Welcome to WonderlandFalling down, down, down
Spinning 'round and 'round
All around, the ticking of clocks
Such a discordant sound
Right is left and left is right
Night is day and day is night
Up is down and down is up
Life is death and death is life
Voices whisper from every niche
Screams echo and cause a twitch
Claws and teeth threaten to kill
Eyes wild with bliss of such a thrill
Run, hide, fight, or plead
Nothing shall work, nothing you need
The sun and moon will laugh as you cry
As the Queen shrieks her commands to the sky
Blood forms penumbras as heads roll
A cry of defiance with each bell toll
The jury turns in accord, madness shining bright
Their question full of words to make your skin crawl with fright
"ArE yOu AlIcE?"
T i c k
T o c k
T i c k
T o c k
"OfF wItH hEr HeAd!"
~Welcome to Wonderland, Alice~
Flights of FancyI believe in
I believe in lands somewhere over the rainbow
I believe in worlds hidden under the rabbit hole
I believe in kingdoms on the other side of the wardrobe
I believe in enchanted forests where animals talk in riddles
I believe in palaces where wizards entertain immortal kings
I believe in
in the magic and wonder that only a child's eyes can see
in the universes hopes and dreams can create with a single thought
I believe in everything that so many say are imaginary; in everything that so many people scoff at and call me fanciful and immature for believing in
However, I simply say to them:
"I just still have my imagination, is all."
Mute TranslucenceShe is trapped in a glass box
One which follows her every move
It is always caging her in
With invisible walls so everyone can see her inside
Yet barriers so thick no one can hear her pleas
A cry of desperation rises up from her crystalline prison
A lamenting wail so loud it threatens to shatter the mirrored bulwark
"Why won't anyone listen to me?
She listens for a response
As the crowds continue to rush past her enclosure
All brushing against the invisible walls
All seeming to forget she's there
There is no acknowledgement to her despondent appeal
but s i l e n c e
A Scholarly MasqueradeSometimes I like to pretend,
I'm like the Mariana Trench with my words.
That my fingers construct such eloquence,
as abyssal and profound as the Grand Canyon.
Yet the truth of the matter is that,
my heart has not been pulverized into dust.
I am about as succint and poignant,
as a rusted bucket.
PulsateWhat is a heartbeat,
without the heart?
What is a dream,
without the conscience?
What is a word,
without the letters?
What is a hope,
without the faith?
What is a soul,
without the self?
What is a kiss,
without the love?
What am I,
DreamDon't ever stop feeling what you want to feel. Reel in all the emotions you care to hold deep inside you, and nurture them within your heart. Embrace the sensation of being the only one to truly change your future, as long as you shove past all your doubts and reach the highest capacity your fingers can brush against. Advance towards your goal with your courage for a sword, justice for a shield, and all your hope forging the rest of your armor to brave every adversity you face. Make your passions you have in life happen, as long as you remember to accomplish one simple act.
Sweet EmilyEmily is six years old.
Emily lives with Mommy and Daddy in a big house.
Emily doesn't have very many friends because she doesn't go to school, but that's okay!
Emily has Tabitha! Tabitha and Emily are best friends. Tabitha looks like Emily, too! They both have blonde hair, though Tabitha always has hers in pig tails. They both have green eyes, too. Mommy and Daddy tell Emily that her green eyes means she has a biiiiig imagination; so that means Tabitha does, too! But sometimes Mommy and Daddy don't believe Emily when she tells them all the fun she and Tabitha have together…
They don't believe Emily when she tells them that it was Tabitha who used up all of Mommy's lipstick to make a picture on the wall. They don't believe Emily when she tells them that Tabitha was the one who broke the special plates in the locked cupboard that Emily can't reach. They don't believe Emily when she tells them anything Tabitha does, and it isn't Emily's fault.
"Oh, Emily, darling…it's pe
FrostbittenWinter is her favorite time of the year.
