Pen

Spaghetti

<•>

I remember being of full, of it being

Sweet but not too much as it

Bursts nicely

In my mouth;

The long noodles of tomato

Sauce and

Meatballs,

Creamy cheese melted

And I’d eat, eat, eat,

Like I’m chugging something

Addictive

My lips was covered; red

And messy—

And I’d remembered being

Full that It’d ask “Spaghetti”

For my Birthday,

Ten years later after that

Memory

Power

”How the mighty hath fallen.”

I said this to the man.

His body was adorned with gems

It looked pure alone, but under his they are lower than dirt.

.

Before me was the lord of the fief

Once I had idolized him

But that was before he robbed me of my family

And my feelings as a human being.

.

I thought that power could save me

So I picked up his post

Terrorizing the land

Orders and whip lashes

And finally, I gained what I need.

But now

Decades had passed

Jewellery clothed me

Maidens had been ravaged by me

The citizens’ smiles were sweet

Life is good

Yet my heart didn’t agree, laying only still.

.

Suddenly my vision became red

Voices came, but only from my mouth

It wasn’t words, it wasn’t pleads of beg or help—

but indescribable yelps.

.

Then I was laid on a wooden platform

A thin long metal loomed over me.

I looked at the people

Their faces still wore the same mask

.

Smiling but yet laced with contempt

And revenge.

.

I tilted up my head, my eyes following, as far as I can go.

.

I realized

Even with the behaviour they showed

And jeers whenever they opened their lips

I had felt nothing.

.

As if, ever since, nothing had changed.

.

”Oh how the mighty hath fallen.”

Then I felt myself disconnect.

The promise of repetition

Is a weak peace of mind,

Dangling like the balance

Of rickshaws,

Shared one and two-ways

Derailing thoughts

To the station tracks for long

And then, and then

…

.

The promise of repitition

Is of no reprieve from

Moans of limbs

As you hung on the mountain, the

Little helper a rope on your waist

And with the stopper

Called friend,

A human;

A dog;

A cat;

A plant;

A memory;

A sentiment;

A friend;

.

…A person.

.

Repitition is of a phase—

Should be a phase,

For staying in limbo

Bears lightness

No person could take

Without risking all

For the sake of

Finding

A peace.

Humanity

<•>

One day a void was struck, turning limitless blue—

Then land began to pile above

Dots started to appear, both in the air, the ground, and the sea, moving and alive Dots turned bigger, shifting into the tallest, the smallest, or between.

Ecosystem began.

But even with that, all things must come to an end.

Take an example, the dinosaur age. When they were the loudest to roar, the king of all, they were weak—

Atleast, to mother nature that is.

Mountains began to move and the lushes of fields disconnect—

And then they were gone, we came about, taking the crown of the king in our heads. So it made me think; isn’t this the circle of life?

You live, you die, that’s what I mean.

Sometimes you might get remembered if people like your work, sometimes you’re just one of the many without a name or have a part of a legacy.

Even then we’ll be someday extinct.

I mean something similar happened before right? The bronze age and such?

But still we continue to muse, we continue to invent, innovating as much as we could get from both in and out. Heck even space came about!

Why?

It’s because of faith. We believe and blindly persist even with the answer we have and I say this;

Why not just continue? Even with the knife on our neck?

I mean we lived for more than ten thousand years, molding the simple phrase Live then die to the complicated There’s more than meets the eye.

I mean what’s there to lose? Live, live without a linger to regret!

I am Me

I am a contradicting, careless traveler

I wonder if I could ever relate to all living things

I hear tumbles and rumbles that makes me act on impulse

I see colours blending, shaping my world

I want to share my view of universe with my hands

Letting them see the diversity it has

I am a contradicting, careless traveller

I pretend to be predictable but in truth

I want to feel unpredictable

I touch my consciousness and see my deeper self

Worrying if my words are permanent or fake

I cry my confusion and regrets away to see my present reality

I am a contradicting, careless traveller

I understand that everything is connected

I say the world’s end is the beginning of life

I dream flickering images of my future

I try to see it all

And hope to grow

I am a contradicting, careless traveller

Be With Me

Inspired by, Yandere Simulator.

••••••••••

As the sun took a peek, it's rays shine down upon the busy roads. A young man with short chestnut hair, with school uniform on was seen as one of the crowds.

Many people bypass him, walking and bumping along without even a mutter of an apology (Not like he can say anything, after all, he's the same). As he goes with the flow to his destination, a shiver went up his spine.

He turns slightly, found nothing out place. He waited for a bit. Then faces back to the front, continuing at a faster pace when he took a peek on his phone(?).

He goes faster.

His heart pounded, eyes dilating as he now took a full blown sprint….

…. Only stopping when he reach the gate for the train station.

He went inside, and took a seat. He felt his ears ringing, feeling more tired than ever. He should've exercised more.

As he started to think more calmly, he felt like he forgot something.

His lunch? He checked, It was here.

His books? Same thing.

His phone? Yup, safe in his body.

What did he forgot?

As he feel in deep thought, he kept glancing around the area. He caught something at his sight.

A minute left, until his train arrived.

… He'll think about it in the train.

As he stands up, he goes close to the yellow line with an appropriate distance.

A phone buzzed on his pocket. He raised a brow. Since, when did they text him at this time of day.

He took it out, and found a message. From an unknown number.

“....?”

He checks the message.

.. Oh?

He clicks down.

Oh!

A few seconds passed as he keeps clicking down.

.. H-huh?

His breath hitched. His grip loosen suddenly. As his phone tumbles down, his colour turned white.

