Passion

A burning sensation.

Something only you know how to feed. So that it grows and turns into something beautiful. Its overwhelms your life and allows you to live the only way you should, freely. There are no more ropes keeping you down, like shackles on a prisoner, nothing you can’t shake off, just a shrug of your shoulders and you are okay. When you let your passion consume you, you find a way to fill that deep, dark, intense void that has been eating you alive. It’s something you just can’t deny or ignore. Because if you don’t feed it, it’ll turn into that monster you dream of. That monster that becomes your life. It is the only thing that solely belongs to you, because your passion should be your life, your life should be your passion. Both are intertwined, for without passion what is the life you live, and without this life how can you act out on your passion. Eat, breathe, sleep, think of only your passion and your life is fulfilled. You have a reason to live. Let nothing else control you, be a slave to your passion, be a slave to yourself. 

Lonesome.

Feeling lonely is something that we all experience in our lives. Humans crave for companionship no matter how much they try to deny it, we're social creatures. No matter how much we say we don't need anyone to get us through live, we do. Some say feeling lonely is all in your head, you feel lonely in a crowded room, it's all because of your thoughts. You are spending time with an amazing person, but that internal void still gnaws and pulls at you until you fall into a slum and you can't pull yourself out. You need someone to help you out of it, but you can't seem to find a friend, lover, or just anyone to do that for you. You are stuck and the only person who can help you is you. Being alone is not easy but the only way you can be with someone is if you know what it's like being alone, otherwise how will you ever appreciate the other person. Likewise if you want someone to appreciate you, you have to leave them alone for a while. But that's a whole different story. First focus on yourself, be alone. Embrace it, not matter how much it hurts. It's one lesson you have to learn, the sooner the better. Just make sure you get out of it alive. 

Captured and Bound - 2

He shifts the body of the woman to his left side to get a better grip on the door handle, and as soon as he enters the barren, damp room he feels a pang of pity for her. Alas, this is his job and he has to do as he is told, though it’s easier when the body doesn’t have such a soft, pretty face. He places her on the chair placed in the middle of the room and first ties her waist in place. He leaves a little slack so that she has a tiny bit of space to move when she wakes up. Next he chains her wrists to the arms of the chair and while doing so he can’t resist the urge to take her hand and stroke it. At times he wished he didn’t have to do all of this, deep down he’s not a violent person, he was only doing this job for the money and as soon as he had enough saved up he would leave. At least that is what he kept telling himself, but the money just never seemed to add up. After he had tied her down in all the right places he placed her head on her shoulder and with one last longing look he limped out of the ‘dungeon’ as he liked to think of it, and locked the door.

                Dragging his own cozy little chair towards himself, he realized how tired he really was, and when he finally sat down he let out a sigh of relief. He knew she wasn’t going to be conscious anytime soon so he decided a nap would be nice. He made himself comfortable and almost immediately dozed off. It was only when he heard his radio start buzzing did he wake up, the blasted thing always annoyed him. He turned the volume down low so all he could hear was a soft hum. He wondered if she was up yet and got out of his chair to go look through the little peep hole next to the window meant for ventilation. He looked at his electronic wrist watch and noticed that he had slept through the night; the sun was probably just rising outside. Oh, outside, how he missed it so much, he had been stuck patrolling the ‘dungeon’ for three months now. He cursed himself and he realized he had already used his day off for this month and started pining for the April breeze.  He was brought back to the present when he heard a soft groan from the lady inside. He focused his eyes on her and noticed she was finally coming back to her senses. He felt exceptionally bad for her and decided to break one of the small tiny rules; he took his flashlight and shined it through the window. At least she would have some light, if nothing else, he thought to himself.

The man continued watching her for a while but when he’s stomach gave a noticeable jerk he decided it was time to eat. He double checked the lock on the door and taped the flashlight at the window’s ledge. He glanced at her one last time and found that it pained him to see her so miserable. He wondered what someone so beautiful could have done to anger the boss, enough to get her time in the ‘dungeon’. But that was none of his business; he just had to keep guard and make sure the prisoner didn’t escape. Not that any prisoner had ever escaped. The ‘Dungeon’ was nearly 200 feet below ground level with state of the art oxygen supply and a completely natural look; no one could ever tell it was built to look the way it looked.  It was almost as if someone just made a hole in the ground, but in reality it was wired with so many different alarm systems and there were tiny vents blowing in oxygen. They could even control the moisture levels in the air, not to mention the temperature. He was sure there was a lot more he didn’t know about behind the mechanics of the ‘dungeon’ but he couldn’t be bothered to find out, not that anyone would tell him. He wasn’t at the top of the ladder; he was actually one of the bottom rungs. That didn’t bother him at all, as long as he was paid on time and got all the perks they promised him.