It's beautiful. Silver and blue dance around with one another in a waltz of freezing passion as snow and ice douse the land in a blanket of boreal glamour. Glass windowpanes become easels for falling snowflakes, frost etching into the smooth surfaces in intricate and unique patterns.
Winter has always been her favorite time of the year, and it always will be.
It is not because of Christmas--no, even though she loves the holiday, it is not what sparks her strong fondness for the star-colored blanketing across the land. Her infatuation with the snow and ice and everything cold has to do with something that most people don't truly believe in.
A boy whom she met long ago.
She still remembers the day like it was yesterday. Running around in the forest, laughing and tasting the snowflakes as they fell down into her parted lips and melting immediately on her tongue. All bundled up as a precaution, even though the winter has always been kind to h
Her Aesthetic CrusadeShe paints a world of crimson midnight,
and you watch the sanguine colors drip down her skin.
Wilted rose petals stain her wrist scarlet,
and canyons are carved deep in porcelain flesh.
"Battle scars," she tells you simply with a flick of the paintbrush,
meticulous as she resumes her sanguine masterpiece.
"Have you won?" you ask,
though you already know the answer.
She smiles fondly and holds up the tormented easel,
for all to see the newly wrought crevice of flaming burgundy.
"How can one win this war against the burning red, my friend,
when you can barely win the battle against yourself?"
Diamonds And GlassA human soul is like a glass vase. So fragile, so easy to break. Just one touch, and it can shatter into a thousand shards. So many pieces that not even a lifetime would be enough turns of the clock to meld it all back together.
So instead of being glass...
Why don't we turn our souls into diamonds instead?
After all, diamonds are one of the strongest materials to be found in nature that can be shaped into something beautiful.
Who wants to be seen as glass that can be pulverized with the slightest of pressure, when instead you can be viewed as one of the most durable and gorgeous souls in the world?
A Disease Called Loneliness...A Disease Called Loneliness...
Loneliness is a disease,
a sickness of sorts.
It is debilitating,
mind numbingly painful.
It is something
that can never go away on it's own.
No drugs have been invented
that can cure it and
no therapy can help treat it.
It is something that starts
with a broken heart and
can take your breath away
even in mid sleep waking you
as your lungs gasp for air.
Then when you think
it can get no worse.
It begins to spread
throughout your entire body
like a dreadful cancer.
I can feel it in the pit of my stomach now.
Gnawing away at both
my insides and my Soul...
as it creeps it's way outwards
tainting everything it touches...
I have felt traces of it
in my elbows and knees
and through out my arms and legs...
all the way to my fingers and toes.
Making me feel much older than I should.
So bad now in fact, people ask if I'm alright.
I do not make any noise,
I try and keep a straight face.
I try to act like all is ok.
But they say I look paler...
Waking NightmaresWaking Nightmares:
It begins in the same way, every single night
Fire spreading from an altar in the darkness
As all living beings are slowly consumed,
The coruscating flames appear wet with blood
The scene then changes to a flooded hallway
Live wires dangling just above the water,
Like venomous serpents slithering in the darkness
A single pounce would end my life
Eventually the hallway ends with a door,
One that reminds me of forgotten yore
And my thoughts shall be in rhyme at this point
As though lips and tongue are eternally joint
What maddened schemes have they in mind?
It is not a question, I may ask at this time.
Quickly I am brought before a bone-wrought throne
Kneeling as my flesh is carved 'Atone'
My thoughts return to me and they are normal now
I somehow retain awareness of where I am.
I see before me, a creature rising;
From the shadows it grins and bares its fangs
'I am the end, which you so desperately seek,
And the mo
No More TearsThere is a desert beneath her eyes
Dry, desolate, despairing
Devoid of life; devoid of emotion; devoid of hope;
Now just a broken ravine carved by sorrow
Now just a barren canyon chiseled by fear
Now just a fragmented chasm sculpted by dread
Now just a tearless void
Mother EarthShe has suns for eyes,
and oceans for tears,
a blade of grass for each hair,
and wisdom beyond her years.