He went to the back, following the letter's words. It says to wait here. Honestly, he didn't want to, but the push and nitpicking from his friends we're getting on his nerves. And they promised to make it worse than it is, if he didn't go.

No choice but to do it, he went. But, he didn't expect a confession.

A love confession at that.

His brain short circuited after, he didn't remember the rest.

He only snap out of it when he heard the announcer of the train. He turns--

--and suddenly felt himself flying. With a person hugging him.

Ah.. now he remembered. He rejected them and took off.

Guess this is -------

All he remember seeing then was a red line speeding down to him, until his sight turned dark.

••••••••••

Question.

Who hugged him?

How Unfortunate

As the man gazes his sight above, he reminisces the sky with It's shades of blues turning dark.

A sigh escapes his lips as he continue forward at a leisure pace, nor fast or slow.

His eyes goes downwards showing eyes from sleepless nights. His back hunched, and the suit hooked on his arm slightly kisses the ground.

He murmured under his breath, you can faintly hear complaints after complaints aimed to possibly the culprit of his disheveled appearance.

Finally finishing his gibberish he turns his head casually, noticing that he's the only one causing the sounds of footsteps.

It registers, he paused at his tracks, but move again as if that stop was just a flick of imagination. His exterior is as usual, tired and impassive, but the same can't be said to the man’s eyes darting frantically on every directions.

The street’s quietness and the man’s state gave a delicate air, that a gentle breeze and a lamps flicker can even make the already anxious (though not obvious) man, show more outside.

Step..

Step.

Step..

His body twitches, pace goes fast to slow constantly. Finally as if the man decided something he closed his eyes, opens them again. Calmer pupils showed and the steps were more close to the original.

The aura became more lazy, less strained. Almost covering from his previous actions.

Almost.

A hooded entity enters, walking oppositely to where it came from. Only the build gave away the entity's gender, a male. He wore a long leathery coat, every outfit were only colored black. His face, or rather his eyes were covered by his hat, shaded just like the rest. It's a wonder how he hasn't even broken a sweat from the warm night.

The man froze, sensing the ominous presence. His breath hitched, eyes widen as he secretly took a glance of the hooded person. His head goes down unnaturally, not even resuming the walk, and reluctant to even take a slide step.

Step..

Step..

Step..

Cold sweat began to form, his breath circulates like heartbeats. Sweat dripping from the forehead to the man's jaws at a fast rate.

The man's eyes were covered by his hair, his hand clutches where the heart is, perhaps an attempt to calm his state.

The hooded man didn't batted an eyelid, walking casually as if a man breaking down was of a normal occurrence.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The man did everything, from trying to raise his head and foot, to coughing out a noise. anything to snap out of his state, his body ignored his commands.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The hooded person was nearing, closer and closer by inch to inch.

The man stopped his attempts, maybe giving up.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The hooded man was now there, side by side with the man and stopped.

He leaned close to the man's face, closing in to his ears.

He spoke at a low pitch, but it was as clear. He whispered;

“My condolences.“

The man's shoulders turned rigid and tensed.

The hooded man left, his steps were more quieter.

A moment passed, he let out a breath, barely acknowledging that he was holding one. The man's legs wiggled. He used the wall right next to him and propped himself with his side, struggling to keep himself steady.

He breathed, in and out continuously.

He spoke under his breath, none of the words were understandable. His eyes morphed slowly, the already open wide turned impossibly big. He turns--

A crack echoed on the street.

The man's body limped, falling like a ragdoll. Bones cracking were heard, loud and clear.

Red liquid came out, oozing smells like coppers.

No one noticed until the next day.

••••••••••

Question.

How did the man died? Why was no one there?

Hint: Superpowers exist.

Muffled

On a wall so paper thin it’s visible, I see

Clobber sounds I imagine comes when people walk, their footsteps heavy or soft depending on the pits of rain,

Trees fluttering, the sounds of crackles coming in faint rumbles,

Like the grass beneath but perhaps the feeling or warmth and softness is more apparent than whatever things I hear from it.

.

The sound-out groans, it moans in whistles,

Reminding me that things I described are things

I cannot hear behind where I am.

.

Yet I can imagine the echos the wind makes

When people walk, the thud and clobber the sounds of their shoes would make

The pitter-patter of rain, distinct

Sound of the sharp stream a car going past, motors screeching I fell more in

Curses rather than calm.

.

On a wall so paper-thin it’s visible, I hear and

Think, pictures aboard,

The muffled sounds of what a wind would speak

Dear you,

.

Recognizing

Despair;

Depression;

Disappointment;

Dispassionate;

Determination;

Anger;

Happiness;

Love.

.

—To whom I put down these words

When described,

Could you

Tell me

The weight of the history

Each—no, all

Nouns that had 

been 

made(and continuing) expresses?

.

For I don’t know.

Yet I’m

Adamant in sharing

These

Common, large words, as

.

Addictive in my high

Of labelling, the power

I feel when I simply call

Them out, as

Using for my advocation, when reading

When writing, when recognizing, finally,

What am I truly saying.

.

I ask you, I beg of you

What is the weight of my words?

To them. To you.

.

.

Sincerely yours,

A surrogate child of your language

A Sip

Licking wounds

from the already

faded but still

reddened cheeks.

It‘s the eyes,

the twitch

of the

brows to the

muscles of the

mouth—

.

I can see it talk.

I can hear it speak.

I can feel many thoughts.

but maybe it

wasn’t.

.

A past is backward.

Did you ever took

a step forward?