raldyfox

Latest Posts by raldyfox

The promise of repetition

Is a weak peace of mind,

Dangling like the balance

Of rickshaws,

Shared one and two-ways

Derailing thoughts

To the station tracks for long

And then, and then

…

.

The promise of repitition

Is of no reprieve from

Moans of limbs

As you hung on the mountain, the

Little helper a rope on your waist

And with the stopper

Called friend,

A human;

A dog;

A cat;

A plant;

A memory;

A sentiment;

A friend;

.

…A person.

.

Repitition is of a phase—

Should be a phase,

For staying in limbo

Bears lightness

No person could take

Without risking all

For the sake of

Finding

A peace.

A Lullaby

Thank you. For the bottom of their heart, for existing.

.

But they do not say, for their tongue feels the weight of a star. A very whimsical, forgetful star. Such a thing it is they cannot catch it for longer than a second, and can only feel the sensation before it burns where they are cradled and goes far, far away.

Spaghetti

<•>

I remember being of full, of it being

Sweet but not too much as it

Bursts nicely

In my mouth;

The long noodles of tomato

Sauce and

Meatballs,

Creamy cheese melted

And I’d eat, eat, eat,

Like I’m chugging something

Addictive

My lips was covered; red

And messy—

And I’d remembered being

Full that It’d ask “Spaghetti”

For my Birthday,

Ten years later after that

Memory

Believe in Me

I told them:

.

I had believed I was a messenger of

Heaven;

I still believed I see

Devils on my mirror;

I can believed that my

Beliefs hold me, and I speak beyond my blood

And colour—an organ, carrying my identity with it, pumping my life and no

More than it that.

.

I was made of flesh, born, and see the basin carrying water

To be baptist as newborn under the cross,

Under the view of my

Religion. I assumed, it was

Like many others I witnessed as young kin

Of church.

.

And older, a day, a month, a year, in another country later:

Icy-veins I felt from the fingers to my arms, to my toes, frozing in untangilabe scare, alone

In my dark, dark room.

I was 12, weeping and thought:

I wished my hesrt to resist, let it be stone

So I would not cry, to simmer my anger out

Why not!?

.

It rejects

I reject it:

And heart pounded, my tears

Crinkling from my eyes, hanging off my eyelids

Down, down, to the floor

To my

homely

floor.

My throat chokes

I cannot keep it still.

.

My mind reeled to a story of a memory

I hoped to think I truly do hold dear: My silly mistakes, my promises,

My lies,

My childhood: I was living

Off the floor, a computer and I was

Everywhere, nowhere, but grounded

In my little corner of the

Room.

.

Don’t let me forget you, child.

.

Forget to pray, to beg, to be arrogant,

Be nothing but the silence you permeates

Around you.

.

Don’t forget this lesson, child

You born under the cross,

Once aquianted with the church every Sunday

At mass

And now you see yourself not

A follower

But a lover of arts

And a hyprocite of your religion,

Learning alongside them

And you see it, oh yes,

So close and you are there;

So far and you are the only one here.

.

Be still my beating heart.

.

It asks, “What are you, if nothing

But a walking dead?”

.

I believed to be an animal, a person,

Speaking, recognizing, engaging,

Walking on two feet.

.

It asks again, “Are you true?”

.

Again, I told them:

.

I believed because the rest of me

Can cry,

Can twinkle my toes,

Can laugh,

Can hate,

And love.

I can move and heart,

My dear heart, the holder of my being: “You are alive.

And I am alive.”

.

I can think, therefore I am here. I am living as you,

and

you as me.

Villia Pangarap

Stores a-plenty, Blanket roofs

Sun-dried thugs, Long street—

To slide under a rainfall

Dear you,

.

Recognizing

Despair;

Depression;

Disappointment;

Dispassionate;

Determination;

Anger;

Happiness;

Love.

.

