as is everything

"as is everything"
slowly sliding over the ground
a low cold fog creeps in
draping everything inside a milky haze.
the day seems to have moved on
leaving behind all that ever was in this mist.
     moments and seconds long since forgotten
          left to be remembered,   
as is everything in the end.

lost in the monotony of it all-
these smoldering remains
wait to be painted over top
this ghostly haze
that has moved in
forming memories of dreary designs.

a life once lived,
     now only
a withering memory,
clinging
to
a
moment
hoping perhaps,
all this
since then,
was a dream.
     As is everything in the end.
-Armando Torres

snowflake splendor

"snowflake splendor"
Sitting inside with windows closed
     as it snows outside.

the cool breath of winter
     hits the edges of the window pane,
and there
          beyond the glass
               the soft fog forms.

Somewhere in this December white
     silence sits
shedding tears for something so far away.
Alone feels so alone this time of year
          and the pain so painful.

the sky slowly falls
     settling softly on the icy sidewalks
          blending all of it together.

Crystals of infinite shapes
     reach and stretch
          from the edges
of the window
               as the somber white
          paints
a December winter not worth remembering.

A ghostly visage of silvery seconds spent
hidden somewhere behind these flakes of snow
hiding the dying light.

Looking out once more
from behind the glass
I finally shed the tears of snowflake splendor
     

     and I am left to watch 

fall all the snow.
-Armando Torres

Attrition

"Attrition"
If I could
I would
but I can't
so I won't
so I'm not.
  but I should.
-Armando Torres

The moon

"The moon"
I knew in that moment
breathing in the hot night air
looking up out the window,
she was looking at the same moon
that night
     just like I was.
Perhaps, holding back the tears
better than I was.
I found our sorrow
in that moon
that night
and I cried.
Moments like that never go away.
-Armando Torres

sense of time

"sense of time"
I stay frozen
     in a single position
losing all sense of time.
barely moving
or even wanting to.
the world just blurs from view
as I sit here like stone.  unmoving.  just staring.
seeing only memories
that fall away so easily
at any thought.

my mind jumping through every regret,
every happy moment that was,
all those moments feeling real
but are only a hazy dream now
that swirl away and hide
in darkness
at the mere touch of reality,

i barely even have
the motivation to move my eyes anymore,

only existing here now
as a point for these memories
of depressive reminiscence,
all this fake weight of my mind
made as real as a mountain,
paralyzing my ability to learn,
killing me with every moment
as I sit and stare and
lose all sense of time.
-Armando Torres

now...?

"now...?"
The city
with all its history
brings all these memories of mine
that count for almost nothing,
if not
for these seemingly endless moments of the present
that add relevance to these same seconds
that may have already existed eons ago.

The streets with all these lights
and alleyways
that turn and curve and stretch away
in every direction,
hide almost ghost like moments
on their concrete corners.
Moments...
that exist now
purely for the purpose of being remembered.

The sway and flow of people and sounds
on these corners
moves through
and around
these delicate hints of a bygone time.

As the glow of the lights drape and hang
from these buildings,
time seems to drizzle away
letting slip through glimpses of memory
like rain sliding down a window
-Armando Torres

for always

"for always"
My head hangs heavy
toward the ground,

The sounds and colors
of the world
melt away,
          and my mind
     exists now
     purely on the periphery
     of where
     reality and time
     split,

I don't notice the soft breeze
swirling through the trees
or
the leaves of every shade
of orange and brown
dancing
and
jumping
at my feet,

I see only memory
as the here and now
as it slides past me,
leaving me
with these hollow thoughts,

where is it I exist
if not here...
Now,
on this bench,
waiting,

where is it
they've all gone
since the last time,

     I don't remember anymore,

I look up now
and
see the world has changed,
so much,

I do know
they've all
been gone for some time,

I wait however,
like always,
as the seasons change again,

Reminisce again
when they used to come visit,

The world has moved on from me
                        and I wait as a relic of a bygone time,

where is it
that I exist
If
                         they've left for always,

the world finally fades
and
I feel the uneasy peace
                         Of being forgotten to time.
-Armando Torres

Happy Birthday Corina

Perhaps...

"Perhaps..."
Perhaps its the gray
this time of year brings,

or
perhaps,
the way the wind
slides by my face
that I ponder the idea.

Memory seems to fade now
from the edges
and every so often
slips out
on the whispers of my breath

and yet,

I still see you in every moment.

However,
not as a relic of antiquity
of a life
once lived through,

nor
as a thing that once was

or
as something that
was once,

but rather
as a movement of now.

The memory is an illusion of the present.