As he made his way to the mess, his thoughts made an unexpected leap to his past. He hadn’t thought about his life before working for the boss in a very long time. He was a simple security guard at the mall. He was fresh out of high school, not a cent to his name and living out of his mother’s basement; funny how he eventually landed up in a huge, state of the art, basement.  He remembered his first pay check and running home to give it to his mother who saved it in the ‘new home’ jar. He had never known affluence; his mother was an immigrant from Hungary and was very young when her parents were shot dead right in front of her. All she ever wanted was to move her son away from the unruly neighborhood that took her parents and then went on to take her husband as well. As he approached the mess, he wiped away a tear from his eye, it wouldn’t do well to be seen crying in front of the guys.

He nodded his head and smiled politely as he passed by some of the men closer to the boss, or as he liked to call them ‘suited monkeys’. He got his tray of eats and sat alone, he didn’t feel like wasting time talking to the guys, he wanted to get back to the woman to make sure nothing went wrong, but most of all to see if she was okay. He gulfed down his food, avoiding any kind of eye contact. Within three minutes he was done with everything on the tray. He grabbed his bottle of juice, wiped his face with a napkin and nodded his goodbyes to the guys. It was uncommon for someone to dine and dash, no one got offended if you didn’t sit with them, no one started a fight if you didn’t speak to them. Professional life was so much better than high school, and his job at the mall. He couldn’t believe it has only been 5 years since he had nothing. And now, he has his own house, in a neighborhood his mother approves of, she lives with him and doesn’t have to work anymore. Of course she wishes he would be home more often, but he tells her that soon enough he will be home all the time.

He finally gets back to his post and peeks through to see that she is now fully alert, part of him cheers victoriously that she is awake and the other part is worried about the part that is cheering! He reprimands himself for spending so much time looking at her and scuttles over to settle down in his relaxing chair. He tunes his radio to his favourite station and thanks the boss that the ‘dungeon’ walls are sound proof. He listens to the calming music and realizes he’s left the flashlight on. He glances over and decides to leave it there till night fall, it’s the least he can do for the angel face trapped in the ‘dungeon’.

Captured and Bound

      Her eyes flutter open and she slowly regains consciousness. She lifts her head and her eyes immediately follow the single ray of light that falls into the room, she looks towards the window and realizes she is underground. Her thoughts are sluggish and she feels sick, her first instinct is to get up and run, but as she tries to move she finds that she is bound to her seat. There are chains on her feet and her hands are tied to the arms of the chair, she pushes herself forward to find even her waist is locked down to the chair by a tight leather cloth. The stress she applies to get out of the chair is too much for her and she has to stop lest she becomes unconscious once again. She takes a long deep breath only to find that the air makes her lungs burn and she coughs up a combination of blood and bile. She feels like screaming, kicking and crying but she knows she must remain calm.

      She decides she has to take in her surrounds and try not to fight. She looks back at the window and watches the solitary ray of light quickly disappear. Suddenly the room is pitch black, a black that is blacker than black. It’s as if the air around her is opaque, not a single bit of the sunlight has been absorbed by the room. She closes her eyes and finds that the darkness she feels with them closed is more comfortable. She concentrates all her strength to her ears and listens hard. Somewhere in the room she hears a muted trickling of water, and even the scuttling of insects, which further confirms her thoughts of being underground. She focuses more on her ears but unfortunately that is all she can seem to make out. Once again her head becomes dizzy and she stops herself from overstraining. Now that her adrenaline has dimmed down she starts feeling pain in various places, her arms throb and she thinks her ankle may be twisted. Even though her back is pressed against the chair she feels a sharp sting across it. The pain makes it harder for her to think straight but she needs to keep her mind agile. Next she puts her nose to the test, the sharp stench of human feces enters her nose and she can only conclude that she has made a mess, considering the state she is in she doesn’t even feel disgusted with herself, in fact she is relieved that her body still works normally. Despite the smells of human waste she catches a whiff of mildew, and knows for certain there is water close by. Her tongue is dry and her mouth tastes vile due to the blood, if only there was a way she could get to the water. She knows by thinking of it her dehydration will only get worse. She thinks of a nice cool glass of cranberry juice to get her salivating, and as soon as she builds up the slightest amount of saliva she swallows, bringing a small amount of relief to her throat.

