Alone, in the Dark

Who are you in the dark?
Who are you when the lights turn out?
What do the shadows say about you?

We're all the same
Sultans and saints
Paupers and poor
We're all the same when the sun goes down

Who are you when you're alone?
Who are you when no one else is around?
What do the shadows say about you?

Your true self is revealed
When no other human is in sight
Everything you say, be it yours alone
Do you do things you cannot atone?

Strip Away the 21st Century

Often, when I look in a mirror, I see me
My own face reflected
Just the same as it is
No makeup, no fakes
All real

Then enters a woman, a Western Culture's pride
Long, flowing golden hair, luminous blue eyes
Skinny as a rail,  save her chest.
But when she beholds the mirror, her true self is reflected

A mirror shows all
Imperfections large and small
Mirrors don't lie, but your eyes do
It's the reflection that shows the true you

Her hair was reflected as a murky brown
Her eyes the same, dull color
A skinny, petite frame
From head to toe

So maybe this mirror was a little special
Reflecting only what should be there
You can run
You can hide
But you'll never escape
What's inside

Enter your run of the mill, muscular man
Tantalizing tan, bulging muscles
But that mirror, that shiny piece of glass
Shows what's behind
His body of brass

Weak, pale, and scrawny
Only made attractive by
Western conveniences
Spray tans and steroids
What has become of this world?

When you look in the mirror, what do you see?
Does the 21st Century look back at you?
Or do you see yourself, pure and free?

Live Again, Part 1

There was something in the air that night that that sent me out the door and into the darkness of the forest. I don't think I'll ever know what it was, but that was the night I finally believed in something.

I pulled on black skinny jeans that clung to my legs like wet rubber. I followed them with black socks and black basketball shoes with a reflective white  Nike swoosh on the side. A fitted black tee and a gray and black jacket completed my ensemble. I felt so alive, buzzing like an angel with broken wings.

I would say my heart ached, but it did not. Ever since I had been shattered, my heart had been hairline fractured with heavy black spider webs, marring its pulsing red beats until I couldn't feel anymore. I was stuck in a cold fortress of frostbitten ice. No warmth or fire, no companion, no noise. Cold, stoic existence. Outside the walls, each arctic brick built lie after lie and bound together with tears of blood, was a hurricane. This hurricane razed everything outside the walls with mental problems and issues. Silence was only heard on the stony island. The island was wrought in the pain of depression, the oppression of loneliness. No, happiness did not belong on the island. It belonged nowhere in my life.

I eased the door open. If my family caught me sneaking out, God knows what would happen to me. But something drove me into the forest that night. I only wish I knew exactly what did.

Ever since the world had gone to Hell and back, things had been different. Much different. It started with the Stock Market Crash of 2016. The global economy just...busted, I guess. I didn't really understand the crash. I was only 14, almost 15.

The first thing that happened was that gas prices skyrocketed. People on Wall Street panicked when not a single share of stock could be sold at all. What little sold did so for .001% of their original value. Basically, if you had bought a share for $100, you could only sell it for one penny. From what I understood, it was BAD. 

When people couldn’t afford gas, the United States went out of the frying pan, into the fire, and straight to the pits of Hell. My father was smart enough to borrow one of my uncle's horses in time for his truck to run out of gas. At least we could somewhat get places.

As food got more and more expensive, the community collapsed into hysterics. People frantically tried to sell their houses, but no one would buy. No one could. The banks were out of money. The government stepped in and gave the banks what they owed to the people, but the banks had no money to loan. People that could afford to buy houses cash used the money for other things, like food, medicine, and essential items.

The worst part, in my opinion, about the Crash was the riots. They were everywhere. The police simply weren't able to stop the floods of people howling in anger and outrage at the stores with no goods to sell, the banks with no money to loan, the doctors with no medicine to treat patients, and the gas stations with no fuel to pump. Right up until the electricity went out for good, every day, the news would tell another story of a police officer killed in the line of duty, protecting the businesses and banks from rioting vandals. Other days were sob stories of cancer stricken children that died slow, agonizing deaths because morphine was simply too expensive—and scarce—to use.

