aspects

"aspects"

a mere moment moving 

through time with you 

is worth more 

than eternity frozen in place,

would you somehow feel 

the revelation 

of that statement?

would my words 

hold hidden 

an epiphany for you?

would there have to be 

insightful lessons learned 

for my words 

to have any kind of meaning 

even if the embellishment 

of the statement itself 

is already beyond 

what can be proven?

I know, in this moment

I can't wait 

to get to the next one 

with you 

because our experience 

lies 

inside 

the movement of time,

knowing that we only have 

a finite amount of it 

if given a choice 

I would want to experience 

all of it 

with you 

rather than 

only a single second of it, 

even as I know 

we slowly march toward 

an inevitable end,

I am a simple man 

and everything my soul 

has ever wanted 

was you,

I don't need 

the rest of reality 

to be happy,

even if 

this is all an illusion 

and the infinite vastness 

of existence 

is only really within 

my own consciousness 

and nothing else exists,

I would still 

move through 

my own delusions 

to create 

what I am feeling,

because there would be 

no contradictions 

to what was real,

it would be truth 

and truth 

would hold no quarter,

it would be 

as fluid 

as any lie,

the only difference being 

which side 

of the coin 

I am looking

and what I would want

to make a lie,

you are my reality

and life 

would be a moment frozen

without you,

even if 

you were never real.

-Armando Torres

mimic

"mimic"

I heard your voice 

coming from the other room,

it sounded just like you.

But I knew 

it wasn't you,

it was just a mimic 

using the sound of you 

to lure me in

but I could tell the difference,

it's only been 

a small length of time

since you left

and my memory of you 

is still so very vivid.

More winters have passed now 

and the house 

has slowly become unkempt,

I don't have the energy 

to do the small things,

your absence 

has drained me,

but I heard your voice again,

coming from the other room,

but it was not you,

at first 

it was just nice to hear you

that I almost followed you,

but I know the difference,

even if 

it says 

hey, come here,

I need you, 

help me,

as delicious as that sounds 

it is only the itch 

that I can't scratch,

Many more winters and autumns 

have passed now 

and the loneliness 

has eaten away 

all of my resolve,

the house is buried 

in shadow and trash,

I wouldn't know 

the difference between

what a good meal was 

and something 

I just grabbed off the floor,

I know I lost you 

but am I sure you left?

You call for me 

from time to time

from the other room

but I never listen,

I have just gotten used 

to you 

saying things like how 

you need me,

but is it you?

I feel the length of time 

of your absence 

but now 

when I hear your voice 

it's like you never left,

I stare at you 

as you stand 

in the corner 

draped in shadow,

it looks like you,

but without any of the details,

my mind 

fills in those pieces,

you show me 

your toothy grin

and call out 

to me again,

I'm coming, I say to you.

I'm coming.

-Armando Torres

everything

"everything"

What do you mean to me? 

It is something 

I've been thinking about 

for some time now. 

I knew 

from the first moment I met you 

that 

I wanted a life with you.

But that 

only implies 

what you mean to me.  

What are the words? 

What are the feelings?

I've thought about 

the physical inner workings 

of trying 

to convey such a thing.

I've written down my thoughts 

and thought about 

the electrical signals 

from my brain 

that travel down my arm 

and into my fingers 

that then create 

these extravagant strokes 

of pen on paper 

and into letters and words 

that somehow become 

a coherent system of sentences and ideas 

that against all odds 

become how I feel 

in the most rudimentary sense 

of the thing.  

How can I tell you 

what you mean to me?

And I have come 

to the most obvious conclusion 

that I cannot. 

I can only show you 

with the years I have left 

of my life 

and with every action.  

These are my words 

which are so miniscule 

compared to the years 

I am prepared to spend with you. 

You mean everything to me.  

And I don't say that lightly.