—To whom I put down these words

When described,

Could you

Tell me

The weight of the history

Each—no, all

Nouns that had 

been 

made(and continuing) expresses?

.

For I don’t know.

Yet I’m

Adamant in sharing

These

Common, large words, as

.

Addictive in my high

Of labelling, the power

I feel when I simply call

Them out, as

Using for my advocation, when reading

When writing, when recognizing, finally,

What am I truly saying.

.

I ask you, I beg of you

What is the weight of my words?

To them. To you.

.

.

Sincerely yours,

A surrogate child of your language

Describing Sweet Nothings

True to it

She was a form.

Subtle, gentle, and merely

A smooth, teasing

Motion.

.

She was beautiful,

For I see her

Eyes smilling in crescents

Or her nails were more deeper than

Her skin.

.

Juxtaposition to her tone

Her words clothed

In Red, pink, purple—a rainbow,

Colouring my thoughts

With its slow poison.

Opinion of A Belief

Series of thin coils.

Bit and bit, a pull whilst in peace

In months, days, minutes,

Seconds

The line is never-stopping.

.

Fingertips are humming

My mind wandering,

My feet are planted

And my heart

Murks

And sinks.

.

To cringe

Infer from the scene

Of the tone

Red and blue, mixing purples and

Shades.

Nerves of my wrist,

My calves,

Screaming like

My veins

.

Thin, bit and bit, I pulled.

Wisps of the thread disappears

behind.

I see the dust

Ever-constant,

As the bubbles of rage

On my throat.

.

My fingertips still burn.

Keep going

For my position

And my

person

Ever-moving.

Muffled

On a wall so paper thin it’s visible, I see

Clobber sounds I imagine comes when people walk, their footsteps heavy or soft depending on the pits of rain,

Trees fluttering, the sounds of crackles coming in faint rumbles,

Like the grass beneath but perhaps the feeling or warmth and softness is more apparent than whatever things I hear from it.

.

The sound-out groans, it moans in whistles,

Reminding me that things I described are things

I cannot hear behind where I am.

.

Yet I can imagine the echos the wind makes

When people walk, the thud and clobber the sounds of their shoes would make

The pitter-patter of rain, distinct

Sound of the sharp stream a car going past, motors screeching I fell more in

Curses rather than calm.

.

On a wall so paper-thin it’s visible, I hear and

Think, pictures aboard,

The muffled sounds of what a wind would speak

Power

”How the mighty hath fallen.”

I said this to the man.

His body was adorned with gems

It looked pure alone, but under his they are lower than dirt.

.

Before me was the lord of the fief

Once I had idolized him

But that was before he robbed me of my family

And my feelings as a human being.

.

I thought that power could save me

So I picked up his post

Terrorizing the land

Orders and whip lashes

And finally, I gained what I need.

But now

Decades had passed

Jewellery clothed me

Maidens had been ravaged by me

The citizens’ smiles were sweet

Life is good

Yet my heart didn’t agree, laying only still.

.

Suddenly my vision became red

Voices came, but only from my mouth

It wasn’t words, it wasn’t pleads of beg or help—

but indescribable yelps.

.

Then I was laid on a wooden platform

A thin long metal loomed over me.

I looked at the people

Their faces still wore the same mask

.

Smiling but yet laced with contempt

And revenge.

.

I tilted up my head, my eyes following, as far as I can go.

.

I realized

Even with the behaviour they showed

And jeers whenever they opened their lips

I had felt nothing.

.

As if, ever since, nothing had changed.

.

”Oh how the mighty hath fallen.”

Then I felt myself disconnect.

A Sip

Licking wounds

from the already

faded but still

reddened cheeks.

It‘s the eyes,

the twitch

of the

brows to the

muscles of the

mouth—

.

I can see it talk.

I can hear it speak.

I can feel many thoughts.

but maybe it

wasn’t.

.

A past is backward.

Did you ever took

a step forward?