      The pain keeps building up and it reaches a point where she feels like she would rather die, but then she recalls her training. She brings up an image in her mind, a beautiful lush meadow. There is a stream running through the green grass and flowers scattered all around her. She just has to concentrate on this image and she will make it through. She knows there is no point in trying to escape, she has lost all her energy and must build it up before she can try anything. She forces her body to relax and concentrates on the serenity she has managed to conjure up in her head. She is lying on the grass as a butterfly comes and sits next to her. She walks to a tree and picks up a ripe apple lying at its base. As she pictures herself taking a huge chunk of the apple her mouth salivates once again, and she can almost taste the juicy red apple. She continues her mediation and slowly but surely the pain dulls down, she can feel herself rejuvenating. She keeps her eyes closed and slowly moves her fingers; she doesn’t want any sudden shocks of pain. Thanking her stars she finds all her fingers are intact and none have been broken or cut off, which she knows is common practice when it comes to torture. She imagines herself petting her little puppy back home which brings a slight smile to her cracked lips. That smile however has cost her, her lips start bleeding profusely and her mouth is once again filled with the taste of iron. She sticks out her tongue in hopes to capture any moisture that may be in the air, and she finds herself lucky when she retracts her tongue to find it isn’t dried up. Feeling hopeful, she slows down her breathing and tries to hold in as much oxygen in her lungs as she can. She must awaken all her brain cells if she wants to devise an escape plan.

      She stays in her little world for what may as well be an eternity; she thinks she has no concept of time. When it dawns on her, she has forgotten about the window, she glances over and notices the ray of light is back. But it couldn’t possibly be the sun, she would have seen moonlight if it was; unless of course it’s time for the new moon. She shakes her head, none of these thoughts matter right now. She sticks to the belief that a night has passed and decides she is going to keep count. One night, one long night has passed since she regained awareness. She stares at the window, trying to soak in all the light she can through her eyes. That little bit of light is all she has to hold on to right now, the only small wisp of hope that she will once again be able to bathe in the sunlight. 

Music and the Soul

Music makes my soul feel good,

But for music to be made,

I need a musician.

The rhythm, the melody, and the beats,

All put together, 

Make my heart smile.

The tempo, the pitch,

If you get them just right,

Makes me glow.

But for music to be made,

I need a musician.

I dance across the room,

Like the eight-notes on a sheet of paper,

The lyrics tell a story,

One I’ve never heard before.

A story that I know so well,

One that I feel in my body.

But for music to be made,

I need a musician.

Every song is like a soul,

Waiting to rise above,

Touching other souls on their journey,

Touching my soul.

Music makes my soul feel good,

Are you my musician?

We are your instruments,

And through us you make your music.

I have my musician. 

She - Patience

Patience 
She sits in one of the many dark blue plastic chairs, waiting uncomfortably for some news on what is happening. The light bulbs enveloped every inch of the room in a sickly bright white. The stench of cleaning liquids and sterilizers fill her nose and she has the urge to sneeze but stops herself. She eyes the nurse at the help desk, hoping to catch her eye and indicate that she’s been waiting patiently for so long, she is now at wits end. The worst thoughts start to set camp in her brain and there is nothing else she can think of. And why should she have to divert her mind, she’s here to help someone dear to her. There is a constant buzzing of voices, from the speakers in the walls, from the nurses, patients, doctors, visitors. No one seems to be silent except for her. She gets up and starts pacing up and down, she has to find a way to get in a meet him. She’s the only person who was there who actually cares, the only one who saw what happened state he was in and panicked. The rest just stared, as if he was performing a special trick for a circus side show. People can be so unbelievable at times; no one went to help him. She saw them take him to the ambulance and she was in a state of shock, it took her time to realize she should go after him. The taxi ride seemed to take an eternity and she couldn’t stop the silent tears pouring down her face. She finally reached the hospital and rushed to find him, they told her to wait and that they would inform her, and which each second she grew more restless. Eventually they called her over and she walked through the unfamiliar walls and as soon as she turned the last corner she saw his beaming face. Then all her worries vanished and she smiled back at him, everything was alright.  

Those Days

Morning
You wake up 
Ask yourself 
Is it worth it?
Going though another day
The same thing
Repeatedly
Why even get out of bed?
Why not just lie there?
Forever
You don’t have incentive to get it
So why do you?
It’s that little glimmer of hope.
That chance that it may be different
That today will be 
Everything you want it to be
Today will be that dream you had last night
Of the perfect day.
So you do get out of bed.
And by the time you get back to bed.
Nothing has happened.
It’s all the same. 
But still the next morning, 
You still get up.
You still think that maybe
Just maybe
Today will be different.
And so goes your life.
Day by day
Until one day you decide 
That’s it. 
You are done.
And that is the day
It happens. 
Your miracle.
You finally have your day.
And it is
Amazing. 
I’m waiting for that day.