Rage like an earthquake,
sorrow as deep as the sea,
madness funneled like a hurricane,
joy blooming so vividly, kings fall to their knee.
Her skin is a motley,
with hues so dark and bright,
she sleeps during the day,
and lays awake at night.
She has the universe for a heart,
and the cosmos burn in her soul,
however, humanity's blindness,
is at last taking its toll.
To My Guardian AngelDear guardian angel,
Don't be too offended by this, but...are you even real? Are you watching me type this out right now, this second, like you should be? Or are you just some entity that is said to exist, but in reality, it's just a lie?
I want to know, if you are real, then why haven't I exactly gotten the guidance I need lately. Why haven't you protected me, like you're said to do, from all the things in my life that make me feel like I'm dying inside?
Why haven't you protected me from myself?
If you have tried, then, well...obviously you haven't tried hard enough for me to realize it or sense it.
Please. Try harder.
If you are truly real, guardian angel, then you know about my beliefs. You know that all those religious ideals that were drilled into me from the first day I could comprehend what the word "God" meant are slowly being replaced by nothing but cynical skeptism. You know that sometimes I would rather put what "faith" I do have in demons as opposed to angels,
''The dead have feelings, too.''"Aria."
Though I am still reeling from our previous argument, I force down my pride and turn my head to face where Darien's voice is coming from. I'm sure my cheeks are flushed with rage, yet I constrain the cluster of spiteful and venomous words that are still dripping on the tip of my tongue.
Darien's form comes into view--the rage from just minutes before must have made him lose his corporeal appearance--and instantly his eyes meet mine. They are still somewhat cloudy with anger, but as we stare down one another in silence, I see that anger slowly change into something more or less acceptance. He sighs, running a hand through his shaggy brown hair. It is a gesture I have come to known, one he does only when he is truly upset.
Being dead, after all, Darien prefers not to touch anything--not even himself--if he can help it.
"You are a necromancer, Aria. I can't expect you to see my side of the argument. After all, you grew up around death. To you and your kind, death is just a weapon
I Hate YouI have something to say to a certain someone. Someone who I know will read this. Do you want to know what my secret is--even though it isn't much of a secret to the person this is meant for?
I hate you.
I hate you because you're always lying, always pretending everything is okay and just making up excuse after excuse.
I hate you because you can't just suck it up and stop being such a child, trying to make everyone else just as miserable as you.
I hate you because you never seem to do your best anymore, even though you insist time after time that you are.
I hate you because you're pathetic and weak, and you're too terrified to go through with the things you constantly swear you're going to do.
I hate you because you want to think that the entire world is out to get you, and you refuse to attempt to make life a little easier for yourself.
I hate you because you can't stop complaining instead of trying to make things better.
I hate you
The Fool and the Cynic"He's so sweet and amazing, I'm sure we're meant to be!"
That's what all girls say about their first boyfriend.
"You know, he's really cute too. Plus, he has cute friends!"
Your definition of "cute" normally doesn't include manners or intelligence.
"He took me out for dinner and kissed me after he asked! He's the one! We're going to go to college together!"
Are you an idiot? These types of relationships rarely last...focus on life, not puppy love.
"...hey...we're fighting...I think he hates me now...did I call him too much? Text him too much?"
Try "Was I too naïve?" or maybe even "Did I talk about myself too much?"
"Oh, God...he broke up with me...he thinks we can't be happy. But we...said we loved one another...What do I do?"
Get over it and concentrate on something that's more important. Like your friends. Like me. Or do you only talk to me so you can rub HIM in my face?
"We're getting back together! See, I told you he loves me! And I love him!"<
How many days do you spend now, putting me down?
The coffin call for a dead man waiting around
"He's just an underground laughing stock, never to rise"
But on the seventh day I'm coming back; these are my ties!
The kind of promise that you made with the devil inside
You try to take away my soul, but I take it in stride
I ain't a doll that is crushed by the weight of his pride
I am the real and the raw of the things you denied!
