Ooooooooo.

Ooooooo.
A ghost approaches you. A cute ghost.
Possesses you—now you’re the host.
You rampage on a killing spree
Barking about at every tree
Oooooo.
This was the moment
You loved most.

.

.

.

.

.

.

 

Advertisements

To my friend

Why are you such a good friend?
I meek and pale in front of you
I truly fail to be like you
And still, I love to be with you

Stumbling, I fall into your arms
You hug me tight, ward off all harms
You shut away all the alarms
Your caring eyes fill me with joy
Make me feel young like a small boy
You are my master, I’m your toy

Like dog, I follow you around
Your order is my blissful sound
To you forever I am bound
My passion for you is so dire
No longer love, it’s pure desire
I am a slave in your empire

Like hawk, I watch your every move
You walk around with such a groove
There’s nothing that you need to prove
From you I hear the truths unfold
From ‘nother world, those bricks of gold
Your silence still ever so bold

Like snake, I bite the enemies goodbye
Here we are different, you and I
I love your tears when you cry
You’re able to feel so much more
Your soul has witnessed blood and gore
Your pain is something I adore

Why are you such a good friend?
Your dog wags tail in front of you
Wise hawk seeks ways to be like you
Cold snake finds warmth in loving you

.

.

.

.

Vivid.
So vivid.
Emotions splatter.
Taking me on a roller-coaster of feelings.
Watching myself from afar
I cannot help but applaud
The Creator.

My fear amazes me.
It makes me think.
It makes me believe.
It shows me that I care for things—
Things that aren’t even there
Which makes the experience
Even more frightful.

My passion meets its end.
Suddenly, abruptly
Everything has gone astray
There is no sense in
Life after death.

My love was not enough.
Through a series of unfortunate events
Though largely due to my own incapability
I have suffered loss.
To revisit such a dream
To try again and to correct my mistakes
Feels like cheating.

My failures cannot be overwritten.

But do I condemn
The Creator?
No.
Rather, I applaud the brilliant play
In which I got to partake.
For tragedy is most entertaining.

.

.

.

The strangest feeling

Isn’t it the strangest feeling
To be able to experience a person
That’s no longer with us
With video, audio, images
Aiding our perception
Feeding it, making it stronger

You might say it’s just an illusion
Why, illusions are all we ever see
A stream of photons hitting our eyes
Waves moving through the current
Electrons chaining through our body
And you say you trust your perceptions?

No matter the source, it’s the result
That makes up the story
Two roads that lead
To the same destination
Creating the shape of whom
We believe to be someone

.

.

.

.

.

Time to wake up?

Is this the correct time to wake up?
My eyes say no
Inside the pitch-black darkness
They’ve nothing to show

Is this the correct time to wake up?
My hands say no
Holding on to a cup of coffee
Afraid of letting go

Is this the correct time to wake up?
My hair says no
Sticking out in all directions—
In protest so

Is this the correct time to wake up?
My legs say no
Schlepping around in circles
With nowhere to go

Is this the correct time to wake up?
My mind says no
If there are some other reasons
It doesn’t want to know

Is this the correct time to wake up?
My gut says yes!
For if I don’t wake up now
It’ll be a mess!

.

.

.

.