lonely road

"lonely road"
Damn that long dark lonely road
for it makes him feel every second of every hour.
And somehow
the moon has found this lonely man
as he speeds through the loneliness
and drips away into the black that surrounds.
Seeing only what the light reveals to him
and following only what is given,
he finds himself lost
down that damn long dark lonely road.
-Armando Torres

I bore witness

"I bore witness"
There on that throne of skin and bone
I dare to look that which I dare to see,
I bare witness and from the darkness
moans a voice "It has come to this,"
And stand where my feet should stay
I look upon that devil as it turns and says to me,
bare witness to this,
And a horrifying beast marched out from darkness
with pain and suffering in follow forged in the fires of misery,
And stand where my feet should stay
I look upon that beast as it snarls and says to me,
bare witness to this,
And a man from shadow comes forth draped in blood and sorrow,
Plagued by the haunting memories of man's thought
he rot as to cry those tears of things not,
There under that hood of blood and pain
I dare to see that which he cried to me,
bare witness to this,
And all those thoughts of mine
were plagued with stains
and I cried those tears of things gone
forever forgetting
I bore witness to this.

I look upon that devil
as I fall further into my own abyss,
forever forgetting
I had caused all this.
-Armando Torres

...looking back

"...looking back"
All that is left is the echo,
the hollow shell of a past life I once followed.
All I have is darkness to drink
and sorrow to wallow in.
Now at my end I am gone, forever losing my view and sight,
forever in time but now nothing is left
but the looming regret
as it echoes continuously
throughout my head.
-Armando Torres

Waiting...

"Waiting..."
He stands there waiting for you ever so carefully , just waiting;
There behind the shadows, back behind the cries of sorrow, just waiting,
Somwhere there right in front but hidden away from the sun,
Waiting for the day to grab the words you say and crumble your world away,
Just waiting there back behind the faces, there where a moment meets time
and a thought meets reality
He stands there waiting for you ever so carefully, just waiting.
-Armando Torres

-Armando Torres

Dear Marie

"Dear Marie,

Oh sweet Marie, I understand now why we couldn't be as I put this pen down to this sheet, its becasue I couldn't realize your sacrifice for me. I don't and won't ever deserve you so goodbye and be good as I try to let you fade as you let fade my 'I love you's'. The whispers of a past we once shared doesn't let me forget so easily and so there you stay in my faintest image. I realize now I postponed your life; realize now I was your lie and you were probably better off without us being You and I; better off without me by your side. But you were the only beauty in these sad eyes and I realize now you were better off. I understand now why we couldn't be, its because I couldn't realize your sacrifice for me. I don't deserve you so now I say I love you and goodbye. I now know I postponed your life and it kills me on the inside to know this was the way. I miss you I do but I have to look past these haunting memories that once brought so much light to my day. I miss you I do but I have to look past, so goodbye and be good. I love you."

empty tears

"empty tears"
There in the dismal glow of the television screen he finds himself crying again not because it hurts but because its there again. He sits silently inside his chair lost inside his own mind as the tv spits its blues and greens onto his face. A bottle of Jack sits by his side as his arm hangs over the armrest and his fingers dangle but a mere space away. The ice in his glass has long since melted but he prefers his whiskey warm anyway when that pain has him so torn. His whiskey stained tears roll down his face as he searches for the logic of this darkness. Remnants of the day no longer linger on his walls but the wear of the night hangs low under his eyes. His lips have not tasted a sweet touch for so long but find the bittersweet company of a warm whiskey bottle every night. The thick smell of tears and whiskey and sweat hang heavy in his room as he sits inside his own stench of bitterness to question his darkness as it knows not of his pain. Drenched in his own depressing filth he grabs that empty glass again and pours his liquid destruction again not because it hurts but because that pain is there again.
-Armando Torres

the divide

"the divide"
Its easier to see in the dark all those things that we find hard, all those things we would want gone but instead are there in those few moments that last for so long. Your eyes are lost waiting for past sweet things to come alive and remind you of a life once better than this.
Then the hardness of black starts to soften and you find your eyes lost again,
the reality of my life in this moment is not divided by the shutting of my eyes but instead is bled together
and somewhere the line between you and I lost its meaning and we became one in the same.
The endless abyss of all those things we missed now exists when I open my eyes and I no longer see the soft blue glow of moonlight, I no longer hear the gentle breaths of wind or feel the soft carress of things seen,
I no longer exist outside this endless darkness because its easier to see in the dark all those things we missed.
-Armando Torres