Reality slowly swirls
and curves
and forms
before me
through this very moment
painting a picture
of all
that ever was,

It slowly swirls
and curves
and fades away
as it passes through
this point of existence
as if never existing at all,

Disappearing in the infinite wake of time,

only now
through this very moment
of every moment
can I remember you
for always
and find you,

because this life lingering
is but a memory,

of fleeting moments of now,

and death the realization
that now was the only moment that ever mattered.
-Armando Torres

Happy Birthday Corina

...still

"...still"
I can't believe I still miss you,
every now and again
when
the sun touches my face
and the wind
slides by
just the right way,
I feel your memory again.
-Armando Torres

untitled

"untitled"
perhaps its the time its been
that I feel this way.

Over a year from those pivotal moments
that left their stains on my soul in deep sapphire and violet,
and now however
I feel free from those chains and have finally moved on
to rediscover who I was
before the spiral of depression
that changed me and destroyed what we once were,

perhaps the regrets too will subside in time
or maybe they never will
but I know now
with a clear mind
who I was once
when our first moments took hold,

happiness again like then and smiling
even when some regrets still linger,

perhaps its the time.
-Armando Torres

Another night

"Another night"
Another night of beer,
of sitting here
away from myself, trying to pull relevance from
my day,
trying to find the guts to love,
to
go
on,
to talk
about that one time,
to linger at the edge of my glass
and to hide
behind this pint
to order another
and drink it fast
before I realize these stories of mine
are wearing thin,
I've gone and had too much again,
now I'm here by myself and one quick look
into the bathroom mirror and its all gone, its that sour smell again,
It's been another night,
and I find
I've gone and wasted another day.
-Armando Torres

There was a Time

"There was a Time"
I look down
and the ground disappears,
everything becomes a blur of color and sound
purely on the periphery of where my mind exists,
it's here
where I usually see you again,
as a thought,
an essence,
a boundless idea floating among the nostalgic waves of memory.

It's a late day in June
among the swaying trees,
the sting of the heat has softened
and the cool hues of every shade of blue and violet
have spread up and over the horizon,
the rhythmic pull of the ocean
pushes the glittering embers
of yellow and white over the surface of the water
toward the shores
disappearing in a flicker
against the sandy rocks.

There was a time
where I could see none of this,
A time
where your echoes
would be the only thing,
but now the ground fades to blur
and I find the softness of a cool summer breeze
brings me a smile.
-Armando Torres

Presence

"Presence"
There
     in the darkness
sits a shadow,

     a ghostly relic
          refusing to be forgotten,
it waits patiently
as the night hours
fall upon me,

It relishes on all
my
     sweetest kinds of miseries,

pressing its long pointy finger
     against my head
          it pulls out
all my many fears,

horror fills my face
and its toothy grin grows,

getting what it wants
     it crawls
          backward
     from whence it came
          and waits patiently
once again
     for another delicious drip
of this anguish,

exhausted
my terror turns to despair
and I quickly rest my eyes again,
falling back
into the dark void once more
where again it fills
     with my many agonies,

It
     knows this as well
and again
from the corner
I can hear the anticipation
in the giddy clicking of its toothy grin.
-Armando Torres

you were

"you were"
you were all the things
I thought
a person
could be to me,
you were at one time
the love of my life,
the piece of me
I never knew
was missing
until I found you,
I still catch glimpses
of our past,
those moments in the morning
we spent in bed
whispering
because our lips were so close
we could touch each other's,
all those lovely nights
spent on the couch
watching movies,
laughing together
learning life at the same time together,
you were to me
what I believed
every choice
I had ever made
was meant for,
I loved you,
we were happy
but that all changed
and you were no longer,
we were worth saving
but you saw me
as worth leaving,
I still miss you
but
you were as well,
you were.
-Armando Torres

empty moments

"empty moments"
there's a somberness that exists in the dark now,
an emptiness
that lingers on the shores of silence,
a gentle swaying of
melancholy
and
contemplation,
my mind
dangles doom
in these empty thoughts
as the slithery seconds
of every moment
slide over my skin
leaving me
no peace
in the blackness
behind my eyelids,
only
the swirling formless colors
that wash over
from the edges
in watery waves
and
as memory fades
I won't understand
this hole
I have
or
know when the pain
first came,
leaving only
solitude in the end,
its sad
to think
I'll never love you again
even when
I can barely remember you.
-Armando Torres

a hint of winter

"a hint of winter"
a cold gray
     lingers
          at the edges
     of everywhere I look,
a hint of winter
     hangs on the air,
bringing with it
     a crisp freshness
that courses through my lungs,

as my eyes close
the cool air
     floats by and
my thoughts find you
     again
as you swirl and form
     from the endless waves
          of blacks and grays
               in my mind
and I see you,
     only for a moment
before I open my eyes
     again
and forget
     again
what your face looked like,

a life once lived
     now gone
to the infinite dark of time,

I see winter creeping in from the North,
     there's a hint of memory
on the cool air,
          reminiscent flashes
of you
          I so long to believe
were true
     however
I never know now,
     only remember
just enough
     to feel the desolate pull
of what once was
     at the mercy of the wind
hoping for another glimpse.
-Armando Torres

