I bore witness

"I bore witness"

There on that throne of skin and bone

I dared to look at that which I dared to see,

I bore witness and from the darkness

moaned a voice "It has come to this,"

And standing where my feet will stay

I looked upon that devil

as it turned and said to me,

bare witness to this,

And a horrifying beast marched out from the darkness

with pain and suffering in follow

forged in the fires of My misery,

And standing where my feet will stay 

I looked upon that beast

as it snarled and said to me,

bare witness to this,

And a man in hooded shadow came forth

draped in blood and intimate sorrow,

Plagued by the haunting memories of my thoughts

he rots and cries those tears of things not,

And there under that hood of blood and pain

I dared to look to which he cried to me,

bare witness to this,

And all those thoughts of mine of my life

were plagued with stains of lies

I wished were true,

And I cried those tears of things gone

forever forgetting

I bore witness to this

to exist to experience it all over again,

I looked upon that devil

broken and bare

forever forgetting 

I had caused all this.

-Armando Torres

The Dead Night

"The Dead Night"

There I sit

in the quiet darkness of it all

Wondering how it came to this;

Hearing the tiny chirps of the crickets

outside the window seal

      and the soft midnight breeze

brush against the leaves.

Nothing is left

But the calmness of the night;

the dead calm of it all.

The night sky sitting above

Watching,

     with its thousands of glittering eyes,

The things we do

     to satisfy those moments of urge.

There I sit in silent darkness

with my witness above and my eyes below;

there to sit

     to wonder how it came to this.

I sit with my head hung low

inside my chair

whose squeaks are the only other noise

to slice the dead silence of black,

the calmness of night;

I can finally feel the cold chill of darkness.

Drip dripping the cold blood on my hands;

trickling to the floor

staining a deep red;

Drip dripping this cold blood not of my own;

Drip dripping this silence of night off my hands.

I stare with my head hung low

by the window seal

at the dead calm of it all.

I sit in darkness

wondering how it came to this

but realize the silence of my answer.

Nothing is left

but the calmness of this night.

-Armando Torres

As He Forever Forgets v2

"As He Forever Forgets"

Gone are the days of happier times

as he slides

a freshly sharpened knife

up and down

along his veins,

He knows every motion brings him closer

to a place

where everything from the present will be gone

and

he can finally forget.

But as time drips past

only the ugly hollow remains of now

stains his face,

He had wished it would have been different,

to feel the world in a healthy way.

But time continues to slip way

taking with it

all reality and his pain,

As he slowly starts to forget

what it was

that brought him to this place.

The tender slices

along his arms

only remind him now

of a life worth living.

The salty tears of regret

linger at the edges of his eyes,

Spilling over only 

when he remembers

another lovely memory.

Gone are the days of happier times,

His life now has been stripped down

to only the little sounds of night

and

the silence of a bathroom floor,

Only the days of here and now

pierce his soul

as time slowly drips

from his wrists.

Soon it won't matter,

he will not exist.

He forgets what now feels like

as another tear slips away

at another lovely memory.

Gone are the days and only

a silent night

on a bathroom floor is left.

Gone are all the regrets,

Gone are the sunsets

and everything he felt,

As he strays further away

And he forever forgets.

-Armando Torres

My Faintest Image v2

"My Faintest Image"

There you are in my faintest image,

in the corner of my mind.

There you are smiling back at me

forever forgetting me

And that life

we were once supposed to have;

nothing more now

than just 

a ghostly collage of memories.

They haunt me so deep.

I fight back these sorrow filled tears

just to remember them,

All those moments,

gone to time

but still here in the present

to remind me that all I want to say is...

I miss you.

But I would be the only one to hear it.

Though...

there you stay

in my faintest image.

Missing you and your smile,

the touch of your lips against mine,

the comfort your arms around me brings.

I miss you I do but

I'll never say it.

Everything we had in that life

that existed between us 

has fallen

into dark water,

Sinking further with every passing moment.

Reaching for it 

I 

have fallen in too.

