Opinion Of A Belief

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?

Describing Sweet Nothings

True to it

She was a form.

Subtle, gentle, and merely

A smooth, teasing

Motion.

.

She was beautiful,

For I see her

Eyes smilling in crescents

Or her nails were more deeper than

Her skin.

.

Juxtaposition to her tone

Her words clothed

In Red, pink, purple—a rainbow,

Colouring my thoughts

With its slow poison.

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

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

Believe in Me

I told them:

.

I had believed I was a messenger of

Heaven;

I still believed I see

Devils on my mirror;

I can believed that my

Beliefs hold me, and I speak beyond my blood

And colour—an organ, carrying my identity with it, pumping my life and no

More than it that.

.

I was made of flesh, born, and see the basin carrying water

To be baptist as newborn under the cross,

Under the view of my

Religion. I assumed, it was

Like many others I witnessed as young kin

Of church.

.

And older, a day, a month, a year, in another country later:

Icy-veins I felt from the fingers to my arms, to my toes, frozing in untangilabe scare, alone

In my dark, dark room.

I was 12, weeping and thought:

I wished my hesrt to resist, let it be stone

So I would not cry, to simmer my anger out

Why not!?

.

It rejects

I reject it:

And heart pounded, my tears

Crinkling from my eyes, hanging off my eyelids

Down, down, to the floor

To my

homely

floor.

My throat chokes

I cannot keep it still.

.

My mind reeled to a story of a memory

I hoped to think I truly do hold dear: My silly mistakes, my promises,

My lies,

My childhood: I was living

Off the floor, a computer and I was

Everywhere, nowhere, but grounded

In my little corner of the

Room.

.

Don’t let me forget you, child.

.

Forget to pray, to beg, to be arrogant,

Be nothing but the silence you permeates

Around you.

.

Don’t forget this lesson, child

You born under the cross,

Once aquianted with the church every Sunday

At mass

And now you see yourself not

A follower

But a lover of arts

And a hyprocite of your religion,

Learning alongside them

And you see it, oh yes,

So close and you are there;

So far and you are the only one here.

.

Be still my beating heart.

.

It asks, “What are you, if nothing

But a walking dead?”

.

I believed to be an animal, a person,

Speaking, recognizing, engaging,

Walking on two feet.

.

It asks again, “Are you true?”

.

Again, I told them:

.

I believed because the rest of me

Can cry,

Can twinkle my toes,

Can laugh,

Can hate,

And love.

I can move and heart,

My dear heart, the holder of my being: “You are alive.

And I am alive.”

.

I can think, therefore I am here. I am living as you,

and

you as me.

Fangs

The heat sizzles as the sun goes on the afternoon. Clouds absent, showing clear blues.

At the school’s roof stood a person no more older than 15, with white stained shirt accompanying blue shorts covering his knees. Along with an unhealthy shade of skin, his glassy grey eyes gaze towards the students working with their activities in a daze.

Clutching the green fence tight. Eyes covered. He bit his lip.

Do IT.

He clutched his head.

TheY deSeRvE IT.

He screeched. Not a sound a came out.

The voices kept booming in his mind, distracting him from the slam of the door.

He didn’t notice footsteps were approaching.

He didn’t notice they were holding a knife.

He didn’t notice the crazed glimmer directed at him.

He only notice a chuckle before his sight turned crimson red.

“Die.”

••••••••••

Knife clattered on the stone floor.

He gulped. The blood tasted sweet. It fits his taste.

He look at his once white shirt now bloodstained. Clicking his tongue, he muttered under his breath;

“How inconvenient.”

••••••••••

Question.

Is he human?

Domeville

She thought magic was a phony.

That is until she’s at the mercy of humanoid creatures with stitched body parts that belongs to creatures-not-human, crowding around her with curious gazes. Her skin prickled from the contact. She took a shallow breath as more gathered around her.

Black spots began to cover her sight. She felt a drop in her stomach.

Space I need space! She breathed again, more venomously— “Stop..” no one heard her though. Her throat tighten, “Stop! Please!” That gave some of them a reaction. One of them screeched. They flinched.

Everyone, including her, followed the sound. A black robe with a glowing pumpkin as a head, soundlessly looking at her as he spoke, “—“

She didn’t understand but neither did she care. She looked at it with pleading eyes. It nodded and continued speaking at the creatures. With unusual obedience they took a step back.

She took a mouthful of air, her throat dry. Her tense shoulders relaxed. Looking at the robe man she mouthed a reply before her eyes fluttered shut, “Thank you.”

She only heard faint murmures after that.

“It will take you when Domeville was the greatest clowns of halloween.”

She didn’t think her aunt was telling the truth.

Her eyes wandered at the time. It’s midnight. Standing at the clock she got as a present she waited.

Nothing happened.

With a low heart she went to bed, not noticing the rapidly ticking clock.

She looks at her surroundings, her eyes sharp. Wooden walls, old chimney, closed curtains, and sturdy mattress. The door only handful of feet apart.

Where am I?

A low tone interrupted her thoughts. “Did you forget?” She swirved her head to the sound, founding the robed man. “..No.” I didn’t hear him. He must’ve seen something from her face as he chuckles, “I have no feet.”

How did he—she looked at the ground where the robed man’s feet was supposed to be. Her heart faltered. There’s none.

This man’s dangerous.

“See?” He said.

“...”

“Not much of talker are you?”

She didn’t respond. The robed man sighed, gliding to the door, “Come here—It’s not anything bad,” He added quickly as she took a stance. “I just wanna show you something. You might like it.”

A paused before she followed, her body still cautious. We’ll see.

The door opens, momentarily mesmerizing her.

“Wha—“

Orange colored lights all over the village streets, the night empathizing it more, with simple pastries cluttering the tables, and animated humanoid creatures with excited looks. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted ghouls and spirits joining the fun.

Beside her, the pumpkin man turned to her as his eyes glowed, “Welcome Katy, to DomeVille Halloween!”

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

Villia Pangarap

Stores a-plenty, Blanket roofs

Sun-dried thugs, Long street—

To slide under a rainfall

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?