lapeccatorum-blog

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I wish that everything about us would be okay. I wish everything would be okay. Tell me it’s okay.

http://iglovequotes.net/

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Can we create something beautiful and then destroy it?

Yes, you created me. Yes, you freed me. Yes, you created me. Beautifully fixed. Beautifully complete once again. I’ve became a star in your constellation. You’ve become my smile in my sadness. You became the force on my broken wold. An atmosphere in an airless world.

MY LIFE IN MY LIFELESS WORLD.

But can we still say a solar system is complete without the star that gives heat to every planet revolving around it? What if that star became a black hole.

What if that star is attracted to another star and it becomes a binary star?

It is not a solar system anymore. It’ll just be planets. Cold, dark, lifeless planets-- no, chunks of rocks. That is what is left with me.

I was fine with her. I was complete with her. I WAS. Before.

Now that I am alone: Facing the life I cannot imagine before. I don’t know how to live again. Now that i’m without her. Now that she’s with him. Hoping for you to be happy. I forgot 

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Fade

It’s five in the morning, or was it afternoon? I can’t tell the difference between the times Probably The time when you are still mine And the time when I’m just dreaming for the stars The time when I was still holding your hands And the time when I was just reaching for the moon The time when your eyes was the universe And the time when you and I are light years away. I know I’ve been there Probably I know I’ve been there I know I was there I know I probably knew I remember one time when you asked me, “What was the most important thing in the world?” I was bedazzled by the question and said “What?” “Memories” Memories, probably memories with you Yes, Memories with you are the most important things in my world Memories in which not even a billion stars could possibly buy Memories in which a black hole will never kill Memories in which an event horizon will never gave back Memories of you That is, probably, the most important thing in my world But what’s important is you Probably you You are more important than the memories with you Your presence is the light of the darkness inside me Your touch is the fire in my ice cold heart Your kiss is the life in my worthless Earth You are the life Probably I’m so sorry if I have been talking to everyone with probably Because you know what? I can’t remember a single thing Yes! The most important thing to me is lost! You And your, no, our memories I’ve lost the most precious star in the abyss of darkness And now I’ve lost sight of the diamonds How can I say that these are the most precious stars in my life If they are disintegrated slowly in the nothingness They fade My memories. They fade Like stars who die in miserable supernovas Sprinkling every single memory into the dark space And left me with nothing But tears. Memories are lost, but tears came out Sprouting like a neutron star Killing me with the gravity pushing me so down Fading faster than the speed of the light Trying to go back in time But can’t I want to create a new universe But the more I recreate, the more I remember And as the tears stop from falling in the zero gravity The stars begin to mesmerize me And now I remember I don’t want to fade away like my memories I don’t want to start again with a nebula I don’t want to start again with a tiny space dust I want to start as a red giant I want to start as a binary star I want to start again. With You My Memories with you has already faded So, Love, Come Back in your original constellation Let’s create an image the whole world would try to kneel their knees on Let’s create another time And now, we are memory no more I want moments with you So Come home And it’s six in the morning Or was it in the afternoon?

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                                                      Flowers

                                                  are beautiful

                                       even if they are crowned

                                 with thorns of pain and suffering.

                          However, humans want to always feel and

                           see the beauty of the thorned goddess.

                             So they created an image and hung

                               it on the wall for everyone to see

                                  So the goddess is not unique

                                       anymore; but a product

                                           of manifestations

                                                of the real

                                                   beauty.

                                                   However

                                           she is already lost

                                    So he stared at her in the

                                  Distance, and tried his best

                                       to get back to his feet

(But how long would it take to realize that someone lost is someone who’d never gonna come back?)

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A journal entry this night where the winds are cold.

I did not know how I managed to grow into a seventeen year old body without knowing how the blood flows into my wrists. I just know that it flows and I can see the dark blue veins which connects my hands to my heart and that my arms' veins are slightly visible that I am always tempted to look for own answers and just grab one of such in my body but my brain is screaming lots of lost voices so I always get lost. Today, I was a symphony of silent emotions in the midst of a concerto. It was raining with words that I can comprehend but simply dont understand. I lack that heart which I know is inside my chest but everytime she speaks, the blood inside becomes ice and it starts pumping 'till it's all gone and I am left to eat the food I get but breathe heavily due to my lungs that are given freedom and thus ran away from my ribcage. My eyes are hazy and it's a miracle that I can see shit but those bags of water inside my eyes aren't allowed to escape so they are swallowed by my brain. My brain is a fucking fortress of unchained thoughts of murder and chained feelings, a body which the mind do not respect and a mind which the body do not salute on. I don't know what the perfect child was defined. But it was clearly my antonym. I don't get this. But this is a rare chance for me to spill out my feelings into words, my tears into phrases, my cuts into sentences, my death into paragraphs. I've never never longed for this freedom, and thus I never ever loved the air she breathes. This is an escape, Mom. Please. Im not perfect. Im not a robot. Im not the way I was suppose to be. I love you, but this is way too much for me. I haven't seen myself smiling for the last three days but I've seen myself cry in the last three minutes. I've lost count of the words, of the sense, of my life.

