Wish

I fixed my eyes on you.
Time stopped when your hand found mine.
As for breathing,
It became something I had to think about.
The seconds pass,
The seasons come and go,
But you’re not close enough.
I need your warmth.
I need your embrace.
I need to know you’re not just a memorie I have to retrace.
Come back to me,
Call my name.
Because I don’t want to let you go.
Not again.

First Day

So…today is the first class on the first day of school–university–and I’m not exactly as hyped up as I thought I’d be.
I have to give the teacher a chance, but his constant babbling before giving instructions or landing on the point sort of stresses me.
I wonder what grade I’ll have by the end of the semester…

~Moon~

I’m falling down into my shadow as I try to get out this deadly night.

Even if it’s scary and watch as the evil witches make fun of me,

I want to see you in my dreams and get out of this nightmare.

Those blue eyes of yours are guiding me towards the black paper moon.

I try to believe there’s a way out, but I’m lost.

Please let me see the light and wake up.

That destiny we’ve been trying to get away from,

Grasp it with those hands and break it.

No evil deeds shall be done.

Nobody will be scared again.

I know that our meeting meant the end of a bond,

But the beginning of time moving forward,

So, please,

Don’t forget those words you once whispered to me.

My moon, you’ve given me a reason to go on.

As I am not there with you,

Remember that no matter what I’ll find you.

You are the light in this lethal night.

Alice IV ~excerpt~

***
He couldn’t see nor breathe, and the bleeding wouldn’t stop. He’d taken off his shredded and dirty shirt and tried to use it as a bandage, but it had only infected his injury, making it worse. His time was running out, literally running out of him.
Everything left him. Everyone hurt him. Nobody needed him.
“Are you lost, boy?” a melody whispered. At least, it sounded like music to his ears, like a sad, yet beautiful, song. A woman’s voice.
He couldn’t answer, the wounds had gotten the best of him, and was slowly losing his conscience, but he could feel her warmth. Her scent was as sweet as honey but as misleading as liar’s promise.
“Oh, the poor thing,” she gasped and kneeled to get a better look at the lonely boy leaning against the wall. When her hand touched his face, he felt a rush of electricity run through his body. He flinched, surprised by how gentle her touch was. It wasn’t unexpected, as the poor child had been beaten countless times that day.
Suddenly her arms wrapped around the boy’s neck. “You’re so weak and naive, child.” Her words embraced him in a hurricane of pain and shame, but it was the truth. Since the moment he was born in that world, he was meant to be stepped on and manipulated. He was meant to be another nameless number—someone with a soundless voice.
“Tell me, boy, what do you want?” she asked and held him closer. Her scent was familiar to him, but what was it?
He wished he could return the embrace, he wanted her warmth, her scent, her protection, but most importantly he wanted her time.
The boy pursed his lips, then opened his mouth and tried to give the liquid thoughts on his mind a solid form. Only silence was mentioned. The silent world he’d been living in. A world that toyed with him and would throw him away whenever it pleased.

Unfaithful

As soothing as a hot coffee when it’s freezing outside,
Words are to me as empty as the void in people’s voice.
A single word sways me,
A single phrase overwhelms my mind to the point of madness.
Thoughts that aren’t clear,
Words that are not to be said.
A wound that hasn’t been undisclosed.
I’ve seen greed, though I can’t agree.
My actions are like baby steps,
As of the world I know nothing of.
But don’t be harsh on me,
Since you’ve bound me without chains.
Fire that burns and saves me.
Warmth that soothes and exasperates me.
It’s the naivety I carry,
The blindness that embraces the darkness,
The fear of losing myself,
The horror of being treated as a child and noticing that what I’ve been told is nothing but a mere lie.
I’ve been called a fool,
I’ve been called wise but of you I’m afraid.
So when I look in the mirror and it’s your eyes looking back at me,
Piercing my very core,
That I avert my eyes and pretend I haven’t seen your true self—my true self.

Guilty

Hiding and blooming flower,
I pray but there’s no answer.
My words echo in return.
Would you please tell me,
Why do people hurt each other?
Valiantly hiding flower,
I beg you, please answer,
What can you see from your concealed field?
Before the flames catch up to you, whisper to me,
Why can’t people forgive each other?
As droplets of suffering rain down on your paradise,
The fire finally vanishes,
but won’t you still perish?
Bringing in a cold summer,
the blue color of the sky has turned gray.
All alone now,
You tremble before me.
Silence has chained you.
As you watched your friends wilt around you,
what did you think?
With your leaves now unable to speak,
how can you convey love?
The words you want to say are being carried by the breeze.
I shall whisper a prayer as proof that you once lived.
Surrounded by those who have lost their names,
I’ll call your name until the day I see you again.

Francais

As I learn more and more French, I notice the similarities between my native language and French. Both coming from Latin, yet having their “own thing”. For example, French sounds much more ‘soft’, while the other has an aggressive tone. Though what I find utterly annoying is the grammar. While one is difficult, the other is not only difficult but as confusing as trying to discover the meaning of life. Nah… I’m kidding. But it has a more complex structure than my native language. Too much accents and ways of pronouncing the same letter. Yet I can’t help it. I’ve fallen in love with it. I really wish I could dominate the language throughly one day.