Empty Spaces

"Empty Spaces"
I still see you in every moment,
     in empty spaces
          overlaid as memory,
all that remains are
     walls full of empty spots,

empty corners and doors,
          just echos of a past no longer,
there was a lifetime worth of things
     not said
     between us,

our purpose that once meant so much
     no longer means much
     of anything now,
          except as a ghostly relic of antiquity,
     just thoughts
     separated by time,
               a cesspool of lonesome questions,

I see you there,
     still,
     in front of the mirror
          fixing your hair,
and there on the couch
     leaning into me,
I hear you in my thoughts,
     as whispers
          slithering
     in from the edges of silence
     on the delicate tips of memory,
          bringing with it
               the icy chill of remembrance,
       only I remain now,

I feel solely the essence
     of your memory.
-Armando Torres

the creeping fear

"the creeping fear"
It's there all the time, the creeping fear,
     the hidden horrors deep within my own mind.
It is not the unknown I fear,
but the thoughts that creep in
from the depths of My darkness.

And With every moment I endure,
I exist
     alongside
     the agonizing thoughts
     of my own design.

Slowly sliding
further away.

It is ourselves I have found
we should fear
for we,
on our own
harbor the sweetest kinds of terrors.

And With time
My lies have become the truths
     I so desperately denied,
I shroud them over
this hideousness of my life,
losing the delicate honesty of fear to shadow.

I exist now only,
     as a moment
     folded into infinity,
     forever captured
     beyond the fabric of comprehension
     and only as a reflection of lies,
a moment,
     extending forever inward,
          as I forget
          I too am just
          one of the many reflections,
     multiplying
the miseries of an existence
     that perhaps may not exist at all
     inside a boundless and infinite abyss,
     void of any truths.
Just A relic of horror and antiquity,
     wrapped in nightmares
     and thrown into the fires of agony.
However
     there is an echo that remains,
     beyond perception.
A lie that I fear perhaps says
     I must endure.
A shadow that crawls as it watches, a hidden horror,
     salivating on my very torture,
     whispering the sweetest things from the deepest recesses
          of my mind,
          telling me I Must endure.
A shadow that crawls in from the edges
     bringing with it
     the torments of memory,
          clouding all
          that was
          once me and forging
     a lie of agonizing truths,
     peeling away
     a fabric of reality
I once saw as myself and replacing it with misery.
-Armando Torres

pray

"pray"
Awake again
in the middle of the night
with the soft glow of the television screen
spattered on her face, and nothing more,
She remembers again
as the silent night chill
creeps
into her small apartment again,
her eyes weary and open
are but
another reminder
of her dreary life, nothing more,
she holds on to the cold staleness of memory
only for them to exist as
more regrets
to rewind
over
for another countless time,
she searches for the strength
to keep hoping.
she prays.

Her tired eyes finally find
that slice of sleep she's been waiting for
and a familiar image waits in the darkness,
once more her eyes open,
she can't sleep,
she can only cry again,
she looks over to her tiny bed again
and she remembers
the way she felt
when she held her
in her arms,
the look of her tiny face and her tiny sounds,
her tiny mouth and little hands, her little smile and tiny breaths,
She can't move on
when all her being
is bound
by what happened,
hoping and praying
every night,
She did all she could
with all she had,
she prayed everyday
as she watched
her baby die,
she prayed everyday.
-Armando Torres

My Cosmic Ride

"My Cosmic Ride"
Something plays on the television screen
     but I'm not watching,
Its dull hues
of blue and green
are spat on my walls
     and the gentle daze of night
shrouds my eyes
as I see something else in the empty space
before me,

Somewhere beyond where my eyes
seem
     to linger
exists a memory,
a painted thought,
a sliver of a life remembered
through the brush strokes of melancholy
in glorious shades of black and gray,

I rise
     above the midnight clouds
bathed in moonlight,
forging forward and catching the passing wave
     to ride through the stars,
I hear

dogs howling in the distance
existing now
only through the endless cosmos.

There you are
     in my faintest image,
in the corner of my mind
riding this wave alongside with me,
reaching out with your fingers
over the scattered points of light
     like water,
I smile
     remembering those lovely mornings together
the nights we spent whispering stories to each other,
     all those lovely moments
existing now
     as lonely points of pale light
shining their whole existence into my eyes
     as flickering moments of irrelevance,
droplets of starlight peppering and piercing the deep black
and yet something more falls than just tears,

     It's here I feel the dark again,
the weight of reality
washing over me
and covering my every inch of existence,
     I fall ten million miles and crash back
at my television screen.
nothing is left
but the haunting echoes of my regrets,
nothing now but
     the faintest image of your smile.
-Armando Torres