Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Have you ever?

Have you ever

Have you ever felt the pain 
A man or woman can give?

Have you ever lost everything
That you alone had done?

Have you ever felt your body
Slowly crumble
Slowly and gradually
Causing you more pain
Ripping you apart
And goes for the glory?

Have you ever felt
Your family against and neglecting
Your wishes, your hopes, your dreams,
Your loves, your hates, your everything?

Until you finally are left
With a dwindle of what’s there
Ready to succumb to the fate of death

Now, have you ever?

Monday, September 5, 2016

Togetherness

Togetherness

We’ve been together four years,
Four years in a school 
Where we’ve become family, friends, and lovers
And even more.

We’ve been together, staying up late at night,
Studying for tests,
Doing homework together,
Cramming for the regents,
Cramming for finals,
Cramming for Advance Placement Tests,
And how can we forget,
Procrastinating together.

We’ve been together, in school,
We’ve been late to our classes,
Procrastinating to get back to our class, 
After getting the bathroom pass,
Doing homework in other classes,
Passing notes to each other,
Skipping classes,
And cheating during some classes.

We’ve been through thick and thin,
Through heartbreak,
When we had fights with our families,
When we were having a bad day,
And so much more.

But now we’re leaving each other,
Changing our families,
Changing our entire lifestyle
That we’ve been living through the past four years,
And being together from far away places,
Together in our hearts and soul.

Monday, August 8, 2016

Unnamed Horror Story

The house clock was set at 6 a.m. All through the house was quiet. The family of five was dead. A mom, a dad, two boys and a girl. No one knew how they died. Only speculations. Speculations of what happened. Speculations of how they died. Speculations of everything that happened that night.

No one knew of what happened. So the police came to check up on the problems. One police office name was Pedro Gonzalez. Pedro Gonzalez was “the best of the best.” He broke all the  cases that came. All the closed files. All the cold leads. He solved them all. However, this one may be a challenge for him. Challenge of belief. Challenge of ideas. Challenge of everything he has ever stood for.

Pedro Gonzalez looked around the room looking for any clues. There was a cake on the table which read “Happy Birthday Diana.” Most likely it would be the dead girl’s cake seeing there were only eighteen candles on it. The tables were full of gifts. Twelve gifts. Three with blood stains. And the rest ripped open. Seeing this, Gonzalez was sure that they were killed after they lighted the candles seeing the candles were waxing the cake. It should have happened after Diana opened nine of her presents. 

The last three presents were from Jane, Z and Kook. These threw a big lead. Gonzalez asked his colleagues to find these three people. He tried to find the wrappings of the other presents to find out who sent what. Four of them were from her parents. Tim and Bonnie, and two brothers, Carlton and Karl. It took a while to find the last five presents. But Pedro finally found it in the garbage accompanying the kitchen. He looked for names. Names to tell where they could’ve been, could’ve done. Anything to tell the scene of the crime. Pedro remembered a saying his forensics and law teacher has always said, or at least meant to say, “No matter how messy, how clean the scene of the crime is, there is always something that the criminal left behind. Something for forensic officers, police officers to use to find out everything and anything they wish to ask.” Pedro found the five names finally, Jason, Joanne, Kimberly, Anna, and Mandy. Pedro asked his other colleagues to go find these people. 

He then went to study the scene of the crime. He tried to distinguish which blood had dried the longest to figure out who died first. Trying to predict what had happened. The father was below the mother on the couch; there was definitely a struggle here. The son across the dining table. The daughter stuck and killed on the chair. Pedro calculated all the blood splatters into his head. He figured out where each and every single one of the attacks was done. The daughter was killed first. Then the son. The parents must’ve yelled for helped and tried to attack the criminal. The dad fell first, then the mother. Pedro figured out all that had happened and left. Waiting to receive a file from the forensics team. 

Three days later, the forensics team was done analyzing everything that were found at the scene of the crime. They checked the bodies. They looked and analyzed everything they found. Pedro found it odd that they even brought the cake and food over. But bringing the food, they food hair, neither belonging to the family. It was part of a wig. A wig from a clown, seeing it was multicolored. Pedro read all the files. Analyzed every spec of anything analyzed. He was reading the files until 3 in the morning. He decided to head home bringing all the files with him home.

Upon getting home, he heard strange noises as he walked pass the dim lit lights. There were rustling in the bushes but it was just the wind. It nearly scared Pedro half to death. He kept heading home. Finally he got there.

Pedro’s house had hanging Christmas lights still hanging on the front porch. He opened the metal door which rusted. He then turned the knob to the second wooden door. He finally reached his door and unlocked it and entered. He walked up the stairs hearing creaks. He even heard the door open. But he distinctively remembered closing it. Afterwards he took off his shoes. He stairs creaked. As if someone walked up it. Every room could hear the creaks of the stairs. 