I look up and watch you 

as I drown away

into infinite darkness,

grabbing wildly upward,

desperate to be remembered.

I miss you I do, but,

I'll never say it.

Sinking further down still,

into the dark of infinite,

your picture exists

in my faintest image,

haunting me,

making me cry tears

underwater

mixing my existence inside irrelevance,

where reality will never see,

All that is left in the end

of proof I was ever really here,

are the haunting echoes 

of your sweet

"I love you's"

-Armando Torres

The Early Morning Mist

"The Early Morning Mist"

In the early morning mist

that lingers around us while we sleep

lies in wait

a beautiful sunrise

although however

not yet.

First, the dull blues and grays

drip away

from night to day

letting us see

the early

haze of dawn,

the gentle shade of waking day.

A world waiting inside

the softly blended grays.

We forget the gloom beauty

of this morning mist

And instead lay in wait

for the day to arrive,

not realizing

these delicate hues

of dull grays and blues

hold their own beauty.

Instead, we wait

for the warmth of purples and oranges

to rise over the horizon

to paint away

with it

the morning haze.

We never look back

to acknowledge the beauty before,

only look forward

to the sunrise.

Never realizing

the beauty of those silvery

purples and oranges

could not exist without

the contrast of the gentle splendor

of blended grays and blues and silvers.

It's there in those

lonely moments of morning,

that the brush strokes

of a beautiful sunrise

begin to be painted.

Where we begin

to shed memory of pain

for the promise of another day.

Letting go of our burdens of pain and sorrow.

Just for that single moment

of fresh air

among the oranges and golden yellows of sunrise.

To find the strength to smile again.

And the shaded mist of morning takes

all we are willing to give

so we can have that moment

and accepts it is not beautiful

like a sunrise

because of the pain it sheds for us.

However, it looks on through

its own shaded mists of gray

and knows

more than we can ever realize

how we are more beautiful

than a sunrise.

-Armando Torres

Water and Salt

"Water and Salt"

The minutes of now 

begin to flake away 

leaving behind 

only the seconds 

of the past 

to look at,

I feel it 

at the sides of my eyes,

a pressure trying to swell,

I want to cry 

but need to know why 

before these tears can fall,

while they just linger 

behind these stares of mine 

as I stretch my lips into smiles,

there will be a point 

some time in the future 

where I will walk 

among 

the echoes of memory 

in the same exact spots 

where I'm standing now 

when these tears will finally fall,

but for now 

I stare ahead blankly 

wondering why 

I can't cry 

even when all the pain 

is enough for this water and salt.

-Armando Torres

Forever Never Happens

"Forever Never Happens"
There are no
rainbows or butterflies
in her beautiful lie,

Only
the long empty looks
of her eyes,

She sits drenched
inside lonely gloom
dripping
through her
apartment window,

The long shadows
have grabbed at her heart
as she clings to hope
Hoping
inside deep tears
everything will pass

Because
Forever
Never
Happens.
-Armando Torres

Early Mornings

"Early Mornings"

I sit in the quiet darkness 

     of morning 

reminiscing,

The birds begin to sing their songs, 

     chirping their lyrics from the power lines,

The dark blues start to give way 

     to the warm hues of sunrise,

So many moments 

swell behind my weary eyes 

as I drink my coffee in the morning,

     remembering faded glimpses of my youth,

Time has washed away 

everything of worth and has left

the wreckage of a life 

     held together by only memories,

So many regrets, 

     so many thoughts both happy and wretched,

It's too much in the morning some days,

     too much to look in the mirror at my face

     and see my hollowed out eyes

     surrounded by circles

of dark shades of grey skin tones,

Too much to feel every ache and pain 

     of memory 

     in my bones,

To feel every ragged and worn out pull of my joints,

Too much to hear every echo of thought from years gone,

So I grab the bottle of vodka and serve a glass over ice,

It's only half passed nine and already I can't handle life.

