One Step CloserA tear is born, memories of what you put me through,
However, as the sky you make me blue,
I'm the shadow born from your light,
I'm the justification of your sight,
Standing, we lean on one another,
Having replaced, your father and my mother,
Under a blanket, together hiding, a warm cover,
Having replaced your sister and my brother,
There are times, because of you I cry,
I simply take a breath and again I try,
Confusion rises, you begin to shake,
Paths are seen, from one I must make,
A journey of one, a weakened patrol,
As your depression fights for control,
I open my arms, I prepare for the embrace,
I than hear silent anger, the lines on your face,
They dare to move, they await the impact,
I must run towards danger to keep you intact,
In this position I have been before,
Your standing behind a stable however transparent door,
In my hands I hold the key,
Her depression vs my maturity,
The key is placed in, the door I open,
A hug for my lover, she rejects more than the words spoken,
WriterMy pen is my sword,
My words my shield.
I am a warrior,
These are the weapons I wield.
The blood I draw is fictional,
And so are the people I slay.
Wars are waged because of me,
I let the bodies fall where they may.
It seems as though I'm invincible,
That I simply can't be slain.
That's because the world is mine,
I bring the sadness, I make the rain.
Everything is under my control,
The people, the places, the things.
Buildings are mine to crumble,
People are puppets and I pull the strings.
To some I am a matchmaker,
I've made many a couples' love live.
But I can easily become a reaper,
And remove the pleasures I give.
I've driven many a man to insanity,
By slowly stealing his mind.
I draw lines of hatred,
And create ties that bind.
When my sword strikes the last word,
The world comes to a halt.
When immortalized on its pages,
In my victory I can exalt.
But inspiration shall strike again,
So have no fear.
I am a warrior of words,
And the next adventure is always near.
Rant News.The news is obviously here to keep us scared and manipulated. Letting us 'know' it's dangerous without the government and police on our 'side' to fight 'crime'. Of course what's omitted is the intense corruption within, which completely defeats the purpose, not to mention it reinforces an insidious version of crime into the picture that's harder to fight. One that's a lie conveniently categorised under 'truth and news', that tries to screw you when your backs turned and rots you from within whilst doing so. They show us what they want us to see, not the millions dying all over the world because of their 'regulations' and society's enforcements; instead they show the petty, fucking pathetic local crimes, that'll keep us on the look out when we leave our house, leading us onto the congo line of consumerism. I could go on forever, but the point to this rant was to highlight some other news. ––There are billions of us surviving daily, there are people standing up for their righ
Here I am, just waiting.
My hopes of talking to you is slowly fading.
I missed and couldn't stop thinking of you all day...
The biggest disadvantage of living miles away.
I check my phone every time that I can,
Always having it in my pocket or in my hand.
I?m always online so that we can assure each other that we're fine.
You gave me your heart and in exchange, I gave you mine.
During the school days, we have a lot of work to do.
My day would suck like hell 'till I get to chat with you.
You give me the strength and the will to carry on.
Without you, the reason I'm living is gone.
During the weekend, we both go places
Learning something new and seeing lots of faces.
No matter where I go, I always imagine you here
Holding my hand and the kisses we'd have instead of my face stained with tears.
It was hard for us to get in touch
Since you weren't home very much.
I?m scared to go back to the way things were
Where Family, School and Fate made things worst.
I know that our love is very strong
On The Threshold of CreationDaughter of Hecate,
I was born upon the threshold
of one year and the next:
a tiny earthen creature,
awash in a sea of stars.
Too late did I remember
Capricorn is the goat with
the tail of a fish,
and perhaps my legs were never meant
to tread upon the earth.
I've heard tell
that Saturn is the harshest master,
and will never be satisfied
by words alone.
In the beginning I was sure-footed
as the goat who glitters in stars above me,
ideas sprung full-grown from my head,
as Athena born from Zeus
Too late do I recall
that prophecy foretold,
Zeus' own creation
would surpass even him.
I'm still trying to puzzle out
whether my own creation
will surpass me, and live on,
or destroy me altogether.
Yet still I weave my words,
and endeavor to make Athena proud.
She beckons me home,
tall and stern from woven banner:
tempts me with promises of "Eureka",
and still I pray, to any who would hear me
that my living words will whisper
"non omnis moriar."
Breaking news.The government makes status––
they ignore the real matters
they own the news
they confuse and abuse
making sure we're all scattered.
The law creates crime––
a social ladder we must climb
always the poor
stuck on the floor
as the privileged spend their time.
Society ignites fear––
blurring anything clear
as real life is nowhere near.
The system makes criminals––
while stealing the Earth's minerals
raising the price
feeding the vice
locking us away, for lacking principles.