Those beautiful eyes

"Those beautiful eyes"
The night silence surrounds us both as I hear nothing but my own deep breaths,
My heart jumps as it first feels your hand touch mine and I fight to control your opened thighs,
Somewhere in this soft darkness I feel your breath inch closer to mine as my hand so softly slides up your arm where it finds a comfortable home beside those eyes,
I look upon your face as the moonlight glitters inside your elegant eyes falling even more mesmorized with every moment fueling this arousing passion that I can no longer ignore,
Somewhere in those eyes, your beautiful eyes, I lost all self control and fell more in love with this feeling,
my hand continues to wander as I nibble on your ear whispering sweet nothings for you to hear, I let you feel my delicate brushes of my fingertips around your naval as I fall even more in love with this lust, under your blouse my hand has wandered and I'm too far in love to ever look back to ponder,
all over my body an uncontrollable shiver of desire has overwhelmed my senses and all I want is for our naked bodies to be against one another as we feel the silky sensation of our skin sliding against each other,
I want our lips touching with eyes closed so tight,
I want our breaths deep and long as we slide back and forth,
I want to feel you from the inside, again and again and again with
nothing but our sweat and soft moans for the moment,
I want it all but Im still only here staring into your eyes,
your beautiful eyes.
-Armando Torres

hollowed thoughts

"hollowed thoughts"
I wait in so many ways for this pain to go away but everytime my mind touches them the misery becomes real again. Like when the light slips up over the dark and the veil is stripped away making me see what it is this darkness would have me live with. Why I say for I dont ask anymore, so why I say inside every moment of every day beside the lurking fear of finding it again today. There is no place left inside this hallowed shell of pain, nowhere left to go and nothing left to see but this empty shell of misery. Knowing not within time where other than here holds all I want to know, two places at once, nothing I can do so knowing nothing I lose all I once knew. I know not what you speak of and I dare not know that which I do not understand for there lies at my hands that which I cannot grasp just to haunt me in my face with all that I do not understand.
-Armando Torres

My Inspiration

I don't do regualar posts on this blog but I have gotten a lot of questions asking me where I get my inspiration from to write my pieces. So I decided that I would just dive a little into my thought process so you guys can understand where my writing stems from. Firstly, not all my writing is pulled from personal experiences, its just that I understand personal issues real well and I can strip away everything with an unbiased perspective to the point where these ideas exist just barely enough where most overlook them. What I do is try to get in the right state of mind, I try to ignore distractions but I dont get rid of them because every little sound, image, or touch can evoke a certain feeling or idea that you may have otherwised overlooked.

Once I find that one feeling or idea, I strip everything away from it leaving only the very essence of what makes it real and I try to understand how its real. I look at the very building blocks of an emotion or feeling and I look at it like a stone in my hand. I see it from all angles and see it for what it is. I am now free to add any situation to it, free to fabricate its existence and create the feeling.

Its easy to get lost in an idea and we do it all the time when we daydream. Sometimes I get so lost in a thought, I go blind to the world around me and venture into this fabricated realm that I have created just to fine tune the feelings one would feel in a certain situation, almost to the point of having to live it. And for me, inspiration can come from anywhere, a song, a person, the sound of the wind blowing the leaves outside my window, the clouds looking down on me, the way the grass feelings against the palm of my hands, everything evokes a certain feeling and most ignore those feelings where I try to realize they are there and understand what my mind is feeling when it happens. Its those little things that really build the complicated mess of emotion and thought a person is encompassed of because everything stems from somewhere. You take it back to the most basic of things and you realize the beauty of how intricate an emotion can be and its butterfly effect.

I try to think about the things people are scared to acknowledge or just dont realize that are there. I try to find the things that have fallen in through the cracks that leave only the emotion. I find the feeling behind the emotion. I see the little pieces inside the machine, I see the intricate and complex beauty of a distorted, jumbled mess of thoughts and sort them out. One at a time.

pictures from deviantart

Thick Blanket

"Thick Blanket"
On a lonely quiet summer night I sit in silence waiting for that slice of time. My wandering eyes find their way around the tiny sounds of midnight and ponder. The soft gurgling of the stream grabs hold of my ears and I listen; I listen to the deepest thoughts of where there is nowhere left to go. The night is the thick blanket that accompanies me when my mind is cold, it is the companion to dark thought; the darkest thoughts of night. Waiting for that thin sliver to call my own inside the cesspool of lonesome questions that live inside shadow, I wander about only to find that I exist to cause myself pain and I lose myself again. I lose myself every time the night grows dark.
-Armando Torres

A single solitary tear

"A single solitary tear"
I live with the pain inside everyday of my life and everytime I stare at the ceiling lying awake at night I drift away from everything that is and was and realize the early morning frost forming on my window, staining my eyes with what seems like forever and falling into that single solitary moment where time seems to count for nothing. All I feel is the emptiness before my eyes, the hallowed out memories of a life not worth living and yet the early morning frost forms. The droplets streak down the glass leaving their trail for my eyes to follow, not waiting for the world to notice, just waiting for my eyes to hallow. Everytime the night grows long the pain inside streaks down may face leaving a trail for no one to follow and still the early morning frost forms. The thin crystals of ice await my eyes to find that single solitary moment, existing for that one brief instant to stain my mind as I watch here in this mirror my single solitary tear. To drift away from everything that is and was and realize here in this mirror all my pain poured into this single solitary tear as it holds the truth of how vain it really is. These eyes stare into my soul as my tear rolls downward to the end of its existence, to finallly let go crashing unto the floor to nevermore be a part of my soul.
-Armando Torres

a feeling?

