Shadow Void

What Do You See?

When you look at me, what do you see? Do you see my struggles; the moments that I slide backwards? Do you see my tears; my pains? Can you see into my past and see each time that my heart was cracked in two by someone's cold hands? Can you feel my every emotion; all the sadness, all the grief, and every ounce of happiness? Can you feel every hit and kick that my body has taken? Can you see my everyday and know the good and the bad that was dealt to me each day?

 

I don't know what you see when you glance at me. You don't know my struggles enough to care. My tears are shed where mortals eyes cannot see. The past is gone, locked away within the pages of my memory, so you can't steal any views of my life unless I choose to set those memories free for you. My feelings are my own so you don't know anything about my bodily pains. You are not with me every second of every day so you can't see everything that happens in my life.

 

BOTTOM LINE; DON'T JUDGE ME

A Piece That Isn't Named

This is another piece that I was thinking of using for one of the stories. I have to come up with something interesting.

In your walk your head held high, you're acting like you've got something to prove. Too bad for you I already know that you've been skipping out on me. I already know that there is someone else in your life beside me.

Did you honestly think that you could keep this a secret? Did you honestly believe that I wouldn't see the signs in front of me? I'm not blind, I see the way you creep around as you keep me in the dark.

You feed me lies on top of lies and then expect me not to cry. Wish the pain would go away but it's still here, I don't know why. Why do you try to cover up all the filthy things you've done. I guess it's true what everyone said about you.

They said that you were no good that you should leave me feeling dead, and now I'm drained. I don't think you even care what happens next as long you're happy. I could be sad, I could be dead, and you still wouldn't care.

As long as you leave my room fulfilled guess that's all you need me for. I just want you gone so pack bags and walk away. Don't want to hear anymore lies, don't want to hear anymore pleas.

Don't want to deal anymore with your mess, don't want to carry any baggage after you've split. I'll the times when things were good, but I can't recall any at all. Guess, I'll try to leave it behind in the past where it belongs.

Keep on walking, don't look back; don't look back, forget my face, my number, and my email address. Please forget that it's been six months, and let me have my life back. I want to be free to spread my wings.

 

 

L.A. Exploded

It seems like a century since L.A. exploded; race against race and gang against gang. Images of violence and black smoke splashed across the news. Hellish, my word to describe the way L.A. appeared as people went crazy out in the streets. 120 dead, why do we let our hearts get so hard and so fragile. Why do we store our rage under our skin, knowing it might spill out? Chaos spread her menacing wings while Strife unleashed hate and fear upon the citizens of the City of Angels. Buildings burned, kids packed heat, and people prayed for light to shine in the hearts of their members. When the smoke cleared and the violence stopped, did we learn anything? Did we as a nation wake up to the fact that hatred left in our hearts spreads out like a cancer to consume us?

In short, the answer is no. Such a diaster is bound to happen again in our history until we see each person as equal, until we let hate die within us, until we wake up to the fact that we are one race. Until we wake up I fear Chaos, Strife, Fear, and Hate will be well fed. With so many willing to put others to death, we won't be free of the curse. As long as we let demons whisper in our ears then our streets will remain battlegrounds. Our children will continue to be pulled to the anti-families who seem to rule our city streets. Our children are sacrificed to this monster called Gang. They see it as a place where they can find love, but it's little more than an army. They sign up through battle and then pack heat to defend what they think is their home. They're willing to die and willing to lie all in the name of their so called gang. When one little soldier dies another is found to stand in the ranks. It's willing to tell that they belong for life and willing to order his minions to kill.

It gives orders to kill and like sheep they obey. They fail to see any other way to get the acceptance, they need, so they kill. They, the soldiers, listen to whatever lies ring out from the mouths of men who once upon a time where tricked into this family.

This, this menace isn't just from the gang. It springs from our own blindness; our own lack of hearing . If our eyes don't see the problems before us then maybe, they don't exsist. If our ears don't their cries for help then we can sit back and stay in our safety zone. Our fears, our own evils mingle in our hearts and wear us down till nothing else will fit inside of us. Our anger works in that same way. Our anger builds and fills us up like a balloon. If we don't let it out, if we don't vent them then it builds until it can't take in any more ire. At some point, we'll get full of anger and then we'll burst. When we explode, it may be at someone innocent of any crimes against us.

Now imagine; a city, a nation, filled with ire. What happens when we cannot move anger away, it builds, it fills, and then it explodes. Explosions that rock us whose shockwaves spread out touching all in the path. It moves us, it rocks us, until we too are filled by emotions, that will send us to our doom. We get caught up in the web weaved by the emotions and whispers that surround us.