I am Me

I am a contradicting, careless traveler

I wonder if I could ever relate to all living things

I hear tumbles and rumbles that makes me act on impulse

I see colours blending, shaping my world

I want to share my view of universe with my hands

Letting them see the diversity it has

I am a contradicting, careless traveller

I pretend to be predictable but in truth

I want to feel unpredictable

I touch my consciousness and see my deeper self

Worrying if my words are permanent or fake

I cry my confusion and regrets away to see my present reality

I am a contradicting, careless traveller

I understand that everything is connected

I say the world’s end is the beginning of life

I dream flickering images of my future

I try to see it all

And hope to grow

I am a contradicting, careless traveller

Change of Pace

Prompt: Individual desire to overcome obstacles

She had always enjoyed the sound of heartbeats. Badum, badum, beating for reasons that are sometimes exciting, sensible, and overall incomprehensible. She never touched a person to try though, not even towards the people that birthed her, maybe once before she knew how to stand up and talk as a ‘small little one,’ but those memories were far too gone in the past for her to go to even reminisce about it.

The splashes of the pitter-patter rain on her feet tickled her senses, instinctively curling herself up as if in an attempt to mooch as much warmth as she could.

“Are you alright?” A voice said. Blinking at the lack of weight of rain drops, curiously, she found herself looking up, wondering at what had happened.

Above her was a transparent dome-like object, held up with a pole connecting in the middle. How odd, she thought, her eyes looking to the person holding the dome-thing up next. A man, wearing a suit, kneeling in front of where she sat. “Do you want to come with me? The rain won’t be stopping anytime soon.” His words tumbled naturally and kindly she was nodding before she realized, thinking of thick blankets under her made her heart flutter, warming her belly, letting herself be picked up without question.

Once there, with the door closed she was put on a couch, the man going off to “get something, make yourself at home.” Shifting her position to be more comfortable, she waited, her eyes wandering from picture to picture hanging on the wall, hearing the sound of footsteps still far away.

One was a dog, the sun rays lighting him on the side as he caught a circle-like thing on the air. She can see the light in the dog’s eyes, the enjoyment so transparent it made her smile. Next was a hand--not like the man though, it looked thinner and paler--adorned in coloured shiny rocks. Not like the first one the picture was more stoic, maybe made to be pretty but nothing more underlying than that. But the last one took her attention, so much that she vaguely registered the blanket she had been looking forward to and the man calling her out.

“Oh, That one? I took that before, before a thing.” Realizing that he was talking about the picture, she turned and listened, seeing the man curling his lips as if hiding his amusement. The picture was the silhouette of a large ladder, holding two people up. One of them that was above looked curled up, as if fearing for his life. Another below the first one seemed eager to go up. She hummed, her heart whirling in wonder and she felt that she’s not the only one if the smile on the man was saying something.

“I was in a city, on a break from work, and one of the communities were working on making the largest pole to exist and to climb--almost like a leap of faith, though your mind and body is your faith to climb rather than just your feet to jump,” he continued, almost finished in rubbing her body dry and sitting himself beside her. “Some people were attempting and I volunteered to take a picture to advertise it for free. That picture didn’t make it since that wasn’t what they were looking for but I kept it and put it up. Though I’m not sure why I did it exactly.”

Instead of feeling her curiosity quenched, it peaked, silently but brimming with questions as she looked straight to his eyes. The stare continued for moments before he hesitantly looked away, pausing to the picture. “Leap of faith, huh…” he murmured under his breath, but she can hear it though she went closer, under his shoulders to his lap. That earned his attention, but instead of the soft expression he would show her his look was flat--his mouth slackened too low and his shoulders hunched too much especially for his tall height.

She waited, the beating in her heart wavered but she resisted. For some reason, she has to know. If ever does she have a reason besides a feeling, it was the face of the man that helped her that made her think that she, too, could repay the gratitude by this. Finally, maybe he saw her conviction or another reason altogether he spoked. “I’m the type of person that doesn’t enjoy changes much, because of that it was difficult to keep up at times. I tried to get used to it, what I got was a job from my first internship at a company. It lasted me until months later.”

