Where my silent voices speak

I’ll be here today. But I can’t promise tomorrow. Sensations of your touches fade, like droplets drying in the rising day. The song of your laughter trickles along the crevices of my mind, slipping through the cracks, pooling in the deepest wells of my heart. Too deep for me to reach. Together we had sewn moments between us into one memory, creating patterns of familiarity, cloaking my sadness with warmth, soothing the stings of old wounds. I pray it will always do the same for you. No matter how much I need you, I fear the day fate needs me to be somewhere else. There may come a time where the wind will whisk me away, away from you and all that I once knew. I just hope that you keep the memory of me beside you, so no matter where I go… I’ll know I never truly left you.

My heaviest thought, My deepest fear, is that the few years I spend away is worth all you have left. That leaving you for a moment will cost me a lifetime. That I go for a while with the price of forever hanging over our heads never meeting again. I see the sadness in your eyes when I say 'I have to go'. I notice the twitch of your mouth as you hide it behind your embrace. I hear the hope in your voice when you ask how long I'll be. You and I both try to ignore the hourglass sitting in the back, hoping we'll both make it till another 'next time' before it runs out. I'm begging to the Heavens that you'll keep holding on. Praying that the last time we sang together isn't our finale. That your curtain call is incomplete because I wasn't there when you wanted me to be. If you ever move on to that better place, just know that I'll be waiting too, since no plane or car can get me to you then. Until the day comes when I wish you were still here, the one thing I'll want till then is that we'll always have just a little bit longer.

I should've known I wouldn't hold. I couldn't stay like this forever. For years I tried to muffle my cries, trying to keep myself together. How did I think I wouldn't sink And be on the brink of my limits? I slip too fast into my past my body still, but mind relives it. No one can know the secrets stowed, Chained with heavy silence. Distracting every gaze, hiding all my pain by veiling it with nonsense. They think that I am always high like no part of me is aching. They're love is my drug, when they go I'm stuck remembering that I'm breaking. I take a step, proud of every breath, happy I can still survive. As long as family keeps on loving me, I have the will to stay alive.

She twinkled amongst many. There were others bigger than her. Brighter than her. Exploding with colors more splendid than hers. She drifted amongst a society of constellations. Nothing more than part a bigger picture, that no one could single out in the infinite expanse of beauty. But to him, she was the sun. She was the one that dimmed all of the other stars so immensely that she was the only one he saw in the day, and the one he looked forward to seeing again when the night came. She was the warmth he cherished as she would caress his cold cheek, and light he would look for as the storms thundered in. She was the force of nature that could bring him to his knees, Or compel him to wake and rise to his feet. Everything he knew revolved around her, as it should, for she was charmingly magnetic. But she would never know, for he revolved around someone else. She cried, because she is a sun. She blinded those who saw her for what she was. Burnt those who came too close. Poisoned those who were exposed to her for too long. Everything was a world away, out of reach. Distance was the price to pay. But she could smile for him, for he was the moon. The small pearl in the ocean of stars. He reflected her, showing her a different kind of light. Soothing, soft, and subtle. He let her know she wasn't the harmful inferno she made herself out to be. For together...they lit up a world of their own.

Silent, a hundred people are. Solemnly over a hundred graves they stand. Not a single word is uttered, heads bowed, respects already paid. Slowly, a hundred coffins descend. Rain compensating for unshed tears. Thunder replaces unheard cries, roaring in denial and rage. Deafening, a hundred souls are. Six feet deep, their bodies laid to rest. Silent crying they will remain. Forever grieving they will stay.