-Armando Torres

In The Corner

"In The Corner"

At the end of every day I am reminded you are not here anymore,
Every time I see your side of the bed I feel this hole again,
     a missing piece ripped from me,
In the morning making my coffee
     I forget to make just enough for myself,
Instead
     I go and make breakfast for the both of us,
          As if you were still here,
I set your eggs and bacon with toast and coffee on your side of the table,
     I eat my meal as I choke down tears,
I thought I heard you call my name the other day,
     a hint of a whisper or perhaps just the wind,
All the rooms feel so suffocating without you,
     I find no solace in the light the day brings,
The silence that lingers in this house crushes my strength,
     I look at the empty spots you used to sit in and read,
The backyard bench we'd sit in and watch the leaves flutter and fall,
     I don't know if I can anymore,
          I don't know...
However,
     I thought I heard you whisper my name the other day,
          I thought I saw you in the other room as well,
I see you everywhere now,
     in every room of this house,
I now wait for the day to fade to night
          because the dark doesn't feel empty anymore,
There's something there now inside of it,
          Something lingering in the corner,
I don't feel so alone in the dark,
          I lay myself down on my side of the bed,
I just hope it's you in the corner.
-Armando Torres

Cigarette Tip v2.

"Cigarette Tip"
Steam rises from his lips
as if a cigarette tip burns
amidst this winter breeze,
Silky lines of gray rise
     into the icy air
          as he stands there
     looking out beyond
the falling white flakes
     that shrouds his colorless face,

His eyes not frozen
among the cold hardness lingering on the wind,
but instead
glow
like hot embers
burning
with icy precision
     at something he remembers,

A betrayal
that occurred in this very spot,
a stolen kiss he witnessed
but was not a part of,
A memory
too painful to linger on,

His vision begins to blur
     and the red glow cools
inside his eyes,
The icy chill of his tears
slowly pull him away
     from the rage
leaving him to slowly
wither away
amidst
this winter breeze
like a burning tip
     of a cigarette.
-Armando Torres

Only Nothing v2.

"Only Nothing"
I woke up to the warmth of sun
beaming on my face and
As the darkness of sleep slowly
dissolved away from my eyes
for the early morning light,
I unintentionally broke my necklace
from around my neck,
a precious heirloom, a gift,
a connection to my past
that I broke,

And for a few fleeting moments
I waited for the meaning of this
To dawn upon me
     like a fierce breath of fresh air.
But instead
Only the echoed silence
     of the ringing in my ears lingered,
Only the dim glow
     of the morning seemed to be watching,
I found nothing in that moment
that said to me it was of significance,
Nothing in the cosmos noticed,
No omniscient force took attention,
Nothing in existence looked except for me,

It was me that made this moment exist,
It was me that made it so,
It was I and not fate,
It was my face that watched and not God,
I saw and therefore it was and
     for a brief moment found what I was looking for
Only for it to fold into infinity and
Exist as an instant of
Only Nothing.

The ache of the Day

The ache of the day
has slowly worn me down
stripping away
my strength,
leaving just me to confess
     my sins
          to this bottle,
One drink before
     I peel back my socks and remove my shoes,
One drink before
     time settles in and swells behind my eyes,
One drink before
     the shower I'll take to numb the stress,

Time has washed away
     anything that was left,
My many moments slowly slide away
from my blurry memory
     with every slurp and gulp.
Leaving only just enough
to refill these illusionary feelings
     of acceptance,

Sometimes when my thoughts
     linger far longer
than my mind can allow,
Something reaches out
     into my ethereal space
     grabbing  pain and pulling away
anything that was of worth,
     leaving behind the wreckage of a man
who will never understand
his lies
were the only truths
he realized.
-Armando Torres

A Hint of Winter v3

"A Hint of Winter"
A cold grey lingers
at the edges
     of everywhere I look,

A hint of winter
     hangs on the air
     bringing with it
          a crisp freshness,

Closing my eyes   
I inhale sharply
     as the coolness of the wind
     courses through my lungs,
The sting of the cold
stabs me from within
as I hold it in for as long as I can endure,

