after seeing me.
I have been waiting for so long and finally you call me.
Its exciting how my hearts pounding so loudly. My palms are sweaty upon clutching my phone too tightly and my eyes are getting tired of searching for you in the crowd of black and blue.
I feel a sudden breeze behind me and turn around.
There you are, looking right at me with a smile I still remember.
Darling, you look so perfect. Your eyes met mine and the world around me stopped.
I touched your hand and it was so cold. It felt so amazing to tangle my fingers with yours.
Honey, I love you.
Please don't leave me no more.
Alas, that was the last we met. The last we held hands. And the last I ever felt your presence.
My tears were all that accompanied me. I wish you were here. I wish you were here.
"I am my love, still in your memories."
The stench of swine hovered around his head. The sound of blades scraping together echoed in the basement of house 12, the last one on the street. The dim orange lights flickered on the bloody walls. Trails of gore and plasma had started from his kitchen to the basement stairs. The splashing sound of his footsteps as he walks past the puddle of blood makes his cat run towards him with its tail high up in the air. It twirls around its master's leg, licks the blood off of his boots and runs back to its place near the fireplace.
He places the cold body on the table of agony and grabs the sharpened butcher knife. The cat sits and stares up at his master and his passionate way of working. With a quick slap of the knife, the hands came off clean. The deep red blood gushed forth and onto his apron. Slowly, it spilled down on the floor in the perfect stream. There were more clouts, more strikes and more thumps that made an absolutely magnificent melody.
He grabbed a handful of shredded meat and threw it towards his cat. It sniffed and sniffed, and sniffed and then looked at the body bag. It let out a tiny purr before running back to the first floor. Human meat never really tasted good.
Three missing since December 19th. A Deadly winters night.
The gramophone played pieces of Christmas, love, and joy. He sat on his worn out recliner and sipped the twilights coffee. The smell of freshly baked cookies swirled around the streets through the chimneys and the frost glued themselves to the windows. Pale white snow piled up under the heels of children, nevertheless, the laughter’s and the gleefulness of kids ringing the bells to give a taste and a glimpse of their gingerbread house was not invited to house 12. No one knew him. No one cared to know him. Except three.
One missing since December 24th. A Christmas Eve.
She fought with her mom on that day about something absolutely nonsensical. Slamming the door shut behind her, she marched through the heavily piled up snow in her front yard and dialed her boyfriend’s number. He wouldn’t pick up. She tried again but the same annoying response of the disconnected line.
Looking around her dead silent neighborhood, she took out her box of cigarette and quickly pulled one right from the middle. Clutching it between her teeth, she recalled that she forgot her lighter in her room. The second drawer, under the dozen unused socks.
Irritation had soon unwrapped her like a cold blanket. She threw her unlit cigarette on the soiled snow and zipped up her jacket as the frosty wind strongly blew past her, slapping her bangs away.
She wished to go back inside and just cuddle with her stuffed animals under her warm blanket with a cup of hot chocolate with double whipped cream and marshmallows, however, she shunned that thought as soon as she realized the mistake of arguing with her mom. Plus, she slammed the door which showed a great sign of disrespect in front of her relatives. That means, she’s grounded for good and that means she won’t be going inside anytime soon.
A sinister figure stood in front of house number 12. It appeared tall, and muscular and covered in darkness. She couldn’t help but catch a glimpse at it. The cold began to grow on her fingers and faint cramps enveloped her stomach as the individual moved a little.
Unconsciously, she took a step back.
The mysterious person slowly advanced forward, into the little blotch of the street light. She took a sigh of relief as the man appeared no more than a regular man wearing his nightgown with a cup of hot coffee and cookies.
“Hey,” He said a little loudly, “What are you doing out here in the cold?”
“I should ask you the same,” She said.
“The fuse was out, so I came to check.”
“Just came out for some fresh, winter air.”
“Ah, is that so? Well, Merry Christmas to you young lady.”
“Though, would you care to join me for a cup of hot chocolate?”
“Thanks, but I will pass.”
“It’s free,” He chuckled.
“Come on, just a cup won’t hurt, right? I also have a gingerbread house to finish so I would really like some company.”
Sure, he was a stranger and she shouldn’t accept his kind invitation but it was Christmas Eve. No one lives this particular night alone. At least she would get to smoke a cigarette if he would let her.
“Do you have a lighter?” She asked.
“Of course, so do I take that as a yes?”
“As long as I get that cup of hot chocolate.”