“I.. noticed that the employers and the work were more harsh starting last year. I didn’t know why so I continued on my work, ignoring the elephant in the room and went on my way. It was good since some of my jobs required travelling to different places all over the country so I was spared for the most part. One of the younger employees tried to find out why though, and maybe he was so close that--that I didn’t see him the next day when he was called by the higher-ups. We knew him and what he was doing so the mood became worse.”

“I thought, ‘Wow, what a leap of faith guy.’ I’m not sure why, even now, but after I took a picture of that thing I felt invincible, doing the same thing that guy did afterwards and got myself fired. But this time I spread some gossip before I went out and slammed the door.” Suddenly, he chuckled, ruffling her hair. “It’s been a while since that happened so I forgot it in favour of bills and stress. Just a secret between us though, I still hope that the company will change or be bankrupt.”

The beating became more audible, drowned under another beat--stronger and firmer badum, badum--that she cuddled on his chest to hear it more. “Aren’t you cute, you little guy--or girl I’m not sure.” He paused, as if contemplating something. “How about I call you Pace? Ace? You like that better than Pace?”

He smiled, his face lighting up like the dog in the first picture that she can’t help but go along. “Then Ace,” he concluded.

The pelting rain out wasn't lighting up, her ears could confirm it even if the curtains covered the window. But unlike when she would curl up be herself to scavenge whatever comfort she could have despite the flimsy roof before, she curled to the man her mind drowsy that she didn’t quite catch his soft words before she slept.

“Who knew a change of pace could make me remember that I didn’t mind change more than I thought.”

Pen

Smooth Scratches, thin point

One to four, Black to rainbows

My, what a fine pen!

Humanity

<•>

One day a void was struck, turning limitless blue—

Then land began to pile above

Dots started to appear, both in the air, the ground, and the sea, moving and alive Dots turned bigger, shifting into the tallest, the smallest, or between.

Ecosystem began.

But even with that, all things must come to an end.

Take an example, the dinosaur age. When they were the loudest to roar, the king of all, they were weak—

Atleast, to mother nature that is.

Mountains began to move and the lushes of fields disconnect—

And then they were gone, we came about, taking the crown of the king in our heads. So it made me think; isn’t this the circle of life?

You live, you die, that’s what I mean.

Sometimes you might get remembered if people like your work, sometimes you’re just one of the many without a name or have a part of a legacy.

Even then we’ll be someday extinct.

I mean something similar happened before right? The bronze age and such?

But still we continue to muse, we continue to invent, innovating as much as we could get from both in and out. Heck even space came about!

Why?

It’s because of faith. We believe and blindly persist even with the answer we have and I say this;

Why not just continue? Even with the knife on our neck?

I mean we lived for more than ten thousand years, molding the simple phrase Live then die to the complicated There’s more than meets the eye.

I mean what’s there to lose? Live, live without a linger to regret!

Domeville

She thought magic was a phony.

That is until she’s at the mercy of humanoid creatures with stitched body parts that belongs to creatures-not-human, crowding around her with curious gazes. Her skin prickled from the contact. She took a shallow breath as more gathered around her.

Black spots began to cover her sight. She felt a drop in her stomach.

Space I need space! She breathed again, more venomously— “Stop..” no one heard her though. Her throat tighten, “Stop! Please!” That gave some of them a reaction. One of them screeched. They flinched.

Everyone, including her, followed the sound. A black robe with a glowing pumpkin as a head, soundlessly looking at her as he spoke, “—“

She didn’t understand but neither did she care. She looked at it with pleading eyes. It nodded and continued speaking at the creatures. With unusual obedience they took a step back.