They try to put us in the ground Us Diamonds in the rough Telling us we're worthless That we'll never be enough. All Diamonds are imperfect Smoothed out by many trials Our determination prospers Because we go the extra mile. They think our works are useless Say that it will never amount To the masterpieces by the Masters Yet that's how they all started out. Just because we're Diamonds Doesn't mean our hearts are stone There's a fire deep inside us Burning boldly in our souls. The Heartless bury us with insults Put us down with jeers and lies Trying to smother out the Fire That keeps our passion running high. But don't they know we're fighters? We've been through this before They've done it far too many times We won't take it anymore. We Diamonds will not crumble To the crushing words of Doubt Because the words concealed within us Are the only words that count. So don't worry, Hidden Diamonds Just never lose your shine For one day we'll be discovered And take our places in the sky.

Please do come closer, dearie. Why are you so shy? I mean no harm, dear truly. Ignore the twinkle in my eye. I hear that you're unhappy, got problems all the way up to your ears. Perhaps I may be of service, should you want them to disappear. Tell me what you wish for. I'm not a genie, do know that. Nor am I a mere magician, that pulls bunnies out of hats. I am something far more greater, long buried secrets do I know. I can grant your deepest yearnings, if that is the path you wish to go. I am something of a merchant, in order to give I surely take. For what I do is nothing simple, hence there is a cost that all must pay. Don't fret, I don't want money! In fact you may have a couple of my chests. All I ask for is a humble promise, that you will honor my requests. But be warned, my dearie. What you want doesn't always mean, it won't change things for the better for it may not be what you need. T'is a good deal I offer, dearie. I extend my hand for you to shake. Take it, what have you to lose? Come on, what do you say?

Listen closely and you will hear, The thoughts that I have never said, The hushed whispers with every heartbeat. The shadows cackling in my head. All my sinews are laced with secrets, binding my body to my soul. Tell me, is it truly worth it, leaving so much truth untold? I'm not going to point fingers, because they say I'm the one to blame. But I'm sure I'd hate myself a little less if I found another way to bleed my shame. And so I beg you, listen. Whether you care or not for me. I just need someone to hear my voice, So that I may set my spirit free.

I'm stuck with a sickness called Depression. It's become really severe. It's become dangerously contagious. It spreads by catching fear. Some people cannot fight it. So they hurt themselves inside and out. It's one of the symptoms that shows it's getting to winning, forgetting what Life is all about. It starts with Doubt beginning to clot your Confidence, blocking Love from flowing round. Hate spreads in your lungs till it's all you breathe, exhaling painful words out of your mouth. You start to think your worthless. Think your existence is a waste. But I've managed to stand steady. There was enough love around me to fight my pain. Since no one knew of my secret illness, I sought my own release. A way that did not consist of scars and teardrops, such things would haunt me in my sleep. I needed a way to cleanse my spirit, to stop dragging myself down. I wanted to be like all those hopeful dreamers, who I watched soar above me as I drowned. Slowly, I fought the demons inside me. A mighty battle gone unseen. I was wounded and exhausted. But I managed to find some peace. Now I'm finally better. I'm on a special medication. I think everyone should have it. It's called Imagination.