The people are losing their souls––
giving up on their genuine goals
working nine to five
pretending they're alive
when they're completely under control.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
MeaninglessYour words are meaningless
Like leaves in the wind
They spin over my head
Always just out of reach
And though I try to grasp
The whispers of your mind
They slip through my fingers
Like water they have no shape
Just a river
The current so fast
It’s hard to hold on
To not be swept away
By the rush of empty promises
And your breath sighs
Bringing back memories
Of who we used to be
And what we used to do
The secrets that we shared
You speak no truth
Your words are meaningless
Blowing in the wind
Simple Girl Complicated ProblemsI know I am not the daughter you wanted
But at least you got it right the second time
My little sister found her place in your hearts
But I feel I have never really found mine
Why would you care to listen to your first born?
When you have a fresh blank canvas to create
All of those things that you wish I could have been
Had I not developed such negative traits
But those negative traits make me who I am
And shouldn't you love me without condition?
See my stubbornness as being strong minded
And when I talk, don’t interrupt just listen
I know I am not the daughter you wanted
I scowl but I still need your loving embrace
Though you barely acknowledge my existence
Apart from to tell me what I've done wrong today
But why would you ever want to talk to me
When an argument is never far away?
It’s the tone of your voice that hurts me the most
Rather than the words that you choose to say
To think I was once a baby in your arms
With such innocent eyes I could do no wrong
In many ways I
Anxious.I retire from the crowd, feeling kinda strange.
This anxiety is drowning me, somethings gotta change.
I gotta get in my mind's soul and start to rearrange––
your confidence for my sadness, care for an exchange?
This loneliness has company,
Gaining on me subtly,
I'm handing out custody,
I'm left with nil––utterly.
I think about tomorrow; wasting my today.
Already feel broke, before I even gotta pay.
I hear what I wanna hear, not what you have to say.
Losing bits of self; as I try and make my way.
This stressing is messing––
maybe it's a blessing;
dressing up depressing.
Trying to fool me, as it's assessing––
keeping me on my toes daily; guessing.
I need a change, now
I want to be the cause of "wow"
Just give me a go; allow,
I'll be the answer to your "how".
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
InsanitySo let it go.
I can't be there the way you want me to.
Can't care, the way you told me to.
I have never quite been
And maybe I belong there.
In that box beneath your bed.
In that song stuck in your head.
In that memory you reach for, but never find.
In that subtle way you lose your mind.
I am always there,
In the end.
You don't always care,
Maybe I should go back
To my padded cell.
Maybe I shouldn't have left
My safety-proofed hell.
Everything is always the same
In pale painted halls.
Every day you wake alone.
Every night you fall.
But I suppose that's better
Than feeling nothing at all.
Even if you're lonely.
You don't need a call
I can stand the fighting.
I can take the lightning.
But I can't be the stronger.
And can't hold on much longer.
And maybe I should just get up.
Or maybe I'd be better off
I can't smile the way you would.
Can't live the way I should.
I want to let go.
Truth is, I was hurting long before you even knew I was gone.
Just freaking ask.
I've waited forever for this moment to pass
You've finally come and knocked on my door
But when it was opened you were there no more.
And now you're wondering why life's so unfair
Why it always seems like nobody's there.
Well maybe the reason's right in your face
But you haven't been looking in the right place.
If you'd ask for help you'd have it by now
And I'll still be waiting here, anyhow.
Just freaking ask.
Heard AgainI floated like a leaf
and swung life away,
until the stars began to fall
and gravity went away.
Everything was upside-down
and colors faded to gray,
there came a day when I learned some tortures are self induced-
and it felt better to be astray.
I thought it was strange how we can suffer just by living
being the last one to be seen,
and the first one to go,
living each day as if I were about to pass away.
All it may have took
was that first second he took my wilting body to the beating heart of his and told me 'Everything will be okay'
There came a day when I learned I no longer needed to be afraid.
SuicideTomorrow, I decided, I will kill myself. I put down the book I'd been half-reading and wearily surveyed the room. My books littered every available surface, with clothes, cd's, and college papers lining the floor. The antiqued curtains hung loosely at my window and replayed for me all the times I'd snuck out under the night's cover. Something inside me ached for that freedom again, for the rush of an adventure. I walked through the chaos and picked up a stray blank paper from the middle of the floor. I scribbled a few lines in desperation.
"This isn't the world I foresaw.
This isn't where I wanted to be.
I'm sorry. This life isn't for me at all.
I'm sorry for not doing this sooner."
I crumpled the paper and tossed it aside, watching it settle into a pile of A+ schoolwork that never mattered anyway. Nothing mattered, save my impending escape. The phone buzzed mercilessly fro
Therapeutic LiteratureThe words in my soul,
Help inspiration take its toll,
Letting a story pour from my pen,
Filling up the blank page again.
I couldn't think of another way,
To strangle the stresses of the day,
Than to weave a long, treacherous tale.
Its therapy for me that will never fail.
I take my sadness and my rage
And splatter them out onto the page.
It calms me and clears my head,
Leaving only the fictional dead.
And it helps to get away
In a comrade's novel or poem or play.
Lose yourself in them for just awhile,
Follow their heroes through sadness and trial.
From the real world it helps my mind stray,
Out of this reality's dismal gray,
And into fictional worlds of colors bright,
Away from my usual darkness and into the light.