Money was the fabric that held our society together, the true ruler of Western Culture. But, after the Crash, you were lucky to find a penny on the street. If, of course, you survived leaving the safety of your home. 

After the electricity went out, about four months after the Crash, the guilds began to form. Some guilds were full of good people that simply wanted to live their lives and help others when they could. Most of the guilds, especially the top ones, however, were full of ex-convicts, malignant personalities, and all around bad people. The top guild in North Texas, where I lived, was called the Outlaws. They were originally a motorcycle gang, but, when the world went down, they quickly realized that putting a gun to people's heads was an excellently immoral way to procure food and supplies. The Outlaws often beat and robbed women and children that they caught alone. Whenever the Outlaws encountered a man, they killed him. 

Some would say that bad times bring out the worst in people, but I disagreed. I believed that the evil that was in people always showed. Bad times just make them express it in different ways. For instance, a person that bullied other people when the lights were turned on became a murderer when the lights turned off. 

In this entire hectic world, I still managed to fall victim to depression, anxiety, insomnia, and existential crisis. But, this new world that I lived in, this dystopia that rattled life as I knew it, gave me more of an outlet to be useful, to be needed. I could strike a hard bargain when my family ventured off our property to trade with our neighbors. I felt no immediate remorse if I had to hurt someone to protect my family. Before the Crash, I would have been called psychotic if I did any of the things that I did after the world as we knew it ended. But now, I held the proud title of 'useful'.

Now, as I stepped carefully out of the door, I wondered what would happen to my family if I died. It would benefit them, in a sardonic sense. It would be one less mouth to feed, one less back to clothe, one less health hazard. But it would hurt them, too. My parents would be distraught if they lost me. My family would have one less person that would help earn food, earn clothes, earn medicine. They would lose my strange awkwardness and humor that was too intelligent for them to understand. 

A sudden bolt of fear ripped through my entire body, making my fingers tingle. I could die tonight, sneaking out. I could die tonight, alone in the dark. I could die tonight.

I shook my head. There was a reason I needed to go into the forest. I felt like there was just something there that I needed to see. I carefully crept up to the fence around the property. My dogs were out, so I petted them and slipped over the fence. They wouldn't bark at me until I came back. If I came back. The pessimistic thought was just suddenly there. I couldn't control it. There was just a part of me that was convinced that I was going to die every time I put my foot on the ground.

I ran down the road, enjoying the feeling of air rushing passed my face. I ran at a steady pace all the way to the forest. I was glad that I had run Cross Country when the schools were still operational. Who knew that sports could help you in the apocalypse? When I got into the trees, I slowed to a walk. I loved the absolute darkness of the trees, only broken by white tiger stripes of light that glared through the branches. I walked all the way to a clearing that I hadn't known about before, and there, on the ground, laid a boy.

He was about a year or two older than myself, and sleeping peacefully on the ground. He had dirt and what looked like ash smeared on his face. I almost didn't recognize him, because his body had matured so much. In front of me slept someone I thought that I would never see again. I bent down and shook his shoulder. "Jaxon?"

ATTENTION, WE ARE ON RED ALERT, PEOPLE!!

The dreaded day has come...

I knew this was going to happen...

Guys... Don't kill me, but...

I'M OUT OF IDEAS!!!!

It's horrible! I can't think of anything that you guys would enjoy! I am asking a favor from all of you. In the comments below this post, give me your ideas. Tell me anything you'd like to see in a story. Odds are I'll write from it. Please help me, guys!

Ayuda me,

Frenchie

Stay awesome!