I hear you got hurt. Say, what happened again? Break up, death of a beloved, failure? You know what, same difference. Now you're telling me you're waiting for everything to go back the way it was. Want it to. Expecting it really. Want me to show you how that reality works? Take this bowl. Good. Have a look at it. Feel it. Smooth, pristine, untouched. A simple representation of sound perfection. Now pretend that is you, or rather what everyone calls 'the heart'. See, I even got you one that's shaped like a heart so you can even pretend to fill 'emotion' into it. I mean, look at that beauty. Whole. Devoid of pain or desecration. Pretty isn't it? I know. Now break it. What's that? You don't want to break your heart? You always want it to stay this pretty? TOO BAD! LIFE HAPPENS! NOW DROP IT!!!! Fiiiinally. Hurt didn't it? Yeah, it usually does.... Ugh, would you look at the mess. Pieces scattered everywhere. It's like a jigsaw threw up in here. Careful— what are you doing, don't step on it!!! Jeez, walk all over it why don't ya? As if dropping it with no remorse wasn't bad enough, yeesh. Now where were we? Right— apologize to it. Yeah, you heard me. From the bottom of your soul, with all the sincerity and regret swelling in your chest, no matter how many time you have to do it in order to fix it, tell that sad ceramic excuse for a heart you're sorry. Did it? So what happened?...... Nothing? So it didn't go back to the way it was no matter what you or anyone else said? Now do you understand? No matter what you do the damage has been done. That heart is going to be broken. And no amount of words or regret is going to change that, no siree. Okay, sure, cry over it a little. Just let it out. Although while you're at it, do me a favor and pick up the pieces? It's okay if you don't get it all. Hearts are never really whole after they've been shattered anyway. But it doesn't have to stay that way. See what we have here. Come on, wipe your eyes and tell me what it is. Lacquer. Pick a color, silver or gold, any is good. Think of the lacquer as Time or Love, maybe even Will. We're going to use this to put it back together. It's a bit of a slow process so bear with me. That's right, gently, at your own pace, put it along the cracks of the heart until you can call it a heart again. Here, I got these other pieces to fill in the parts where there are holes. They're called friends and family. There are different shapes and sizes so I'll leave it to you to choose the right fit. All done? Great! Take a step back, and admire your work. Come on, right here next to me, I got a good angle. Haha, whaddaya know? It's beautiful. Just look how it lines everything, all glittery and shiny, not just that dull gleam like before. And take a gander at what the new pieces do to it. Makes it so much more interesting.Gives it style, uniqueness—VARIETY! One in a million! I don't know about you, but I think it looks better now compared to what it was before. Also more durable. I'm pretty sure it can stand the next smashing better. Sometimes you just have to understand that sooner or later, something is going to come along and break that plain, fragile heart. But that 'lacquer' is going to make it twice the art of heart than it could ever be alone. Because sometimes you just gotta understand... Some things are beautiful for having been broken.

The Monsters don't hide under my bed. They never did. They saunter with pride under the sun and lurk in the dark. They don't have nor need fangs to bite into flesh, for their words sink into my skin until my eyes bleed tears. Their condescending laughter scathes my confidence as they tell me, that I'll never be good enough, that I'm not pretty, I'm stupid, that I'll never be somebody. Monsters don't have rough matted fur, or wear rags. With well combed hair and a wardrobe full of disguises, they wear everything from designer shoes and dresses, to combat boots to letterman jackets. All the while donning shiny plastic smiles, bubbly laughs, caked layers of makeup and a shield of charming lies, to cloak their rotten personality. Monsters still go after children. They hunt them in the halls, waiting for their chance. Looking for the right victim to step on, just to have a laugh. Climbing higher on their mountain of ego, piled with the bodies of broken spirits that weep rivers that run to the sea. They haunt their prey throughout time in dream and memory, though their presence is long gone. The Monsters are all foolish. Ignorant to their crimes. For none truly know the wrath their actions bring. They are unaware of the dark-born devils their taunts spawn from bloody, slitted innocence. True, I fear the Monsters, but they too shall learn to fear. As they beckon the Monster that I fear the most. My Monster from within.

Follow the thought as it hops away, into the deep dark hole. Let curiosity lend a spring to your step, to chase after the unknown. Endlessly, endlessly let yourself fall, into the vivid black. Either choose to change or stay mundane, for there is no turning back. Run, run, into the fields, where ideas bud in the plain. They sprout, and grow and wither. Better pluck a few good ones to save. Wander until you know where to go, for Anywhere will never do. Morph into the form that you wish to be. Do not hide in your cocoon. Be deaf towards scarring words of scorn. Allow no one to take your head. The day the dreams you have become not your own, shall be the day your Self is dead. Remember that thought you followed, away from the world of bitter hate, and stumbled towards the world where people learn to love themselves before it was too late. Fall into the madness. Question not where it leads. Follow no path set before you, or you'll never be set free. Forge your way of Madness. Do not be afraid, my dear. Have no fear, no one will judge you, for we are all mad here.

at least your imagination's free.