 

Unnamed Poem

I wonder when you sit and stare what thoughts are passing through your mind? You seem to be in some other place at times and I wonder where that might be? Is it a place that I can visit or see? Are your thoughts confused or filled with fear? Sometimes through your eyes, I try to envision just what is locked behind your eyes. I try to envision just what is locked behind your soul's door. You speak but I don't always comprehend the words that come forth. When I hear with my ears those words that you spoke, I try to take each one into my heart. I want to know each sound, each word that passes from your lips. What grand intelligence exists within you? Your veil keeps you locked away from the world. It's hard sometimes to get a feel for what lays on the surface. Your voice is masked behind your veil. It's hard sometimes for you to get your words out, does that ever cause you anguish? I wonder if it makes you angry when others don't hear the words that you're speaking. I wonder.

Lost Along The Way

Before I start this piece, I want to preface it by saying that this material was and is written purely by fiction. OH...before I forget, there is going to be another edition of the piece called " Kicked To The Curb ". Now back to the original posting for tonight.

 

Lost Along The Way

 

Somewhere, somehow, I got off the track on my way through life. It wasn't planned, my little detour, and yet here I am. I could be anyone whose stepped off the trail thinking I'll get back on when the moments right. One moment leads to another moment and before I knew it too many had passed before me. Didn't think that it would hurt to have a little fun. I've burned to many bridges. My way back is now a longer, steeper, and more perilous route. Is it worth it? Don't know and I'm afraid to find out. I could stumble and fall. Without my strength, I couldn't climb out.

Too much time has gone by with me in this hole. Spent too much time looking down and not enough looking up. I've pushed away my friends and family. All I have now are users and abusers. I've given up on having hope, that I'll escape this nightmare that I created. You came along and let in some light so maybe there is some hope amongst all the darkness. Still, I'm not strong enough to walk the path back. I need you by my side to hold me up. Somehow, someway I've got to find my way back.

Supposed To Be

You live your lives by an unwritten code and expect everyone to fit the mold. You set the heights for others to teach and then you forget that we're all not 6'6". I'm supposed to be married and doing my part to expand the human population. Pardon the mess, but I may just get sick. Being in bed with a woman will not happen not now, not ever. One simple kiss between two guys and it's like the world is about to crumble away. I see your disgust and all I can say is "Now you know how I feel." Society and church tell me to be this and tell me to be that but they can't see the blues that fill my soul.

We throw messages out there that being gay are wrong, that you'll burn because of who you are, and what do we expect our kids to do when faced with an eternity in bonds. Even you can't be that cold to let the future sink into the blues or worse. Our youth are a sacred trust but we pile on the pressure without a lifeline and then when it gets too much and their hearts give out, we stand ready to fight against the ignorant foe.

I'm supposed to blend in with the crowd and it's been working but people still know, their eyes still see that I'm me. Oh how they look at me when they think I can't see. Do you think I can't feel their judgments falling down on me? When faced with that threat we can dry up and die or we can stand with the knowledge that being gay is good not bad.

This land is supposed to be free and equal for all so why can't I have the same rights as my parents? My money is all good it's donation to our running of our country. Forget that I work to improve the lives of your children, forget that I voted so you could be in office, and forget that I was born into this country.

I'm supposed to be free to live out my life with happiness by my side and yet, I can feel my happiness being toyed with by leaders and voters, who think they have some stake in my life. You sit high and mighty on your porcelain thrones as my rights get flushed down into the sewer.

Thank goodness for those who see the truth and know that I'm not any different than them. They can see us and our river of struggles trying to go upriver amongst all the chaos, so they can join with us as brothers and sisters fighting with us that our voices might rise up to the Mount. Shouldn't we stick up for each other in this life?

We shouldn't be trying to be this "Supposed person", we should be just ourselves and the world should be happy with that.

Telling Me

Panic written on your face. Fear is written across your forehead. Something has you tied in knots. When your lips have finally spoke, I could see butterflies dancing in your stomach. As your words escaped their prison, I too was feeling anxious. It must have taken you awhile to gather the fortitude to stand before me here. Despite your tears, I know this day will live on forever. You've said your piece and now, you wait to hear my thoughts. You're sweating now, perhaps waiting isn't your thing. This moment shouldn't be one, that causes you to suffer. My hand holds yours as I look into your eyes. A smile spreads across your face lips and I utter "I already knew!". Surprise takes your voice and locks it away behind the veil of happy times. I'm relieved that you choose me to be the first to hear your heart. Questions may yet pop up inside your mind and I want you to have that trust in me so you bring questions to my ear.

Leaving

Should I stay or should I go? I think, I'll turn myself around and head on out that open door. I don't know just what I'll find on the other side. Will it be any easier? I don't know but I'll find my way long this new path. When I find my destination, a moment's pause is all I'll take before heading out to hike once more down this road. I must admit, I'm a little worried and a little scared that I might fall and lose my way. Don't want to be stuck with no place to go. There has to be more to life than this place I'm in now. Want to see what lies ahead but then again maybe I'm wrong for wanting to glimpse a part of my future. Don't know how much long my brain can take this day to day routine. I'll need to hand on and move along until my body is freed from this wear and tear. I dream of greener pastures where wild things go about their day and where the air is fresh and free.