Finally opening my eyes,
I see winter creeping in
     from the north,

There's a hint of memory
     on the cool air now,
Reminiscent flashes
     of a past
I once knew,
   
But never know anymore,

Only ever
     remember
just enough
     to feel the desolate pull
Of what,
     Once,
          Was,

Just hoping,
     at the mercy
     of this winter wind,
For another glimpse,
     Of a past I once knew.
-Armando Torres

Whiskey Burn

"Whiskey Burn"
The stillness of the night
settles in
around me,

From the corner,
     a candle softly flickers
its flame
     casting shadows
     that dance
     upon the walls
over one another,

The soft clanking of ice on glass
cuts the silence
     as I move
     my hand
to take a drink
of my whiskey,

My eyes are fixated
on the delicate light
as I wonder,
     how it all
     came to this,

The chaos of my memory
sits silently
with me
inside
this room,
     A lifeless hollow shell of what was,

I drink now
in this space
     as the flicker of flame
reflects upon
     the iris of my eyes
the regretful pain
the black of my pupils
hide,

I take another drink
swirling the ache
inside my glass
with the ends of my fingers
before pulling it to my lips and
swallowing the smokey burn
of regret,

That darkness grows larger,
Lifeless reminders begin to surround me
as the tiny candle slowly fades,

The suffocating silence
wraps
my mess of an existence
filling me
with the shimmering dread
of what comes next,

I sit back finally
as the candle flame
fizzles out
pulling my glass to my lips
one final time
drinking that last drink
as this darkness swallows me
     eating me whole,
leaving me with nothing
     but only
     a tainted
     soul.
-Armando Torres

Lost and Never Found... v2.

"Lost and Never Found..."
I searched for something
to hold on to,
Grabbing wildly and finding nothing,

I searched for the separating line
from 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,

I searched for the upside down mountains
as I circled around again,

I search for the strength
to keep my eyes open,
Blinking wildly and finding nothing to see,

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,

I searched for someone
as I laid there alone,
Looking wildly and finding no one,

I searched desperately 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

The Kiss That Never Ends v2.

"The Kiss That Never Ends"
Even though
I live most of the day
without your kiss
I find myself
existing
inside the small moments
     shared by our lips,

Wanting nothing more
but to have those kisses
to last for always,

Our lips touch
holding the air
that lies
intertwined
between
our tongues,
     sliding them
          past one another,
until finally
letting
that air
escape
our lungs,
     where the moment
finally
lives its last seconds,

It is here
at this time
once again,
that I begin
my fantasy
all over again,
where your lips
contain
the kiss that never ends.
-Armando Torres

The Healing Sea

"The Healing Sea"
It's a late day in June,
     A cool wind glides
          through
               the swaying trees
          as the sting
     of the heat
finally softens,

The cool hues
     of every shade
          of pink and blue and violet
     have spread up
over the horizon,
     stretching
          across the sky
      with
a silky softness,

The rhythmic pull
     of the Ocean
          pushes
               the glittering embers
          of yellow and white
     reflecting
over the surface
     of the water
          toward the shores
               disappearing
          in a flicker
     against
the sandy rocks
     underneath
          the next sway
     of calm foamy surf,
I find the freshness
     of a cool
          Ocean breeze
     brings
me a smile.

The sting
     of memory
          finally
     begins
to mend
     among
this healing Sea.
-Armando Torres

Pray

"Pray"
Awake again
in the middle of the night,
     My eyes can't seem to ever close anymore,
They burn at the edges
     with a salty ache,
leaving me to stare
     into the soft glow
          of the muted television screen,
with the tinge of fire
of pinks and purples and greens
     spattered on my face,
Nothing else lingers
in this stillness
except
the essence of my memory,

A silent chill from the outside night
creeps
through my small apartment window,
gliding in
delicately brushing my face like tiny hands,
triggering another painful memory
that continues
my fall into desolation,
I remember her tiny hands,

I hold the cold staleness of this memory
only for it to exist
     as a moment of regret,
to rewind over
     for another
          countless time,
I.
search.
for the strength.
to keep going.
but only find my empty life.
I search.
for the strength.
to pray.