You're playing snake games, selling oil, pass it off strong
You're just a pot head, weed dead, smoking your bong.
You try to look away, play and hide; apathy's best
But I'm the kind of bad boy you don't put to the test!
-Chen Yuan Wen, 7th February 2013
brokeni. i don't know
if i'll ever understand
why you walked away
and made that summer morning
feel like the coldest winter
ii. you act like
it's all my fault
and can't even see
how much it's killing me inside
iii. oh honey please
stop playing the victim card
it really doesn't suit you very well
especially when i know the truth
iv. do you understand
everything you've done
or are you going to keep
LifeOne moment, you're there. The next, you're not. Simple as that. And yet, it's so complex, so mystifying. It easily perplexes many. How can it be so close, so intimate to us, and yet remain a mystery like that? Such a small event being so big? Having such a huge effect? These unanswered questions express the mystery and uncertainty of those who feel its effects. They were so healthy, so happy...
But now you'll never see their face again. Hear their voice. Feel their touch.
The tears stream down the faces of the close ones. They hold onto one another, thinking that, if they hold on tight enough, that person passed might feel as well, and come back to them. They don't want to recognize the fact that it's all over. All of it. They cling to a wish. That wish is slowly pushed away as time progresses and sanity returns. They run out of tears. The future is dark to them, filled with some more of these tragic cases. They turn to the past, where everyone is still "there." They let themselves get
I will break youYou held my heart
Until your hands froze
And shattered to a million pieces
You turned and ran
Like I had told you
'I break everyone.'
You refused to believe it
And did all you could
To piece me back together
I'm sorry to say it my dear
But you failed rather miserably
another collection of syllablesi. when will these pathetic
11:11 wishes slipping past my lips
every blessed star-lit night
finally come true?
ii. you are my golden girl
helping me shine brighter
than the summertime sun
until the day we both
iii. you make me wanna scream
wrap your head around this tree
until you're molded into it
breaki break my heart,
to break my bondage,
and in the dark
i cut myself to sleep.
used to cry myself to sleep.
so which is better?
there's no confort in their smiles.
in their hugs, no warmth.
there's no fullfilment in my tears.
there's no real pain in bleeding.
half my time spent numb,
half spent denying.
all those nights spent crying.
there's nothing in my arms now.
there's no one in my heart.
can i ever feel again?
do i ever want to?
i do as i'm told,
not as they want.
i let life unfold
at my feet with no effort.
i push people away
because i can't feel
or maybe because
i feel it all.
i break my heart,
to break my bondage,
and in the dark
i cut myself to sleep.
used to cry myself to sleep.
so which is better?
Hopeless BlissI've known all along
But hidden it deep inside
Now I'm going to let it out
And you're going to hide
I don't know if it's clever
To show every scar
I should trust my head
But I'm going with my heart
When you brush against my skin
The only thing I want to do
Is feel your warmth
And hold on to you
When we touch
I still see that spark in your eyes
If you see it too
It wouldn't be a surprise
The next time we kiss
It's going to mean more
It's going to give you shivers
That reach every single pore
I'll wrap my arms around you
And show you what I've hidden for so long
My kiss will show this hidden world
That I live in when I'm tired of staying strong
And the feelings will come rushing back
Straight back into your soul
I'll cherish the beautiful moment
That we are once again whole
I'll stare into your eyes
As hopeful as ever
Wishing with every atom of my body
That we'll stay like this forever
Until that day comes
I'll imagine it with a heartbroken smile
I'll pretend that everything's okay again
boy from my dreamsi had a dream last night
about a boy with stars in his eyes
who made me feel more alive than ever
and made my heart leap more than fish begging for food
he kissed me so unselfishly
and held me as if he was scared i'd break
trying to put me back together
with each kiss, hand hold, and shared sigh
'you're beautiful, every little piece darling'
his voice melted my insides and the drops
so full of joy ran out my eyes
and he kissed them all away