The Never Ending Nowhere

Middle of nowhere
In a world that never stops
Daintily teetering
Neither yesterday nor tomorrow
In a world that never stops
Going and going
Hellbound
Teetering on the edge of yesterday and the brink of tomorrow

Midnight silence
On the tail of yesterday
On the wisp of tomorrow
Neither dust nor gold
Loveless and lawless
In a world that never stops
Gone is the day before
However still not the day after
Too dark to tell

Don't believe everything you see
All are liars now
Run as fast as you can
Killers disguised as a
Nice guy
Everyone is out to use you
Some want to abuse you
Some want to see you run away in a dark hour

Midnight
Moonlight
Darkness

Not quite yesterday
But never tomorrow

His Eyes

Oh, so cold
As I beheld his frosty blue eyes
All I saw was cold
Cold
Cold
So, stone, cold

His eyes were cold, frozen
So full of scrutiny
Devoid of feeling
Irises of ice
Soul of snow
Frozen feelings

But I loved his eyes
Beautiful eyes
Mystery eyes
Confusing eyes
His eyes

I wouldn't say I loved him for his eyes
But that was certainly part of why
It was those confusing, closed off eyes
That taught me to see

You Guys Are Awesome!

Wow! I can't believe it! I checked on this blog in some free time today, and I saw it! 1,009 pageviews! You guys are AWESOME!! I can't believe this blog has gone that far already. I'm looking forward to getting to know you guys better and to bring you more writing!

Thanks guys!

The Rule of a Ghost King's Crown

I don't know why it's over
But the new age has come and gone
Gone as the green in the now dead clover
Has our hope passed on?

Who can tell when it will start again?
Who knows where it will end?

Why has the world fallen down
Into the rule of a ghost king's crown?
I don't know when we'll find normal
Will we have to resort to paranormal?
Para, para, para, para

Normal----

All around me on these city streets
All that's good and innocent depletes
Oh, so innocent, oh so sweet
Why did hope have to retreat
And leave us broken?

Para, para, para, paranormal

Only our demons know the words left unspoken, spoken, spoken
We're all haunted by ghosts of the past
Until our broken winged angels rescue us at last

Who can tell when it will start again?
Who knows where it will end?

Why has the world fallen down
Into the rule of a ghost king's crown?
I don't know when we'll find normal
Will we have to resort to paranormal?
Para, para, para
Para, para, para

Paranormal----

If You Never Fall At All

It's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all

Or so they say

For with the loss of love comes the burden of pain

And never loving at all is the avoidance of the post-relationship hurt

Whether it be your best friend or your lover

To lose love hurts more than never loving at all

Love is so much more amazing when you're in it

But hurts so much more when you fall out

When you fall in love, it's easy...to...break

But if your never fall at all it's hard to feel the pain

Not feeling anything at all hurts so...much...less

But never loving is a world without hap...py...ness

If you never fall at all, it's hard to break a bone

But if you fall down and down again

You've lived more and been happier than you've ever been 

If you never fall at all it's hard to break...your...heart

But if you never fall at all, what's the point in stand...ing...tall?

The Sky is Falling Down

Scars 

Fade

Along with every 

Memory

Light

Fades

Along with every

Dark day

Star

Shade

Falls around me in

Tight waves

Maybe I never

Knew

Why

Oh, why

As the fire falls around me

The world still spirals down, down, down

And society crushes all my dreams

All falling around me, falling down

Maybe one day I'll understand why

The sky is falling down

Maybe I'll teach them all to see

Corrupt is knocking morals down

The world is trying to kill you and me

Da, da, na, na

The sky is falling down

As the fire falls around me

The world still spirals down, down, down

And society crushes all my dreams

All falling around me, falling down

Maybe one day I'll understand why

The sky is falling down

Falling down, falling down

The sky is falling down

And the fire falls around me

The world still spirals down, far down

And society stomps out my dreams

The sky is falling down

No one will understand why

The sky is falling down

Run Through the Sand

Every second stretches longer than it really is
Time ticks far
Too
Slow
Every hour becomes an unconquerable distance

Long time, no see
I can't wait until the time comes

It's like trying to run through sand
The waiting
I can't get any closer than time will let me

Waiting, waiting, waiting
Running, running, running, through the sands of time
Slower, slower, slower
I can't wait
But time says I must