-Armando Torres

Wistful

"Wistful"

I will miss these moments

I remember thinking,

it was when I was happiest

   that this thought 

   would cross my mind,

there is a yearning there 

that exists

when you miss something,

and in my moments 

when I am the loneliest

   nostalgia transforms 

from a mere yearning

into a prophetic confirmation 

that I was indeed right,

I do 

   miss 

those moments,

But alas, 

only the happy ones,

they're like drugs,

even the manufactured ones,

   because 

   at some point 

I just miss everything

and I just start saying 

I miss when...

this or that

and fill it

with something 

I don't even really feel,

it's just too painful 

to actually remember 

the things I miss,

I just pull the memories 

that are easiest,

but in those loneliest moments,

maybe with some bourbon on ice,

I allow myself 

to remember a few of them,

away from everyone,

just enough to get my fill,

and wipe away a few tears,

just enough 

so that I can fall asleep

and search for something 

tomorrow 

that will 

ease the urge 

to remember anything.

-Armando Torres

my sense of silence

"my sense of silence"

Upon this dark and dreary night

I hold a glass in hand 

with caramel colored liquor on ice

searching 

amongst a soft elegy 

of piano notes playing

for meaning 

inside my memories,

something that would tell me 

that all my mistakes 

I have made 

meant something other than 

just being alone 

with regret;

   that these scars 

   are going to matter 

   in some kind of way

   as I am dying,

My eyes gloss over

staring into oblivion 

as the darkness 

crawls in from the edges, 

I take another drink 

and venture deeper 

in search for meaning 

where there was none 

hoping I can create it 

by connecting things 

that were never relevant,

but alas,

there is only silence 

in response 

and shadows crawling 

on the walls,

only 

the stillness of the night 

answers back 

as I take another drink

staring into the void.

-Armando Torres

Unraveled Thread

"Unraveled Thread"

I can only hope 

that somewhere inside 

the fabric of time 

there exists some kind of line 

of cotton thread,

   An entangled twine 

   this line of thread 

   that I wish I was able 

to pull upon 

and unravel instead.

Considering my life 

are just patches of memories 

stitched together,

woven tightly by the strands 

of nature's fibers;

   I realize these delicate threads 

   are weaved throughout 

   reminiscent pieces of time

   into the tapestries of my existence,

pieces sewn together 

with elegant needlework 

holding tightly 

each soundless moment 

of my recollection;

Where they finally form 

my eclectic cloth 

of thoughts 

and experiences 

that I sometimes wish were not so 

in the ways that they happened 

   but are now part 

   of the tapestry 

of my many choices and regrets.

I can only hope there exists 

among the fabric of my reality 

within all its splendid designs 

of interwoven threads,

   a single line of silk or cotton string 

   I can reach out and pull upon 

   to unravel 

   this horrible dream of mine 

and rearrange 

this vision of cloth again.

Alas, however

untangling a tapestry 

of such tightly woven moments 

is sadly not like pulling on a line 

of cotton thread 

and is perhaps more like 

erasing thin lines from ink and pen.

In my somber retrospection 

I now realize,

I will only ever be able 

to reflect upon 

that which my mind can create 

and never really change

the delicate intricate woven 

needlework that sews together 

the patchwork of my life.

-Armando Torres

always there

"always there"

I can feel it there 

when I hear a piano playing 

or when I hear 

the sadness in someone's singing, 

I can feel the delicate pressure 

behind my eyes 

as I listen 

to the elegant plucking 

of certain guitar strings, 

It's there when there's silence 

and it's just me 

and the sunset 

alone together

for a few moments 

before the blues of night 

spread across the sky

and everything in me changes 

from a barely held together 

type of strength 

to a fraying of emotion,

It releases through my skin 

and in my tears 

and the pressure that was there 

pushing against me 

that I was holding back 

goes away,

Like holding my breath 

for a long moment

and longer still

and longer

and finally 

letting it out 

the air 

in my lungs 

through my mouth

and feeling the moment again,

The relief 

cascades up my spine 

as I listen 

to the quiet swaying 

of the water 

against the shore,

the muted sounds of everything 

hang in the air 

and the world becomes quiet 

and I can feel it there 

amongst the silence,

Always waiting 

just beyond

the seconds of any given moment, 

ready 

to be pulled 

into existence 

once again

every time 

I breath in.

-Armando Torres

secretion

"secretion"

have you ever seen vaginal secretions 

under a microscope,

it's beautiful,

it looks like 

early morning frost forming 

on a clear glass window

amidst a winter's dying day

just as dusk begins to fall 

and the warm orange glow 

of a fire 

dances on the walls,

like geometric art 

stretching out

into a type of 

natural symmetry 

beyond our simple comprehension,

like flowers growing toward the heavens

leaning into the sunlight,

   arranging its petals 

   to the golden ratio,

or like grecian architecture,

with columns and walls

adorned with extravagant designs

and breathtaking textures,

it's like a godsend,

a secret message 

in another language 

that only needs to be learned,

an alluring secret

that hides behind 

shapes 

that are so exquisite,

it's beautiful 

and I recommend 

you see it.