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To the writer who wrote my poetry and made my December colder (This is not a poem, this is the story of us)

I. If I could, I would sacrifice my heart to the sky. I would give these hands and feet to the ground and I would slowly bleed to death as I watch the ground break itself to fly.

II. I am not a metaphor. These words are not a simile as beautiful as the moon or like the ocean waving goodbye to the shore. I am a compass with a broken needle. I am lost.

III. When I met you, I said to myself, "God, if this is really it, tie me up to a nightmate and let me be auctioned to my worst mistake. Bid me to a broken promise and I will bleed every single sin I had just to be rightful to hold your hand."

IV. I never knew Love is a company and I thought I was the best employee for years.

V. You are not a personification of Love. You are not Venus, nor Cupid, nor Athena, nor the dandelions dancing gracefully on a moonlit garden. You are not a drummer skipping a beat to the heartbox whenever you are a rose petal being flown by the wind. You are not a personification of Love.

VI. Love is not a poem breaking words into beautiful disaster. Love is not a poem about you and I meeting each other for the last first time and rhymes were heard from the chirping of the crispy leaves. No, love is not a poetry of feelings. Love is a story of how the butterflies in my ribcage slowly turn their prison into paradise I always wanted to live into

VII. Only, the story isn't about You and I. A keyboard, if only we are. We are but one.

VIII. I've spoken to the stars, I prayed to the sun, I bow down to the moon. I snatched the planets off their orbits, put them to a bracelet and let them be washed by the tides because tides will bring me back to you but instead I learned how to swim.

IX. Sometimes, words cannot fathom what feelings cannot tell.

X. I have this musical sheet full of black and white notes as a symphony of how we met. I have a poem about us, and it had a beautiful ending. I have a ring for you to bring forever back to life. But I never had a story about us.

XI. What I'm trying to say is that I Love You,

XI. But I hate you so,

XI. I'm trying to be normal, but the pain has made me irrational.

XI. I've lost count on how many times I have been lost in words (in a bad way) every time you are around.

XI. I have lost count of the reason to love again (or did I even started counting?)

XI. I have lost count of

XI. I only have one reason as to why I'm afraid on losing everyone

XII. I have this jar of butterflies collected inside the prison when you said Hi and smiled for the first time. Most of them are still flying around the dandelions. I know it makes no sense but my heart won't stay with you.

(XIII. This is just a poem, this is not the story of us)

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-random words thrown to a picture (The key chain)

 I. 1 day(s) before the end 

     i. She spreads her arms across the horizon and she radiated the seven seas with her simple smile and I am a lucky witness of the sun finally rising to the west. Her hair made waves across the current of the atmosphere and I have never been so contented in my life 

     ii. I 

     iii. She kissed me, and suddenly all the magic in the world was held captive in the four corners of our room. Fireworks exploding. Beds floating. Astronauts watching. We are Adam and Eve and a kiss is a seal of the Garden. We never breathed so heavily before 

    iv. Love 

    v. She gave me the key chain and made me believe of it as a sign of forever. She enchanted me with her words while I took them wholeheartedly. I was never so contented with my life. Somebody texted her. She said it was her dad. But I spent the night thinking if ‘Babe’ is a father-daughter endearment

II. 0 Days before the end 

     i. Who 

     ii. I don’t understand any spells you’ve said. All I understood is that you wanted space. But, darling, how could you look space if you are my universe, my atom, my start and finish. I never wanted to see the end. I, never wanted to, see the end. 

     iii. Loved 

     iv. Her hands are not as warm as before. Her eyes were not as warm as before. All I could see is the rain washing my tears through the gutter. I was left without my explanation. The spells you’ve enchanted became curses that drained me,. I’ve never felt so hard to go back to my house. 

     v. You? 

     vi. My mathematics teacher once said that there is an infinitely many numbers between 0 and 1, between 1 and 2. I wish I had never bumped into this fact because, fuck it, I miss the last 24 hours with her and I hate the first her without her 

     vii. Fuck it, I do. 

            b. I just remembered, along the way from the moon kiss the east and the sun kiss the west, that you whispered ‘I love you’ on this key chain. And I never expected those beautiful words to suddenly make clouds of darkness around my room. My pillows are rain-soaked and I never knew I can cry this hard. The ‘I love you’s just became a curse that breaks every piece of me apart. 