Run through the sand

With Every Scar Comes A Memory

I'm gonna write myself a story

Slow and peacefully

With every scar comes a memory

Slowly fading away from me

I'm gonna reach for what I can see

Each detail spreading like leaves on a tree

I'm gonna write myself a story

And my remembrance becomes cloudy

Everything I've done recalled saltily

I haven't had an original thought lately

Every little thing fading shakily

I'm gonna write myself a story 

And maybe, just maybe,

These scars will be the only thing you see

And maybe you'll see

I haven't, not yet, lost me

Broken Road

Everyone needs a friend

Everyone cannot be alone

Those who wish to wish to be alone

Wish to die

For loneliness is a dark place

Along the broken road

I am an angel

Not of light, nor of dark

But I am an angel

The avenging angel

Locked in a brutal war

With the void of loneliness 

Navigating with the world's forgotten at my side

Along the broken road

I walked through the door

And I found her crying

I went to sit with her

The tears flowed out of her eyes

A waterfall of trapped personality

A bandage was wrapped about her head

Stained red with hour old blood

She could barely move

But she cried

And when you beheld her rich brown eyes

You saw a soul inside

But when you beheld her mind

You saw a brain dead victim

Along the broken road

She needed a friend

Someone to help her

So I stayed 

An angel of gray

Combating the loneliness that came

With those stricken by accidents

I stayed with my hand on her shoulder

Watching her soul in her rich brown eyes

Struggle to stay afloat in her muddled mind

But I had to leave her that I may navigate

Along the broken road

Down the hall I opened another door

To a man that stared

At the wall, his eyes blank

He needed a friend he did not want

He wanted for nothing

His soul was gone

Behind his glassy blue eyes

Was a shattered legacy

He had no will, for it had been splintered

Along the broken road

I stood high above the world

And I watched the girl

Not yet a woman, not yet grown

I watched them grimace at each other 

The truth in their eyes reflecting the grim horror

Their souls could not take

I flew to the girl and I took her hand in mine

But she had no soul to register the gesture of kindness

Her body breathed but she did not

Her body was a slave to their machines

And their medicines

But she was not

As they cried and turned the machines off

I led the girl

Along the broken road

Music To Your Ears

Some opt for a whiskey lullaby
Some wish to hear a song of heartbreak
Some want to listen, listen to a warbling love ballad
Some don't want to feel anything at all
But all want music to their ears

Some claim they don't dance
But have never found someone to dance with
Some say they don't sing, no, no
But they haven't found the right song or
Music to their ears

La, la, la, la, la, la
Listen to the wind
Hear the babbling brook
Or drop that bass, bass, oh, oh
Pluck some strings or tap some drums
Listen to a good voice
Or an old, sad, song, oh, oh
Find your music, music
Music to your ears

Up high on the treble clef
Or down low is the bass clef
Flying in between the registers
Or maybe hit a couple of eighth notes, eighth notes
On a good snare drum
Pluck some strings on that guitar
Pull a bow across that violin

La, la, la, la, la, la
Listen to the wind
Hear the babbling brook
Or drop that bass, bass, oh, oh
Pluck some strings or tap some drums
Listen to a good voice
Or an old, sad, song, oh, oh
Find your music, music
Music to your ears

Find your music, music
Music to your
Woah, oh, oh, oh

Listen to the, oh, oh
Hear that, oh, oh
Or drop that, oh, oh
Pluck some, oh, oh, or tap some, oh, oh
Listen to an, oh, oh
Or an, oh, oh, oh
Find your, oh, oh
Music to your ears

Oh, oh, oh
Music to your ears

Any Last Words?

Any last words?
No, no, you cannot speak
For the world shall show no mercy
Any final requests?
They shan't be honored
For no one takes the time to hear
Any last words

Weird Nights 3.0 THE FINAL CHAPTER

Trumpet was secretly a little scared. First, French and Bass had disappeared. Then, Trumpet started having the visions.

They were just small glimpses at first. A raging fire. A desolate landscape. A crying mother, clutching the still body of a child. A dried up riverbed. A flooded neighborhood, the homes in ruin.

Then, the visions became accompanied by smells. Burning flesh. Metallic blood. Dry dust. Rotten meat.

Trumpet felt trapped in his own head. The final blow to his sanity, the one that drove him over the edge, were the sounds. Sizzling water. Dry wind. The screams. Of agony, despair, fear, loneliness, broken promises, shattered dreams. More screams. Of victory, fiendish delight, battle.