She - Relief

Relief

She can hear the rain drops hitting the hot asphalt outside, she slowly opens her eyes from her midday siesta and peeks out the window. She sees the leaves blowing, the water pouring and the children playing. She jumps out of bed and runs to her balcony and the musty smell of water mixed with dirt hits her nose. She breathes it in and her insides instantly begin to stir. She feels like the few seconds in the rain has energized her more than any amount of sleep ever could. She slips into a pair of shorts and a cotton t shirt and is off to dance with the raindrops. The streets are flooded and her clothes immediately start absorbing water, within a few minutes they are so drenched they seem to be pulling her down, but that doesn’t stop her. She slips and slide through the muddy grass and races with the young children, who like her, don’t care who is watching. The water clings to her skin, and she is grateful for this temporary relief from the dreadful heat. The mud splatters all over her legs as she jumps into the largest puddle she can find, in the midst of all the revelry she doesn’t mind the mess one bit. The rain brings a special type of joy to her, a joy that resonates in her soul, in every atom of her being. The rain brings her back to her core spirit, she feels free and relaxed, energized and at peace. She is at her prime.  

A special journey

         It surprises me how a complete stranger can turn into someone you would trust your life with. Her heart starts racing as she throws her leg over the motorcycle and she holds on to his almost non-existent waist. He turns back and tells her to hold on tight. She moves in closer and takes a deep breath as he kicks them into motion. The wind blows in their face and they are off. As they make their way she starts thinking of the very first time she met him, she was so shy and slightly afraid. She didn’t know what to expect and had no idea that almost four years into the future she would be sitting with him on a motorcycle with the summer sun beating down on them. He periodically glances back at her to make sure she is okay, and every time he does so her heart feels warmer and she starts to smile. Despite her fears she feels safe around him and knowing that he cares makes her feel even safer. When their journey comes to an end her face falls to a frown and she wishes he didn’t have to leave, alas they must bid farewell till next time. He takes her in a warm embrace and she can smell his scent on his skin, she lingers there for a moment until she realizes she has to let go. She wants to hold onto him forever, he is the one who has been there for her through all that has gone wrong. He has helped pick up the pieces and made her smile through her tears.  Every time she has to say goodbye her stomach feels uneasy, she never wants him out of her sight lest something happens to him. He slowly rides away and she slumps back into her dull monotonous life, waiting for the next time he’ll bring some light into her life. 

She - Submerged

Submerged

She stands at the edge of the glittering body of water, the breeze create tiny waves that tickle her toes. The sun has set and there is a nip in the air, but she doesn't mind at all. She slowly submerges herself into the cool liquid and every inch of her skin prickles up. Her teeth chatter for the first few seconds but she is soon acclimated to the temperature of her surroundings. Once she is comfortable she pushes off the wall and allows her muscles to take control. Her arms move like a windmill pushes the water back, and with each thrust she moves forward. Her legs kick, propelling her further, perfectly synchronized with her arms. With each breathe she feels more alive and when she reaches the end of her first lap she doesn't even hesitate before starting the next. She continues her routine as the water glides over her skin just as it would glide over any sea creature. She is in her element and feels more graceful than she ever does on land. Her arms and legs seem to have turned into fins and she swims with no reserve, when she is swimming she doesn't care who is watching or what is happening in the world around her. She is with herself and at peace, the constant motion brings a special stillness to her mind and she has only one thought ‘keep going, don’t stop’.
 

Consumed

Events have transpired. Words have been said. Looks have been given. Hearts have been broken.

It seems that with every passing moment, you cannot keep track of what is happening. Like the world is conspiring against you and you can’t seem to stop what the heavens wish to do to you. The only thing you can do is accept your fate and stand to a side silently awaiting your destiny. When you make a decision it seems like you are only making the wrong one. But do we make all the wrong choices so that one day we can make the right and appreciate it more. If only it worked that way, but I don’t think it does. One by one you push everyone away; you are like a parasite, feeding on others. Don’t you realize that one day they will not have anything left for you to feed off of? Slowly they all die off, leaving you alone, to gradually consume yourself. But you are limited to what they are, so there isn’t much left is there?

You look for an answer, but you can’t seem to find one, you ask for help, but no one seems to know what to do. The only thing left to do is to give up. And do you do.

You need to find support, something to hold on to. But there is nothing left, you’ve consumed it all. They don’t want you anymore.

It’s over.

You’re over.