III. 1 day(?) after the end 

     i. Did the sun rose from the east already? Did the rain outside stopped? Did the movie end? It’s not yet finished? Stop the movie and wake me up. Or show the list of actors and actresses and slap me hard and let me know that this is just a nightmare and I don’t deserve here but wait; I am awake. 

     ii. I 

     iii. Wait, the sun hasn’t risen up yet. It is the first minute of the first day. I’ve been broken all day. I would give you a gift of an ocean made entirely of my tears. I would give you the Mount Everest made of letters (William Shakespeare would be put to shame). Just tell me one word and I’ll be fine: Stay. 

     iv. … 

     v. The bridge had been burned into ashes. Ashes flew high in the sky. The sky is so beautiful tonight. Tonight, I plan to create yet another masterpiece: a waterfalls. Water falls from the sky again. Again, I… 

    vi. You. 

IV. 2 Day (?) after the end 

     i. ..?

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-random words thrown to a picture (Rose) i. Nothing is here. Not with this picture. Not with the words that I am using. Not in the author's tears while writing this. Not in the atmosphere given by the words that the author's tears gave. Not in the sadness which causes the author to cry once again. Not nothing. Not everything. Nothing is here. ii. She was standing just right there. The abyss of stars circle around her as she fearlessly stepped on the edge of the cliff– spreading her wings but never dared to fly. She looked up at the skies and a billion lights dressed the lonely moon above her. Those lights then scattered around into the vast space of the universe I will never know. She smiled. I wish you could see this, Aurora. iii. I am laying here— dead. The water from the falls earlier splashed right into my eyes and I lost sight of the future and I don't know where to start again; or why would I? iiii. She looked at me as if I am an open book but the truth is she is the open library with broken books; so everytime I would read her I would jump to the next hundred pages or another hundred books. v. She kissed me. Lay me down into our own bed of roses and the thorns in my clothes were suddenly removed. We are Adam and Eve in the paradise we call bed and we have never been so close to heaven before. We climbed the highest climax we could ever climb. Afterwards, we slept; for our energy needs to be replenished the next day. But before you slept, I was sure you saw me ate an apple. vi. She was nothing; compared to anyone she was nothing. I've never been so free once again. But she is not. She was chained. And I am smiling. vii. We bid farewell. Before we bid farewell, here is the list of things we did: a. Fuck; b. Fuck— c. Fuck... viii. I don't know how it happened, but her chains are broken and her wrists are bloody. She punched me so hard I thought the universe stopped. She was crying so hard I thought her eyes will spill blood. She was so mad at me she decided to break her own heart. ix. I thought of it again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again. x. She left me. I don't know where she is, but when a rose flies against the current all you have to do is find the next rose to catch. So I called her for the nth time. And she reponded. xi. I do not know what is happening; All I know is that we are, again, in our own little paradise and nothing will stop us from doing such things until she was dead but she will never because... xii. I told you, nothing is here.

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-random words thrown to a picture  (the rain)   i. It has been raining, so the ground would be wet again.I would like to thank the roof of this small house for giving me shelter. ii. It grew stronger. Winds were blowing from a direction no one knew. It was rather a perfect day; imperfect life. (As if there is such word as imperfect.) She was standing right in front of me. iii. The grasses were already wet. What a cliché. iiii. It was a sunny day; but the grasses are wet. Neither of us knew why, but I know one reason: her. v. I know I am in a civilization but no single person dared to travel as the rain grew stronger. Mother Nature must've been so mad. vi. Her hands were a desert because of its softness and I know it doesn't make sense but I am senseless and I dive in your desert everytime I touch your hand. (And probably died due to the sand marching inside my throat but an oasis was always down there) vii. Until it was not there. viii. Earth created mud using tears and her skin. I wonder what would happen if I did the same? ix. She wasn't around the day I saw the light speeding in front of me, but I know this blood isn't mine. x. I know for sure that this isn't my blood, that this isn't my life. But I can hear someone screaming for my name. xi. Was it you, after all..? xii. The rain stopped, probably. xiii. One, two, three, four, five, six. xiiii. She wasn't here, after all. xv. The rain continued, I want to include. xvi. So I started to feel rain. xvii. As if life never abondoned me. xviii. Goodbye.

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The Forbidden Symbol;

The sun rises from the east; as if it was a king radiating its powerful army across his islands and seas. But I am already ready long before He was born. The light that he emits is a signal for me that I must keep on going; that because of traffic, I would be late if I wouldn't move now. Everyone is dressed according to temperature, but I was the one who defined constant: Black hood with black shirt that no one would notice except if I remove my hood, pants and black shoes with black socks. I don't care, anyways.