Trumpet was clutching his ears, curled into the fetal position on the floor of his bedroom, muttering nonstop about the pain, the desolation, the loneliness, the insanity, faster, and faster, and faster, and faster and faster and faster and faster. Trumpet screamed, he cried, he shouted, until his throat was raw, his eyes dry, and his voice ripped apart.

Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but he refused to eat. He didn't want more energy to hear more noises, see more places, smell more odors.

The visions, the sounds, and the noises began to stay longer.

Trumpet was trapped in eternity, inside his own head. Mumbling, screeching, crying, screaming, sobbing, more and more until his own terror swallowed him, scathing him with icy claws. His heart pounded, and every time he heard the thud, thud, thud, Trumpet could see someone being beaten. First, they were men, engaged in a fight. Next, the victim were women, being beaten with long metal poles, covered in dried blood. Before Trumpet snapped, they were children. Young children. Being kicked, bruised, starved. Trumpet was buried alive, every thud of his heart shoveling more and more mania on top of him.

And Trumpet Highnotes snapped.

His brain seemed disconnected from his body. It moved, it pounded, and it screamed. The intensity forced Trumpet to howl, to shriek, to beg mercy from an unwilling master. Trumpet couldn't take it any more. Then Nate Soakreed came to visit him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Brad awoke from the most horrifying nightmare he had ever dreamt up. Slowly and shakily, he got out of bed. Men in white hazmat suits swarmed in. Brad shouted and tried to claw through the suits, but he couldn't very well claw through plastic. The men held his arms and legs like Huns. One held a cool metal barrel to Brad's head. The clocked slowed down. The trigger clicked, Brad breathed out, the gunpowder ignited, the bullet spun out of the barrel.

And Brad could dream no more.

There Is A World

There is a world
Far beyond the seas of imagination
There is a world
Closer than the dust on the wind
There is a world
Where choices have only the consequences deserved
There is a world

Where the sun sets on a deep aquamarine sea
A red bubble of healthy blood
On a horizon made of tangerines
Flecked with clouds
Purple lavenders, pink carnations, red poinsettias, white roses
Painted beyond the simple azure sky
There is a world

A world where crime is brought to justice
A world where bullies are bullied back
A world where no one goes to bed hungry at night

A world where navy blue midnight
Doesn't spell crime
A world not bourne on one person's shoulders
Threatening to crush them
A world where the grass is never dead
But not always green

There is a world
A world beyond the sea of desolation
There is a world
A world closer than the screams on the wind
There is world
A world where no one gets away with it
There is a world
A world

There is a world we can always be

Empty Promises

Black hair, blue eyes
The hopeless space between stars
The color of lies
Red gold, silver lines
The hue of hollow pain
Wrapping up and down his arms in empty vines

She broke all of her
Empty promises
Wreaking frost on his soul
He was hurt
By all of her

Empty promises
Stolen Wishes
Bloodthirsty ways
He paid for all of it
Empty promises

They found his body two days later
Covered in silver lines
With no more sunshine
Shining from beneath his scars
Red gold
The hue of empty promises

Stolen wishes
Heaven, sin
Even the hopeless space
Between stars
Like his hair
Now stained
With empty promises

Fire, hell
Sunlight, heaven
Too cold for the color of lies
Akin to his staring eyes
Glassy and filled
With empty promises

Marvelous

Today was a good day
It was not a hard day
But filled with sweat nonetheless
I thought not about quitting
No one lost
Today was a good day

Today was a fine day
Filled with laughter and cheer
But reality loomed around the corner
I thought not about hurt or hurting
Everyone smiled
Today was a fine day

Peace

Ignorance

Only bliss in short

Aloofness

The only choice for a hurting heart

Gossip

Only for pinch faced hawks

Rumors

The bane of eternity, just weeds

Pain

The only vector of sweet release

Isolation

A long time friend of hurt

Bravery

Deserts those who need it most

Cowardice

The only way out

Gunshots

Slashing knives

Peace

Freedom