She took a mouthful of air, her throat dry. Her tense shoulders relaxed. Looking at the robe man she mouthed a reply before her eyes fluttered shut, “Thank you.”

She only heard faint murmures after that.

“It will take you when Domeville was the greatest clowns of halloween.”

She didn’t think her aunt was telling the truth.

Her eyes wandered at the time. It’s midnight. Standing at the clock she got as a present she waited.

Nothing happened.

With a low heart she went to bed, not noticing the rapidly ticking clock.

She looks at her surroundings, her eyes sharp. Wooden walls, old chimney, closed curtains, and sturdy mattress. The door only handful of feet apart.

Where am I?

A low tone interrupted her thoughts. “Did you forget?” She swirved her head to the sound, founding the robed man. “..No.” I didn’t hear him. He must’ve seen something from her face as he chuckles, “I have no feet.”

How did he—she looked at the ground where the robed man’s feet was supposed to be. Her heart faltered. There’s none.

This man’s dangerous.

“See?” He said.

“...”

“Not much of talker are you?”

She didn’t respond. The robed man sighed, gliding to the door, “Come here—It’s not anything bad,” He added quickly as she took a stance. “I just wanna show you something. You might like it.”

A paused before she followed, her body still cautious. We’ll see.

The door opens, momentarily mesmerizing her.

“Wha—“

Orange colored lights all over the village streets, the night empathizing it more, with simple pastries cluttering the tables, and animated humanoid creatures with excited looks. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted ghouls and spirits joining the fun.

Beside her, the pumpkin man turned to her as his eyes glowed, “Welcome Katy, to DomeVille Halloween!”

Fangs

The heat sizzles as the sun goes on the afternoon. Clouds absent, showing clear blues.

At the school’s roof stood a person no more older than 15, with white stained shirt accompanying blue shorts covering his knees. Along with an unhealthy shade of skin, his glassy grey eyes gaze towards the students working with their activities in a daze.

Clutching the green fence tight. Eyes covered. He bit his lip.

Do IT.

He clutched his head.

TheY deSeRvE IT.

He screeched. Not a sound a came out.

The voices kept booming in his mind, distracting him from the slam of the door.

He didn’t notice footsteps were approaching.

He didn’t notice they were holding a knife.

He didn’t notice the crazed glimmer directed at him.

He only notice a chuckle before his sight turned crimson red.

“Die.”

••••••••••

Knife clattered on the stone floor.

He gulped. The blood tasted sweet. It fits his taste.

He look at his once white shirt now bloodstained. Clicking his tongue, he muttered under his breath;

“How inconvenient.”

••••••••••

Question.

Is he human?

Be With Me

Inspired by, Yandere Simulator.

••••••••••

As the sun took a peek, it's rays shine down upon the busy roads. A young man with short chestnut hair, with school uniform on was seen as one of the crowds.

Many people bypass him, walking and bumping along without even a mutter of an apology (Not like he can say anything, after all, he's the same). As he goes with the flow to his destination, a shiver went up his spine.

He turns slightly, found nothing out place. He waited for a bit. Then faces back to the front, continuing at a faster pace when he took a peek on his phone(?).

He goes faster.

His heart pounded, eyes dilating as he now took a full blown sprint….

…. Only stopping when he reach the gate for the train station.

He went inside, and took a seat. He felt his ears ringing, feeling more tired than ever. He should've exercised more.

As he started to think more calmly, he felt like he forgot something.

His lunch? He checked, It was here.

His books? Same thing.

His phone? Yup, safe in his body.

What did he forgot?

As he feel in deep thought, he kept glancing around the area. He caught something at his sight.

A minute left, until his train arrived.

… He'll think about it in the train.

As he stands up, he goes close to the yellow line with an appropriate distance.

A phone buzzed on his pocket. He raised a brow. Since, when did they text him at this time of day.

He took it out, and found a message. From an unknown number.

“....?”

He checks the message.

.. Oh?

He clicks down.