Everything spun around her. The melodies, the patterns, the lights and the cat. Her body fell on the creaky floorboards as she tried to reach for the door. Fingers digging into the popped up nail pins, knees rasping and gasps in apprehension were in vain as a hand grabbed her by her hair and dragged her to the deepest of her expectations.
He roughly picked her up and placed her on the table. The smell of a fresh body captivated the cat. It swirled around its master's leg a couple of times before jumping on the table. It wagged its tail between her legs and watched the menacing event unfold.
First, he grabbed a blunt knife and slit her wrists. She let out a soft groan of pain, and yes, she was alive. So alive that the fresh redness of her blood gloriously spilled on his boots. Another slit on her wrist with the blunt knife and she was losing consciousness. He put aside the knife and grabbed another one, a sharp one at that. Slowly, caressing her cheeks with his lumpy fingers, he slit her throat in a perfectly straight line. The cat mewed.
Finally, taking his master knife; The butcher's knife, he performed spectacularly. The art of cutting, dicing, and skinning was almost as if he was born with it. He danced with the blades, he sang with axes and he enjoyed playing with the cleaver. The cat purred and began cleaning himself, unconditionally ignoring the deadly scene in front of it. Bits and pieces of deep sawed meat plummeted on the already sticky floor. Red covered the entire basement of house 12. The last one on the street.
He heard the police sirens nearing his society. The cat stopped licking itself and ran upstairs while letting out soft meows and vigorous tail shakes. He went upstairs as well, calmly locking the basement door and draping his wallpaper over it. Peeking through the window, he saw the cops stop at the house across from him.
He changed into his usual night wear and sat in front of the fireplace. The cat quietly sat in front of the door. The bell rang. It was already midnight and Christmas Eve had ended.
Lethargically, he got up from his comfortable recliner and opened the door.
“Sorry to disturb you at this hour,” The cop sighed as he tiredly inclined his head.
“It’s fine, what is it, though?”
“Another missing person.”
“Huh? Another one?”
“Yeah, A teen, ash hair, around five six, lives right across you.”
“Yeah, you might have seen her maybe? Names Beth.”
“I might have seen her, yeah.”
“Man, it never ends…” The cop smacked his lips.
“I don’t think it will until we find the culprit before he kills another innocent person.”
“That’s why wear your damn uniform, Ray, the night has just begun. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Nathan.”
He slipped on his white shirt, black pant, black tie and black coat and snatched his FBI badge from on top of his shoe rack. Before leaving the house, his cat stared at him intently.
“Be right with you in a minute,” He said to Nathan and walked to the kitchen. Opening the freezer, he pulled out a bloody Ziploc, unzipped it and threw a few pieces of minced meat inside the cat’s bowl. Lee was his name.
It quickly rushed towards its bowl and sniffed.
“Hope this is enough for you, Lee,” Ray patted its head and kept the meat back in the freezer.
Lee heard the door close as he gazed at the raw food in front of him. He sniffed it once more. Then once more and then for the last time, however, he pushed the bowl away from him and made his way to the fireplace where he would wait for his owner to come back.
After all, human meat never really tasted good.
No Pain Tomorrow
"My name is Arata Aki and I love a girl who feels no pain." He looked across him and the girl he had abundant feelings for, stared back coldly.
Everyone in the circle cheered for them both cause they knew that the boy deeply loved the girl.
It was two weeks ago when he first saw her. He had just joined the rehabilitation and was heading to his room when the beautiful, scarlet head appeared before his eyes in bruises and bandages. Although, everything about her body appeared excruciatingly painful, her expression was as calm as the sea before the storm.
"A-are you okay...? He asked on impulse because there was no one to look after her. She was limping alone in the empty hallway, her thoughts unknown to the world around her. He couldn't help but wonder what might have happened to her but for now, he let it go because he was sure they would keep on encountering each other.
She heard him but she walked past because she hated conversations. She hated people, she hated herself, she hated her life in all. She questioned herself why she was even alive if she can't feel the one thing that makes us human. Pain.
She tried so hard to kill herself; savaging her arms, destroying herself in ways one would profoundly feel miserable of. However, none of her actions ended her life. In a twinkling of an eye, her life would be saved by strangers. Strangers that cared too seriously or a single life to be lost. So, she gave up. She gave up everything and everything of hers to only live like a puppet. She doesn't care, she doesn't talk, she doesn't mind anything that happens around her. But, unfortunately, she didn't know that there would be someone who would fall in love with her. She didn't know that there was guy in her destiny who would make her feel pain. Scarlet got up from her seat and left the circle without the counselor’s permission. The wooing and the laughter’s annoyed her to an extent. She wished she could turn back time and ignored Arata Aki when they had bumped into each other a few weeks ago.