-Armando Torres

i need it

"i need it"

I grit my teeth 

and push back tears 

and swallow 

the scraping lumps in my throat, 

I need all of it, 

   I want the stabbing pain 

   upon my heart, 

to feel the existential flesh 

rip open and tear apart 

like a slicing knife tearing through 

the folly of my mind, 

I want to become something 

other than this, 

I don't want to find satisfaction 

in happiness, 

would rather fine tune 

to the misery 

and relish in its aftermath 

becoming something 

that looks at memories 

for the pain they contain 

and drinks it in 

as a more suiting consolation, 

I want enough of it 

so that I can justify everything 

that I have done 

and give purpose for everything 

that is to come.

-Armando Torres

a mere moment

"a mere moment"

a single solitary snowflake 

still clinging 

to the icy chill 

swimming on the air,

desperately trying 

not to melt away 

into a simple droplet of moisture 

that one would not be able 

to distinguish 

from the other droplets 

that are among the puddles 

under neon lights

on the sidewalk 

by the gas station,

a miraculous shape 

of geometry and nature 

coming together 

along nature's lines 

with the laws of science 

to form this extravagant design 

of beauty and form and elegance 

that no wide eyed, 

lumbering human 

could ever see normally,

details so rare 

it only ever occurs once 

and is gone forever, 

a mere moment 

so beautiful 

before it all just melts away 

with the rest 

without it 

ever being noticed.

-Armando Torres

traces of the past

```

"traces of the past"

This is so new to me

not because this is the first time 

but just that 

it has been 

a really long time,

I'm seeing you 

in all my thoughts,

feeling you 

in all my empty parts of me,

craving 

to hold you 

as you rest your head 

on my chest,

day dreaming 

about your smile 

and the awkward way 

you joke with me,

it's growing, 

this feeling 

that I'm feeling for you

and I don't want to lose it,

it's exciting 

to have you in my mind 

right before I sleep 

thinking about seeing you 

again 

the next day,

there is a fear though 

that I may be too broken 

and it might make me leave 

without saying goodbye,

to be selfish 

and think that maybe 

you will be happier

without me,

to avoid any pain 

that I may cause you 

but then 

I let you in again 

and all that goes away,

the fear turns to hope,

I just hope 

we aren't making a mistake.

-Armando Torres

golden lines

```

"golden lines"

I told you that I was broken 

and instead of using it 

as an excuse 

you helped mend the pieces,

you lifted my chin 

as I looked down in shame 

and admitted

that I wasn't whole 

and haven't been 

for some time now,

you drew my gaze into yours 

and you told me 

that it's okay,

You gently ran 

the tips of your fingers 

along the cracks 

of my psyche 

and felt the spaces 

where the pieces 

were missing,

I explained 

that I had been 

holding myself together 

through the pain 

and that I had lost 

some of myself 

as the years have gone by, 

and you softly quieted 

my despair 

and said it's okay,

You poured yourself 

into the spaces 

and pulled me back together,

a golden mending 

glimmering along the erratic 

and jagged lines 

of my fractures,

spreading out

like a spider's web 

all across me 

and instead 

of using it as an excuse 

to leave 

you loved me harder 

and mended my pieces

leaving behind 

mended golden lines

that made me whole

once again.

-Armando Torres

godhead

"godhead"

There are things I have lost 

that are now 

separated 

beyond time and space,

   places I can't go 

   and people I cannot see,

I am beyond reach 

as they are to me,

So I take this mixture 

I have concocted 

that allows me 

to build worlds 

inside my mind,

Where all that I lost will still 

be with me,

and it isn't so lonely 

if I just ignore 

the fact 

that it's all not real,

But it is!

It all does exist somewhere 

on some kind of plane 

in some far away place 

where the actions taken 

by the things created here 

are beyond my own influence, 

If I just don't impose my will 

onto them 

then they will act 

of their own accord,

then they are real, 

it is all real, 

I am then 

like a god 

and they are beyond my will,

They exist as their own beings 

because they will it to be

and not me,

And so, 

I am no longer lonely 

when I have all this love 

to give 

to all my children,

they are all real

and I am like a god

all born by our own 

divine will.