Oh!

A few seconds passed as he keeps clicking down.

.. H-huh?

His breath hitched. His grip loosen suddenly. As his phone tumbles down, his colour turned white.

He went to the back, following the letter's words. It says to wait here. Honestly, he didn't want to, but the push and nitpicking from his friends we're getting on his nerves. And they promised to make it worse than it is, if he didn't go.

No choice but to do it, he went. But, he didn't expect a confession.

A love confession at that.

His brain short circuited after, he didn't remember the rest.

He only snap out of it when he heard the announcer of the train. He turns--

--and suddenly felt himself flying. With a person hugging him.

Ah.. now he remembered. He rejected them and took off.

Guess this is -------

All he remember seeing then was a red line speeding down to him, until his sight turned dark.

••••••••••

Question.

Who hugged him?

How Unfortunate

As the man gazes his sight above, he reminisces the sky with It's shades of blues turning dark.

A sigh escapes his lips as he continue forward at a leisure pace, nor fast or slow.

His eyes goes downwards showing eyes from sleepless nights. His back hunched, and the suit hooked on his arm slightly kisses the ground.

He murmured under his breath, you can faintly hear complaints after complaints aimed to possibly the culprit of his disheveled appearance.

Finally finishing his gibberish he turns his head casually, noticing that he's the only one causing the sounds of footsteps.

It registers, he paused at his tracks, but move again as if that stop was just a flick of imagination. His exterior is as usual, tired and impassive, but the same can't be said to the man’s eyes darting frantically on every directions.

The street’s quietness and the man’s state gave a delicate air, that a gentle breeze and a lamps flicker can even make the already anxious (though not obvious) man, show more outside.

Step..

Step.

Step..

His body twitches, pace goes fast to slow constantly. Finally as if the man decided something he closed his eyes, opens them again. Calmer pupils showed and the steps were more close to the original.

The aura became more lazy, less strained. Almost covering from his previous actions.

Almost.

A hooded entity enters, walking oppositely to where it came from. Only the build gave away the entity's gender, a male. He wore a long leathery coat, every outfit were only colored black. His face, or rather his eyes were covered by his hat, shaded just like the rest. It's a wonder how he hasn't even broken a sweat from the warm night.

The man froze, sensing the ominous presence. His breath hitched, eyes widen as he secretly took a glance of the hooded person. His head goes down unnaturally, not even resuming the walk, and reluctant to even take a slide step.

Step..

Step..

Step..

Cold sweat began to form, his breath circulates like heartbeats. Sweat dripping from the forehead to the man's jaws at a fast rate.

The man's eyes were covered by his hair, his hand clutches where the heart is, perhaps an attempt to calm his state.

The hooded man didn't batted an eyelid, walking casually as if a man breaking down was of a normal occurrence.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The man did everything, from trying to raise his head and foot, to coughing out a noise. anything to snap out of his state, his body ignored his commands.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The hooded person was nearing, closer and closer by inch to inch.

The man stopped his attempts, maybe giving up.

Step..

Step..

Step..

The hooded man was now there, side by side with the man and stopped.

He leaned close to the man's face, closing in to his ears.

He spoke at a low pitch, but it was as clear. He whispered;

“My condolences.“

The man's shoulders turned rigid and tensed.

The hooded man left, his steps were more quieter.

A moment passed, he let out a breath, barely acknowledging that he was holding one. The man's legs wiggled. He used the wall right next to him and propped himself with his side, struggling to keep himself steady.

He breathed, in and out continuously.

He spoke under his breath, none of the words were understandable. His eyes morphed slowly, the already open wide turned impossibly big. He turns--

A crack echoed on the street.

The man's body limped, falling like a ragdoll. Bones cracking were heard, loud and clear.

Red liquid came out, oozing smells like coppers.

No one noticed until the next day.

••••••••••

Question.

How did the man died? Why was no one there?

Hint: Superpowers exist.