"Hey, you're alright now?" Arata cheerfully asked. His smile was weak but he seemed to try his best.
"I am." She spoke unintentionally but soon realizing what she had done, she pursed her lips and walked past him without seeing his reaction.
His reaction? He fell deeper in love with her voice. It somehow soothed his heart and his heart yearned to hear more of it.
"W-wait!" He turned around, swiftly grabbing her wrist and stopping her. "What's your name?"
Scarlet was surprised to have her hand touched by someone for the first time. Or at least a guy who was her age, who looked handsome and was awfully interested in her.
For the first time, Scarlet's heart pulsed in different rhythms and waves. She could somehow feel her cheeks getting warm and a strange feeling overlapped her. A feeling she could describe but couldn't spill out with her tongue.
"Please, what's your name?" Arata’s soft voice made Scarlet's ears pink. She immediately averted her eyes to the side and hastily uttered her name. "Risa Scarlet." She wouldn't tell her name to anyone except the people who treated her. None of the patients knew her name but now one did. And she should have thought before about the consequences of disclosing her name because she didn't know that, that one guy would make it sound so enchanting.
As soon as Arata let her go, she turned around and walked away as fast as her legs could take her. Her heart thumped loudly and perhaps she didn't notice it, but a stream of tears that were filled with complex emotions stained her cheeks.
Arata instantly jolted from his seat and ran behind Scarlet. The wooing suddenly stopped and the counselor was readying himself to give them a speech on discipline and most likely, a piece of advice since he truly believes in young love and love at first sights.
Scarlet stopped on her tracks. Why did she do that? She could have just kept walking.
"I have said it a thousand times in three weeks and I'm gonna say it again..." Arata’s words were breathy. Risa could hear it. The loud heaving. The pain in his voice. She could feel it all but she didn't turn around. It didn't mean anything to her. Arata’s feelings were just writings on the wall for her. She didn't feel a thing for him so why waste time on something she doesn't have interest in? That's what she's been saying to herself for past three weeks at most.
"I love you."
The words came out smoothly. Like the weaving of the thread, and the passing of the clouds. No matter how many times Arata says the three magical words, he says it the exactly same way he said it for the first time. With the same emotions, the same tone, the same feelings and the same pain.
"I love you." Arata was standing in the rain. It was cold, it was freezing and the beating of his heart was fading but he stayed where he was because Risa was there. She loved rain. She loved every drop and every rainbow that comes after it. However, the sound of the rain made Arata’s words vanish like ashes. The world was colored grey and Risa was the only color that bled gracefully. She was looking overhead with her eyes closed, feeling every rain drop fall on her pale face and then slide down her throat. But Arata watched her till the end. He watched her till he no longer could. He watched the pretty portrait until his eyes were clouded.
"I know you love me too. Why won't you say it?" He slightly gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream at her. He wanted to tell her a thousand times more how intensely he loved her.
Slowly, Risa turned around. She faced him impassively. Her eyes were blank like an empty sky and her thoughts were suddenly unreadable.
"I don't love you. Stop loving me too."
Arata took a step forward. "I can't do that."
"Why can't you?"
"It's impossible." His heart was getting exhausted again but he tried not to show it on his face. Just a little longer...he thought.
"It is..." Arata was now inches away from Risa. "I can't stop loving you and you can't deny loving me."
"I said, I don't love you--" Unexpectedly, Arata touched her fingers, ever so lightly and delicately. Just a touch and he smiled.
"Are you sure you don't love me?"
Risa hesitantly nodded.
Arata played a tiny smirk on his chapped lips and stared into her hollow eyes. "Give me three days."
She frowned in perplexity. "Three days for what?"
"I will make sure that you take back what you said in three days."
Risa took a step back, away from the magnetizing touch of Arata’s cold finger.
"Do whatever you want to do but nothing's going to change. Not even in three days." She turned around in annoyance and walked away because Arata didn't matter to her. Arata wasn't and isn't supposed to be her in dull and insensate life.
"We'll see..." He clenched his heart and supported himself by the wall. His palms and temples had formed sweat and his knees were trembling to settle down somewhere. The heart was getting weaker but Arata’s feelings were becoming stronger and he promised himself that he wouldn't give up until he would hear the confession from Risa’s own tune.