A little thought

One can’t really be sure of anything. Life is tricky and leads you to believe that, sometimes, what you have will stay as yours. You have probably heard a thousand times that life is borrowed–they couldn’t have been more right. That’s the main reason why we should enjoy the smallest things in life and be thankful that we have them. Not onlt with things but with people. How many times, as teenagers, don’t we wish our parents would just leave us alone? Then one day, as an adult, you receive a phone call with someone on the other side of the line telling you your mom or dad has passed away. It’s probably a little exaggerated, but things like that happen. We are bound to make mistakes in life. We’re human, that’s why we are here– to make mistakes. Yet if someone would have told me that time not only passes but changes things, I would have enjoyed a lot more of those little, apparently insignificant things.

~From The Distance~

I want you by my side.

I’m sorry if this hurts you, but I really miss your warmth and your scent.

I want to be close to you.

All the memories… don’t let them run down the drain.

Don’t make it as hard as you think it is.

It’s a lot easier than it seems.

I wish you were here.

I wish you’d hold me tight and never let go of me.

I want to drown in your voice and touch.

Show me that you believe in what we have.

Distance…it’s not enough to get me.

I love the very essence of you.

It’s not enough to get me.

It’s not enough to pull me apart from you.

I truly believe in you and in what we share.

Don’t let it get you.

Don’t let it blind you.

Just let me guide you.

Heed my voice and follow.

I’m never letting you go astray.

“Alice?” ~Excerpt~

There were stains that looked like strawberry gashes all over my jacket. It had been raining for two days now, and the streets had begun to resemble streams of polluted water. Every building in that godforsaken city was being cleaned by the rain, or so it might seem to an outsider. To me, it was still as filthy as sewage.

How long had it been since I’d gotten there? I closed my eyes and tried to remember—to pick up something, hoping I’d dig up a memory. Images of fire and blood, the smell of smoke, and the twisted metal of a car tumbled through my mind. The pictures wrapped around me, suffocating me and shaking me out of that shack—sending me somewhere far away from my reality. Then I heard a groan, coming from the other side of the door. I cracked my neck and took a deep breath, in an attempt to focus. I adjusted the white mask on my face and exhaled. I had forgotten about the guy in the adjacent room. God, did I need some sleep!

I dragged my feet until I was a couple of inches away from the door. Rain splattered loudly against the window, as though someone had thrown a bucket of water against the pane. The groaning turned to wailing. I sighed and leisurely turned the knob. The door creaked when I did. A crackle of lightning flickered across the darkness, illuminating the curled up figure on the floor.

It was the silhouette of a man—a dying man. His face, once attractive, was unrecognizable, each of his hands left with only two fingers, one of his feet mutilated, and his back covered in bruises and scabs. He hadn’t had a drop of water in the last two days nor had he eaten anything. Yet, he wouldn’t budge. His body had been beaten to a pulp, and now, even as he was hovering between life and death, not a word had escaped his lips. Not counting all the bitching, of course.

I crouched down and surveyed the guy lying on his own blood. “You could have made things a lot easier.”

The man looked up and stared at me for what seemed like hours. I waited for an answer but didn’t say anything. I just gazed back, trying to find his eyes in his swollen face. The image of the woman he held dear appeared in my mind. She’d been in the basement for four days now. I had been feeding her so she wouldn’t die, but the drug I’d put on her food was starting to affect her more than I’d imagined. She wasn’t going to last another day. If I was going to use her as my trump card, it had to be now.

“Hey,” I said with a grin, “want me to tell you something interesting?”

The guy cocked his head to the side, then up. “Fuck you,” he spat. His breathing was uneven and his voice hoarse, but the strength in it never faltered. Quite interesting.

I shook my head and stood, towering over him. “That’s not very smart of you, Nathan.”

“Same goes for you, asshole,” he hissed. The hate coming from him was almost palpable.

“Oh, Nathan,” I murmured, placing my right foot on his left cheek, “you’re forgetting who’s got the upper hand.”

I pressed his head with my boot with all my mind, hoping I’d give him one last taste of physical pain. He shrieked and writhed in agony. It was like watching a cockroach burn—defenseless, yet stubborn. I lifted my foot when I heard something crack. I glanced down. He was coughing blood and some of his front teeth. His jaw didn’t seem broken, though. He, then, twisted awkwardly. I eyed him curiously. The whole picture was funny, at least to me. A well-built, six-feet-tall guy trying to scramble to his feet and failing miserably wasn’t something you see every day, and it looks pretty pathetic. I tried hard not to laugh as I left the room with the pitiable man in it.

I fished a blade out of my jacket’s pocket, examined the cutting edge, put it back into my pocket, and headed to the basement. I surveyed the room, once I pushed the door open. The girl was still where I’d left her a day ago—beside the powder kegs. She hadn’t moved an inch, and her breathing was almost imperceptible. She was lying on her side, she had pale white skin, her red hair covered her face, and long eyelashes dressed her eyes. She looked at peace, as if having a nice dream.

I kneeled beside her and studied her features, imprinting her in my mind. I traced the outline of her face with my fingers, as if reassuring myself that she was real, and squeezed my eyes shut.

“I’m sorry, Helen,” I whispered to myself, since she couldn’t hear me.