A thousand eyes had already judged me within the thirty minute ride on the train. My playlist tells me I'm listening to "No Way Out" as I head out of the station. From a far, I could already see those words again. I think they have sensed me: with those kinds of smile, I try to hide in the light. But they picked on me first. "Hey! You..!" mentioning my gender preference as they push me back and forth. Their laughs resonated through my hollow skull all throughout the class and the class hasn't even started yet. I know if I couldn't get a hold of my emotional stability, I might break down. Fortunately, I didn't. Unfortunately, I did not. After class, without any adieu, I sprinted my way outside. I can hear them; the laughs of those who do not accept me for who I am: Those who told me about what I should be and not what I really am. More and more eyes are adjusting to the blue aura of mine as I sob less and less. In the end, my mom would just let me in my room without further questions about the life of her child (or if her child is still alive). My tears just run down as I took the sharp blade and wrote the other forbidden symbol on my wrist: a blank line. Red ink would certainly be tattooed on the forbidden symbol, blue ink would be on the heart, and black for my eyes which would certainly start to get hazy with the lights. In the eyes of the world, another girl has had hurt herself more than her heart could handle. In mine, this is a white flag waving. Even the sun and its mightiest army have to surrender to the moon and its darkness at the west.

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Another boy who cries too much

Another prison he crawled in, Another bed he fell upon. Another pillow his tears would spill on. Another...

Someone walked through his veins, Someone ran across his brain, Someone knocked onto his heart. Someone...

Left was the footsteps she took, Left was the path she seldom looked; Left was the only word she did. Left...

And then there were none, And then she was gone. And then... And...

He is back wallowing. He came back to tearing. He lost view of his life. He was...

Alone; Alone: Alone. Alone...

Once he believed; everyone leaves. Once he live; everybody lived. Once he tried, everyone gets tired. Once...

Again; another person crawled in Again; another bed he fell upon Again; another fear fell on his eyes. Again...

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Ira. (Part I of VIII of “Sins.”)

He was unable to compose himself.

He heard the sound approaching the alcove. The door flew open... There it was, Looming up over his head. It’s face dark; its blazing eyes; its cavernous mouth. A terrible sound reverberated the room. Terror --- The beast now drew his dagger, It had struck a stone mortar. Its claws succeeded tearing him... His cover fell free. Great holes broke their home... Autumn went and out the moon; He stayed as he, The huge monster upon him. Terror. Pain. It’s the monster again! Fear was piled into himself. The monster is coming again! It took a whole man. He lost consciousness. He died.

The monster was never seen again.

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Brand Name X

The skies were branded blue when happy; grey when sad 

The sun was deemed yellow when it burns; orange when it's perfect 

The moon was a lonely white with glittering glitters around him 

The world is full of colors. 

The world is, indeed, full of colors. 

If then so why are we stuck in between? 

Those eyes of judging the color of the world 

And the colors of the outside.

 Can you see me? 

Can you look directly in my eyes and tell me 

Do we even deserve this? 

The rain is colorless 

But so do my tears 

And I am hiding in the dark 

But my voice is screaming outside my skin 

If the sun burns when yellow, 

my heart is burning blue whenever somebody laughs 

The moon is beautiful white. 

Like every white was deemed beautiful 

And we are only allowed to be around him 

And let the world look at his gracefulness 

While us, 

the sky of black, 

never got the attention of your eyes 

THE WORLD IS FULL OF COLORS 

But why does your eyes only hold black and white? 

We Never Demanded This To Happen. 

Like when you're full of melanin, you're someone bad 

Someone of a criminal 

And when you lack, you're an angel 

No! 

We will never accept this.

 We are a T.V.commercial of some sort of a detergent 

All of my brothers were in one side named X 

While the 'better ones' are on the other 

Divided Not United 

Since when did this division started? 

This line where you are better than me 

Just because I was branded X 

This is never what I wanted 

Did you even ask for us? 

Did you even know one of us? 

I Am Not Black 

You Are Not White 

We Are Humans 

And we will never be a  

Brand Named X 

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A Sacrificial Lamb

Good night Let us start with the end Where the sun rise on the west And the stars kiss the skyline – I was never a culprit I am just a witness; An innocent defendant Who tried to stop the murder.         He will never understand. She climbed up the stairs so high;         It lets her kiss the clouds. He tried to pull her down;        But is afraid of catching. She looked at the skies and touched Him        Or he touched her..? I cried out her name        Exclaiming a heart that never beats -- Wasn’t this the same as when The man turned into stars: He climbed the highest fear Together with his heart The only problem with her is She climbed up the stairs, Knowing that her heart is done below; And that she brought his broken. She raised her hand, Touches the sky, And tried to free him. While I; Am just the witness The seas where dyed black, And red; And the skies were crying -- As she goes down the sky She looks at me, As if I was him But then again I am just the witness -- Let us end the beginning. Hi.