"a feeling?"
Here I am feeling it again, a feeling from so long ago felt for someone whom had no face and died a death only as memory but here it is again, felt again and still waiting. I can feel it creep up again long after what was deemed the end and yet this moment still exists waiting for the right alignment. Still lingering to find a moment cut from time, to exist forever folded upon itself never to let go and to always have that moment. You remembered me before you knew me and I longed for something I never knew was there, you felt the touch of my memory in a brief moment of alignment before we ever met, wandering leisurely with only those moments with no space in between to ever know we were ever together in a tiny slice of time cut away from the rest. In that moment we saw only the best thats why the pain is so real, thats why the pain is so deep, because I can feel it creep up again long after I thought I had left it behind, but I lied, I saw it again somewhere in those eyes, and in the end there to stand alone am I because I saw it again somewhere behind those eyes.
-Armando Torres

Good-bye?

"Good-bye?"
When will that last goodbye escape my lips? Those last words I hope to say and yet here I stand above your grave. I say it everyday and mean it in a moment. I walk away everyday and the remnants of those dead days lingers on my face. When will that last goodbye escape my lips? Like the moment you drift to sleep, never knowing when it happens; you just fall into the darkness in a peaceful tumble, sinking away from reality, resting peacefullly until those dreams remind you. When will that last goodbye escape my lips?
-Armando Torres

Bum

"Bum"
I sit here alone,
For I know no one
and no one knows me
as I sit here alone in these streets,
no one can see me
and no one wants to see me,
so I constantly sleep
in these shadows,
having the darkness all to my own
to sit in all alone
with dirt on this face and raggedy clothes,
these weary eyes have seen the dark
and this lonely mind has been lonely for a very long time;
In the shadows I stay
to die alone
away from a world I was never a part of,
I die and the world will never know
never to show-a tear,
or grow
to embrace me,
For no one can see me,
Nothing is all I can be
in a world that has forgotten me,
to sit alone in these streets
to die alone where no one will see
to leave this world
and have no one ever remember me,
Because I know no one
and no one knows me.
-Armando Torres

that old wooden wall

"that old wooden wall"
He sits in the corner inside that old wooden house, inside that old wooden chair staring into that old wooden wall; he remembers with eyes glazed over looking back on this warm summer day as the warm rays pour through the window warming his old weary face. The dust dances slowly through the thin yellow lines of light shining through that barren room of wood and walls. Those eyes have lost all meaning no longer seeing that worn wall but into something that fills his face empty with despair. Nothing remains in that room but a man and a chair.
-Armando Torres

The soft light

"The soft light"
This soft gloom exists only for what I can find to write
as it fends off the looming shadows,
I see those steps extending upwardly into the sky
as they hide behind those devious white clouds,
and somewhere between the lines I can feel it,
and somewhere underneath the sounds I can hear it,
and somewhere in the darkness I can see it,
This soft gloom exists only for what I can find to write

Writing in the dark in so many ways
brings all that I'd rather forget
but instead its where its all I can see.
Somewhere in the darkness lies everything I am,
waiting for that one moment for me to realize
so to fall deeper into the darkness,
to look forever and never find that soft light
that I had to write in,
that I had for anything and everything

Somewhere behind my closed eyes
there in the almagamation of thoughts and darkness
lays in wait that one moment of my life where I realize
that I am no longer alive,
that one moment where what I find to write
is never found by that soft light.
-Armando Torres

lost and never found

"lost and never found"
I searched for something to hold on to, grabbing wildly and finding nothing
and I searched for the seperating line for where the day ends and the night begins,
I searched for the air to breath as I felt my life drip out of me, gasping uncontrollably and breathing painfully
and I searched for the upside down mountains as I circled around again,
I searched for the strength to keep my eyes open, blinking wildly and finding nothing to see
and I searched for the vertical horizon that stretches from below and back up to the sky again,
I searched for the words to become the last words I would ever say, moaning deeply and finding nothing to say
and I searched for someone as I laid there alone, looking wildly and finding no one,
I searched for that one person who would watch me fade and found only the last breath I would ever take,
I searched and found no one and nothing to say,
I searched and found nothing and no one...
-Armando Torres

Miss me?

"Miss me?"
You would turn twenty-one today and I remember the way you would say that today was the day; that today was your day. As I look back that way into that gray haze I try to remember through the mist but I'm lost. As I look back through my fog I don't want to leave you but I'm lost again today and no longer can I see past this fog. You would turn twenty-one today and I can remember your face and the way you taste, I remember that today you said those words on your death bed now forever repeating inside my head and still I refuse to listen. They echo forever inside my mind and every time I hear them I can see you. I remember seeing that last breath escape your lips as the life left your eyes and still I won't listen. You would turn twenty-one today and I remember the way you would say that today was your day to die. I look back that way into that gray haze to hear your words; "don't miss me on this day" you said. "Don't miss me today."
-Armando Torres