Pedro walked into the house. He left on some soup on the stove while he washed yesterday’s dishes thinking about how to solve the case. The soup had began to boil over. He closed the fire. Accidentally burning his arm as he closed the fire. He ate the soup while watching television. He was still hungry. He boiled some water. And prepared some cup noodles to eat. 

As he boiled the water, he walked to the first door down a long pathway to his guestroom. The first door was the bathroom. He went in and opened the shower. Hot water boiled over. As he undressed to get in, words appeared in the bathroom mirror. It read “Pedro, you’ll never solve this case. For tonight is the last night. You will solve it only upon your death.” Pedro chuckled. Laughing at the message. He finished his shower and dried off in time to go close the fire for the water. He poured it into the cup noodle and left it there for five minutes.

He later went into his guestroom. He went down the dark hallway and entered into the room. He couldn’t find the switch. He saw a figure by the window. He was scared. Finally he found the switch. When it opened it was just the tree and the fan that he left in the room in case any of his guests were cold. He cleaned up. After a while, he closed the light. But he saw a quick shadow running between the hallway. He just thought it was the trees again. So ignored it. He went to the bathroom to clean up. As he cleaned up in the sink, he opened the curtains to the shower to clean up the hair in the drain. 

However, a figure popped out and choked him to death. Pedro gasped for air in order to live. He moved. He kept moving. Trying to grasp his last breath of air. He was trying to turn around. Turn around to see who it was. When he finally did, he said, “it’s you?” 

Pedro awoke from his dream. Pedro said, “Huh what was that about?” he saw his finished bowl of soup on the table. The television still on. It was nearly 6 am now. He didn’t have to go to work until 9 am today. The sun had not risen yet. It was still dark out. Pedro decided to sleep on his bed instead. He walked to the bed. He saw a doll that his mom gave him before she passed away. He had remembered storing the doll away in a box under his bed for thirteen years. Pedro wondered, “Why is this doll out? Mom always knew I was scared of this.” 

The doll looked like a human figure. A cute little blue shirt, with jeans. Along with real hair from his mother. Along with a lunchbox. The face, constructed with the utmost precision to look more realistic. Pedro decided to take the doll and place it back under his bed. As he went under, the box which held the doll slid out. Pedro said, “Thank you.” 

There was an eerie wind, with a sound that whispered, “You’re welcome.” The figured was hiding under Pedro’s bed. It was a clown. A clown that dragged Pedro under the bed. The bed moved left and right. Until finally, Pedro came out from under the bed. 

Pedro’s neck, his legs, his arms all twisted. Blood coming out from his ears. The clown had killed Pedro. Pedro finally knew what had happened over the ages. But could never tell the story again. All he could do was dream a never ending dream.

Stories can be told. Stories can be passed down. Some may not sound real but they are in fact true. True to the end where the meaning and truth lies beneath the words. Until today, secrets are hidden everywhere. Until the truth can be found. Cold files. Closed cases. Those can only be solved with our imagination and hidden secrets of the pasts.

Friday, July 1, 2016

LifeLess

I flew away
into the admists of the land
that we call life.

Life has ended
for i was not saved
laying here
is me
for i cannot be saved.

Wednesday, June 1, 2016

Snow

The snow falls,
upon the thick of your leaves
you carry upon
the weight of the storm
never complaining
never letting go
until it decides to fall away
it carresses you
touches you
but you never let go
snow
snow
snow

Monday, May 2, 2016

untitled

Climbing up my hill,
Never seeing the top,
When can I ever get there?

I can never seem to see the top,
I seem to always be further and further away,
Does life hate me?

Life seems to give me so many obstacles,
To jump over,
To fall over.

It always seems to want to rain on me,
Give me pain,
Give me despair,
I’m sick of this.

Life is beginning to feel like shit,
That I just want to disappear,
And see that no one I know would care,
No one would see,
Exactly how I feel now,
And leave me in the shadows.

Friday, April 1, 2016

UNTITLEDD

Do you know how it feels,
to be constantly ripped and thorn
by the things of the past
by the things of the future.

day by day,
one part of yourself dies
you see yourself no where in sight

it's all because of you i feel this way
im scared of love
im scared of day
im scared of night
im scared to open my heart
to those i cherish
knowing how much
they can rip it up 
in the end.

its because of you
that i feel all this pain inside
yet you always come by
to say hi and then goodbye
and repeat night and day
over and over again.

when can this confusion end
it's all up to you
i cannot say or do
anything you set your mind to