My tired eyes
finally find
that slice of sleep
I've been waiting for,
however,
     a familiar image appears
in the darkness,
     a swirl of emotion
          splashes
               against
                    the rhythmic
               waves of colors
          forming
     this perfect picture
I remember,

I can't hold on too long,

The pain rips me away and
     once more my eyes are open,

It all comes flooding back again...

I remember the way she felt
     when I held her in my arms,
the look of her tiny face
     and her tiny sounds,
her tiny mouth
     and little hands,
her little smile
     and tiny breaths,

I stand at her doorway
     as a black silhouette
staring at her crib
     fighting back
tears of regret,

I search for the strength
to keep hoping my pain will end,
     but all my being
is bound by what happened,

I hoped and prayed every night
     and did all I could
     but could only watch.
          as my baby died.
I prayed every night and.
     nothing changed.

I search now
for the strength
to pray
but hope instead
for my death.
I pray for it.
-Armando Torres

A pointless speck

"A pointless speck"
A dark sky hangs overhead
peppered throughout
     with tiny bright specks,
I tilt my head back
aiming my eyes
toward the infinite black above,

All these points of pale light
reflected inside my eyes,
A section of ancient cosmic time
     whittled down
          to a spectrum of irrelevance
By a fleeting existence
that hopes for happiness and meaning,

I thought I found my meaning
for my life,
Just to watch it erode
right before my eyes
to a pointless speck of pale light,

So many moments
underneath this dark sky
whittled down
with countless other pointless points of my life,

I should have said sorry,
I should have said so many things,
I didn't mean the words that you heard
They were useless sounds
I regret ever occurred,
So many things I wish I did right,
you were,
      in the end,
Just another point of pale light
among so many others,
I don't blame you,
I'm closer to a ghostly shroud now
than a man,

As this disease eats away at me
I find there are no meanings
Only
     moments outside of my ethereal body,
And Inside
Only
     the illusion of emotion within my heart,

This dark sky will never feel this moment,
Never experience this blip
Of life going out,
Never see this pointless speck of pale light.
-Armando Torres

One Less Thing for God and Me to See

"One Less Thing for God and Me to See"
I watch vast movements of wind
     cut wide slices of blue sky
          between the cotton like fluff floating above,

Glimmers of past summers
overlay the present
painting reminiscent pictures
for me,

These places
hold a glint of memory
     in my eyes,

Seeing the tall golden grass
beyond the railroad tracks again,
Remembering when
     we waved around sticks
     aimlessly cutting away
     wide swathes of grass,
Rode our bikes
through crooked gravel roads,
Threw rocks
through cracked abandoned windows
     and stomped on broken glass,
Danced
     and laughed
          and ran
through the hollow remains
of buildings no longer alive,

We hopped over the crumbled pieces
     in blissful innocence,
Ignorant
     of what
     we would leave behind,

I never thought
I would be back here like this,
The twisted and contorted pictures of my gnarled world
before my eyes
have unraveled
into the very words
that my mind has painted alive,

These days my blood stained eyes
     hold weary the wear of the day
     and gaze out to the blur
in between my face and the vacant space before me,

My memory dances and hops and runs through me
like
I'm some kind of
     Broken down
          Crumbling building,
The world doesn't want to see me,

It's clear it's all gone and I hate how these tears feel,

So line after line
I snort obscurity straight to my brain
where all I remember fades
     And only irrelevance stays,
It's a place blessed,
One less thing for god and me to see,
I know now I'll be there soon,
But for now I ride the high
     and sway off the walls
          and fall upward toward the heavens
as my eyes roll backward,
I hang my head back again
     and find that place again
          where I can forget
               and do this all over again.
I'm not immune,
I know now
     I'll be there soon.
-Armando Torres