She - Natural

Natural

She awakes from a deep slumber by violent pains in her abdomen. She opens her droopy eyes and gets up from her bed to go ask for some medications. When she gets up she sees a pool of red on her sheets. She is absolutely horrified and yet she remains calm. It’s a day she knew would come, not that she was enthusiastic about it, but she was prepared. She goes to her mother and wakes her up as well. At first her mother is disgruntled about being woken up at such an ungodly hour, but once she hears the news her disposition changes completely. Her mother’s face lights up and she gives her a warm hug. She manages to wiggle out of the hug and they get to business washing the sheets while her mother talks to her about how she is now a woman. They talk about how ever girl comes to age a certain points in their life and how she is now a part of the so called ‘club’. She nods and smiles while in her mind all she can think about it going back to sleep. She dreads the fact that she will go through this on a regular basis, and wishes she didn’t have to. Alas, this is how it is and there is not much she can do about it, nature is nature and no man, or woman should doubt the ways of nature. 

Freedom

Freedom is being able to be who you are. It is when you can feel each atom in your body vibrating, and you can feel the oxygen hitting your brain. It’s being able to scream on the top of your lungs and not caring who hears you. It is a bird that soars through the heavens without a care in the world. Like the tumultuous ocean that wreaks havoc while maintaining it's duty as a safe haven. Freedom is having the right to control your life and live it the way you want. Freedom is not worrying about materialistic gain but spiritual gain. In our world freedom is scarce; most are slaves to their daily lives, while others are slaves to their fellow human beings. Some have freedom handed to them on a silver platter and refuse to take it. Others fight for their freedom, they fight till their death. But once you have freedom it pours over you like rain drops on your skin. You absorb it and you can feel it in every cell of your body. Freedom is not only a physical release from your shackles but a mental release from your limitations and inhibitions. You need to want it with all your being for it to be real. 

Lonely Tears

When a harsh word cuts deep, 
And a raised voice hurts your heart.
When a false face plays deceit,
The tears start rolling down your face,
Leaving behind a trail of black stains your cheeks.
You would think you'd wish you have someone to wipe away the tears, 
Take away all your fears.
No, that wish is too cliqued.
Now you just wish that there was someone, 
Who can understand what it feels like.
Understand exactly what you are going through.
Not to stop the tears, 
But to add to them.
So that you aren't alone.
You feel your wish will never come true.
You lose all your faith and hope.
Slump back to reality,
You will always cry alone.
No one else will know the same pain.
Your tears will always be alone.

She - Fate

Fate

She is the eldest of 8, the only one old enough to lend a hand to her mother. At the ripe age of 15 years she has lost her hero, the only man she has ever loved. She walks to her mother and tries to comfort her, but no words seem to come out. She doesn’t want to have to be the strong one, she should be allowed to be weak, but she keeps her chin up and doesn’t let her mask fall. She can’t even imagine thinking of the future when it seems to be such a struggle just getting through today. Never in her wildest dreams did she think her childhood would be cut so short. 

It is all fate; she takes it in her stride. She accompanies her uneducated mother to the banks, she handles their finances. She helps her younger siblings get through school and gives them advice when they come to her with their problems. She runs to school during the day, her only escape from the insanity at home. The only time she gets to be a real child, she laughs, runs, plays games with her friends. When she goes back home in the evening she must help with the cooking as well as finish her school work. She never thought life would be so difficult, but there is nothing she can do about it. She feels so helpless and desperate for someone to come save her from this situation. 

At night when all the work is done and everyone seems to be asleep she walks out to her garden. The only place she gets a moment to herself, her secret garden where nothing can hurt her. She tends to her roses and admires her lilies. Her mind starts wandering when a scared little voice pipes up and asks her to come in. She turns around with her arms open and her little brother jumps into her embrace. She walks in and lies down next to this adorable little boy. She looks into her eyes and sees her father looking back at her, warm brown eyes comforting her from beyond. Everything is going to be alright.

Rain

A scar across the night sky.

A mysterious glow in the air.

A gust of wind, throws you off guard.

The whisper of the leaves

What do they signal?

Danger or perhaps something else,

Perhaps an occurrence you’ve been waiting for.

A single drop falls,

A miniscule piece of the puzzle,

With the same brilliance of its source,

It lands exactly on the tip of your nose.

In the distance you here a grumble,

A rumble of the tempest that is about to begin.

For some it is a disaster,

While for others it is a miracle.

And for you,

A chance to rid yourself

Rid yourself of the burden.

Rid yourself of the sins.

Rid yourself of the fears that haunt you.

The opportunity to bathe,

In the purest element.

The sidewalk slowly turns a darker shade.

And swiftly the sky starts plummeting down.

The fantastic flashes of light increase in intensity,

The distant protest is now an aggressive roar.

And you revel in the majestic beauty of the rain.