First... Silence... Last...

I can almost see you in the door frame,

Peering towards me,

Eyes piercing my soul,

Wondering where had that child gone...

The child that once, wanton with joy,

Slept like a skeleton of the dark ground,

Only awakened by your presence,

Wanton again, red-cheeked again, lively again,

For you were her world, and in that world,

There were no lies, no worries, and no fears,

There was sunshine that came from you and her.

Her innocence was always too much to comprehend,

For she was too a little naughty devil,

With feathers of silver that shone in the blue light of the moon,

When kisses were waiting,

And sighs were held within their chests.

Now you stand there,

Wondering where she'd gone,

For you never knew you loved her,

You held another for years in your heart,

Transparent to her

To whom your heart strings played their songs of passion

While the echoes of those musical notes

Frosted the burning flames of a first love,

Slashed the little walls and arteries

Of a foolish childish heart

That accepted and foresaw

The ringing bells of blissful happiness of two lovers...

She did bury all remains of that first love and that little heart.

Just so you can come back

With those persistent questions and piercing eyes

And haunt her fragile core and stony shield

Fracturing her once more and leaving her stranded

For the seven words she dreamt of

Since she began to comprehend existence and love...

"I love you!"

"Will you marry me?" he whispered.

. . .

Silence was all that either heard.

© A Furious Child

The Reason

Once, I thought love existed,

For in a home of warmth I lived,

In stolen kisses and softness of language,

In affectionate gazes and body language.

I remember once my father

Brushed a kiss on my mother's lips

While I was playing spiritedly on her lap,

I believed then that they loved each other.

A few years passed that fondness,

And I was witness of a horrid moment,

When my father raised an arm of steal

To hit my mother fallen down her feet.

Standing between them I cried,

"Please don't hit her. Daddy, please!"

At that moment, in darkness he turned away,

And out the door, he left us both.

Exploding in tears and sobs, my mother said,

"He never wanted to hurt me, Oh dear child,"

And from that moment on, my heart began to break,

And in love or marriage I never believed again.

When and if people ask me why

Don't I ever wish to marry?

I shall ask them to read

Words written in blood and tears.

© A Furious Child

Creation: Time

In those moments past exhaustion,

When everything becomes so clear

Yet so hazy at the same time,

I create paintings of words and colors,

Of dreams and emotions

Unknown,

Yet in their basic nature known 

To all human kind.

In those moments past morning,

When the world still sleeps,

And quiet silence is the language used,

I create rhymes and poems

Of and about

Moments like these,

When everything lies asleep

In tempting momentary Death,

While I only live

To tell tales of moments I adore.

© A Furious Child

Howl

In the moment of fury, fired up by the intensity of the situation, all she wanted to do was throw herself out of the car and howl painfully in the middle of the road, without a moment’s thought of the passing vehicles or the staring strangers. She simply wanted to let out all of those built up disappointments, mishaps, misunderstandings, all the cuts and bruises. She felt all that pain deep within her soul it scarred her. She became unable to laugh, unable to cry, unable to even really and earnestly care for anything. Everything became temporary to her; happiness, sadness, peacefulness, joyfulness, or even thoughtfulness. She became unable to fully live any period of her passing life for the mere reason that she always thought that it will not last. She became the dullest person she least expected herself to be. Hatred became her only companion, for none of the other forms of emotions could so determinedly reside within her mind. She simply hated herself most of all for becoming the person she is now. 

© A Furious Child

A Credit to Me

I may not be pretty in the usual sense of beauty, I may not be smart in comparison to the genius, I cannot be the most delicate, or sociable, or poetic of all beings, but I know (and so do others) that I'm intelligent, creative, artistic, emotional, successful, hardworking, helpful, determined (and strong-headed at times), passionate, and accommodating (when I wish to be). I implore you; do not take my kindness and respectfulness for granted, for as I hand such a privilege to you, I can easily take it back whenever I feel like it.

I have given the people around me (namely, my family) too much for a normal human being could and would give. Still, they are never satisfied, always criticizing, always reproaching. And silly me, I strive to change myself to be whatever that want. Ironically, what they want would and will change in a matter of weeks (in some cases, days!), and on turns the wheel of their wants and needs! They want everything to go as they wish, never-minding whom they use to achieve that. 

Therefore, I have made up my mind to stop being so damned accommodating, I no longer care what they want, who they need, or how or why! I will live my life as I see fit! I will be the person I was meant to be as I was designed by God! They are not my Creator! They are not my Maker! They are not the Planner! They are nothing. I shall become the naturally unique individual I always was before their wants and don't-wants changed me. I will strive to become a better human being, caring, loving, and happy.

© A Furious Child