Making Sense of Drama

Some time ago, a friend mentioned that my life would make a good book. So I asked him if it was due to the drama. His reply was mentioned that my life seemed to have a good mix of ups and downs. Seems like amongst the roses there are some skunks lurking around the paths in my life. Lately, it seems like all the drama in my life is being stirred up by the people around me. I don't know where the book would start or where the book should end. Suppose the on again, off again drama would be the meat of the book. My life like everyone's has ups and downs but I don't think my life is all that exciting. I mean there are tons of people whose blogs I visit, who seem to be way more exciting than me. I suppose there are parts of my life that aren't so boring and there may very well be parts of the book that will grab people's attention. Oh I would want to include a section on my hobbies. Still this book might just force me to use an real, regular outline. Having an idea of how the book should flow would be a big help to me. As I am sure many other writers, amateur or otherwise will tell you an outline is a most. I've never really written from a outline expect for when in school. Oh, I'm not suggesting that the book will ever be published but I have to at least consider it, right? I love writing, so it wouldn't' be something that I dread doing. My biggest problem is that right now, I have a lot going on and I don't seem to find the time to sit down and really get much done on the other stories that I'm writing. So that raises the question, what would I drop to write this? I do have a few things on my plate. I don't really want to drop any of my current projects just to pick this one up. Maybe at a different time, I might decide to roll up sleeves and get a little busy with it. One thing about it a book would be one way to out myself huh? Can you imagine what could happen if that book was ever published? My readers might end up knowing more about me then some of the people who are already in my life. Everyone who read the book would know I'm gay. I couldn't just leave that out. Being gay isn't the really a part of the drama in my life, but it does add some frustrations to my life. Being partially stuck between the closet and the world does give me a pinch of sadness and frustration. I have no clue where this paragraph is headed so I'm going to close it right here. Bye for now!

Never Going Back

Okay readers this is a brand new short story, let me know what you think of it:

I sit upon this hill where I can see the lights of the house that I use to live in. As tears glide down my face, I remember that day like it was yesterday. I had walked in from school and I could hear my mom sobbing in my room. In her right hand she was holding my journal. Tears rained down on the pages of my journal creating blotches amongst the words. I stood there...I stood there, I just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I tried to give a hug but was rejected and then she looked and she said "Is it true, are you a faggot? Who did this to you?". My heart died when I heard her use the "f" word. What did she think, I would say. Then the door opened downstairs, and I knew my dad was home. She pulled a page out of my journal and went downstairs. Tears were streaming down my face and I knew this wouldn't end well.

I hoped dad would be more forgiving, but I could hear the anger and disappointment in each footstep. I clenched my pillow in my fist to cover me from his gaze. He appeared in my doorway and the only thing he said was "Get packing!". He dropped three large garbage bags and then he turned and walked out of my door way.

"You'll only need your clothes."

Were the last words he spoke to before he vanished from sight. No "Hello!" or "I love you son." , he simply wanted his gay son out of the house. I just wanted one hug or one smile. Finally my bags were packed. I cried my way down the stairs and was told to take my stuff outside. I watched as mom closed the door behind me and then I heard the door lock. I could them talking on the phone, trying to find some place to throw me so that their minds would be free of guilt.

 

How could they just throw me away? How could they hate their son? I sat there on the front porch for two hours while I waited for any sign of tolerance. Even my neighbors turned their backs, mom or dad must have called them. A black car pulled up in front of the house. I heard the door unlock and the door opened. Dad stood in the doorway and simply said "Go!" in a stern angry voice. I got up and started heading towards the car, and then I turned back hoping maybe dad would change his mind. He turned closed the door and assume he locked it behind himself. When I opened the door to the car, I was shocked to find my sixth grade teacher behind the wheel. I was now weeping out of control. He smiled as he looked back at me. "Do you want to come up front with me?" I didn't say a thing.

 

I'm only thirteen and I have no parents and no home. The only things I have are my memories, my clothes, and my journal that I managed to sneak out with me. I sat there and thumbed through my journal as he drove. Couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my face. Looking up into the mirror, I could the kind eyes of a guy who had to be in his mid twenties. At some point during our ride, I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew, he was waking me up. He opened up the car door and we stood there looking at his house. He wasn't fancy and not as big as my old house but for now I suppose it's home. "Welcome to your new home! Hey cheer up, you're not alone anymore. Once we were inside, he offered me some supper which I refused. I sat my bags down on the ground and cried myself to sleep. When I woke up, he was sitting in a nearby chair with another guy sitting close to him.

 

My sixth grade teacher told me that he found out about my parents kicking me out through one of my neighbors, so he quickly called my house and arranged to become my new guardian. He also told me that he knew I was gay back when I was in his class just from the way I interacted with everyone. His partner quickly hugged me and told me that he too was kicked out his house. Just knowing that, made me feel safe. For once in my life, I felt whole, I wasn't afraid to let my guard down. I cried myself to sleep for a few more nights but eventually after we were able to get the rest of my stuff from my house, I found myself enjoying my new dads and the veil of sadness lifted. I'm free to be me.

 

The End