The Nocturnal Creature

The world was a beautiful haze, a delightful dream almost, until we grew up and nothing was what it seemed like.  It’s like we were a seed planted in a garden that was never ours to begin with and the purpose of our existence was only to fail and for everything end in despair. The world been constructed in a way to fight us every minute, to prove us wrong with its every waking breath.  We aren’t prepared to fight these unending battles and we aren’t protected from the wounds they bestow upon us. They leave us with nightmares and scars so we can never really move on from the pain and suffering.  The whole world conspires against us and we’re expected to make magic out of it but how? How is it that we’re expected to make magic when the world is so devoid of it. Were surrounded by an illusion of happy people in a happy world but don’t be fooled, we’re all fighting our own battles and some of us are better at hiding them than others. The happiest people are the ones that ha...

13rw romanticizes suicide. Before I start with this I feel compelled to say that suicide is never an easy option for anyone to take, the fact that you’ve been pushed to such a point where you believe that it is your only option is hard and even unthinkable to some of us. Now having said that, I would like to commend the directors and the writers of 13rw for making suicide look like a hard decision for someone to make and to deliver such a rock solid script is anything but easy so kudos to y’all. You must have realized by now that I actually feel that the message the TV series 13rw tried to deliver is extremely valid and that my title is basically click bait. There have been a lot of people criticizing the TV series saying that it made suicide seem like a “cool” option for teenagers and that the show had actually encouraged teens to decide to take their lives. Another thing that has been floating around is that the show depicts suicide to be a way to draw attention to yourself. ...

There’s beauty in everything, but the beauty in the rage of fire is something that definitely stands apart from the rest. Lighting fires just to watch the flames swallow up everything was fascinating to me and had always been and I don’t know what that says about me. Ashes are just remains until you know what they were before they were reduced to the ashes that lie there only to be blown away by the wind. There’s also a comfort in the warmth of a cigarette. I never understood how something burning in your hands could make you feel powerful in a way that nothing else could. Forest fires signify the power of this fiery rage and I’m glad we were taught to not play with fire. There’s a notion that fire is always powerful which brings me to think that if it really were so, then why do we feel like a candle flame that is about to burn out?

I remember you as everything but your name. So I called you the wolf, the predator of the dark with a sharp eye that could spot the slightest of vulnerabilities.  The way you sank your teeth into my throat in a way that held me paralyzed so I couldn’t cry for help. You slipped your body into mine, pretending to not notice that I didn’t seem to replicate the actions you forced me into. I still wake up in hot sweats thinking about the way you satisfactorily licked your lips after you had feasted on my insecurities and left me like a limp prey awaiting death. It’s true I didn’t die, but a part of me sure did and as you walked away I wish I were dead.  The body no longer felt like my own, I was trapped in this body where I no longer felt welcome. I was a guest in the only place I had felt welcomed, you made me feel like an outsider in the truest sense. The sky grew overcast with clouds the color of a corpse, and it sucked me in and sure enough I was the storm. I was the eye ...

You  burned all your bridges to paradise, watched it go up in flame, with no way to build them again. But you knew heaven wasn't meant for sinners like you. Your sins so heavy, the earth almost stopped in its tracks. We're are flawed beings only learning what it means to truly exist and what it feels like to heal.

Amidst the chaos we stood strong, united and never before more alive. Our eyes burned brighter than the sun and we could breath smoke to sustain ourselves. We were masters of our own creation and we ruled our desires. We created a world in which I immortalized you in poetry and you painted me in my true colors. It all fell into place, like puzzle pieces who's edges didn't have to be trimmed. We were precise, planned and calculated. Not a math problem but an algorithm which allowed us to make our own rules. It was magic, and your touch, electric. Everything I did was for you, until I realized a lost a part of me along the way that never learned its identity without you. ~ the boy that loved too hard.