-Armando Torres

i miss it...

"i miss it..."

I miss the years 

where simple things felt different,

like when a movie was coming out 

on the big screen 

and people had to wait 

in line 

just to get a ticket,

or when a group of people 

at a small venue 

had infectious energy 

for the local band 

that was playing,

I remember video rental places 

and renting something new 

without having to form 

any kind of opinion 

other than 

excitement 

before I even had it in my hand,

or small businesses

having more random 

live music sessions,

I liked it better when 

the internet was mostly still 

just beginning 

and opinions 

weren't considered factual,

when online arguments 

were still mostly pointless,

I like the years better when 

there were TV shows on 

actual TV channels 

and watching whatever was on 

instead of scrolling through 

endless menus,

having Cartoon Network on 

and watching Dexter's Lab 

or discovering anime 

for the first time on Toonami,

I can still remember 

working my job 

and looking forward 

to when new music came out 

on a Tuesday 

and this way 

I could have something 

to listen to 

the whole week,

or burning CDs 

and making the sickest playlists,

fine tuning the selection 

and finding the perfect order 

to place them in

so I never had to skip,

I miss the years 

where I felt happier 

in a shitty world 

because the small things 

just felt more important.

-Armando Torres

it's happening

"it's happening"

It happened, 

you exist now 

in that space in my mind 

where I think about you 

all the time,

I think about 

how you rest your head 

on my chest, 

the way you smell 

when I put my nose 

against your hair, 

how I crave to gently kiss 

your forehead 

and how I hold you tight 

as you joke with me,

 

Sharing our stories 

with each other 

as we laugh away 

the hours of the day,

   as the colors of daylight 

   slowly turn 

   into the hues of dusk, 

never noticing 

the light blues 

turning into the shades 

of night,

I just listen to you 

and hear about how you grew up,

     how you had to build 

your strength on your own, 

heard about the stretches of years 

where you felt so alone 

and depressed, 

how life felt its heaviest 

and as I listened 

I could feel in myself 

feeling 

how I don't ever want you 

to be unhappy like that, 

how you deserve so much more 

than that, 

How I want to take on 

that responsibility 

and try to make you feel 

your best 

everyday, 

That's what exists inside me

now,

and I'm just trying 

to come to terms with it,

because it can be 

kinda scary.

-Armando Torres

...anymore

"...anymore"

I can still see 

the vibrant colors 

of the flowers 

you loved walking through,

the green meadows 

out and away 

from the grey concrete 

of the city 

and its busy streets,

but there seems to be 

some things 

I am starting to forget,

like the color of your dress 

or what time of day it was 

we used to go,

it had to have been 

in the middle of the day 

some time, 

look noon or nine or two?

I can't seem to remember 

where we were 

actually 

or your shoes,

come to think of it 

I don't even remember 

how to spell your name anymore, 

was it with an I or a Y or an E?

I can't quite see 

all the flowers anymore 

if I am being honest,

or if there were any trees,

I can barely see your face,

if that's even how you 

even looked,

even the sound of your laugh 

has faded,

large parts have seemed 

to disappear 

into a gentle mist 

and I can't make the shapes 

anymore,

I am just standing here 

in the void 

against an endless black,

tiny echoes 

of our voices 

slowly dissipating, 

small details fading away,

only bits and pieces remain 

like the blue flower 

I picked for you 

that was sitting amongst 

the yellow grass...

or was it red?

I can't seem to remember 

anymore.

-Armando Torres

barriers

"barriers"

Before I knew you,

there seemed to be 

some kind of emptiness in me 

that I would choose 

to ignore,

it was there 

and I didn't really know it,

I could feel the tips 

of its presence 

upon my soul

and I would just grit my teeth 

and swallow it whole,

I didn't want to know 

how far this void could go,

didn't want to complicate 

the delicate balance 

of my complacent place 

in life,

I wanted to just make it through 

another day 

but then 

I met you 

and you changed everything,

I didn't know another person 

could get so close 

to my heart again,

didn't know 

someone else could find it 

when I had it 

buried so deep even I 

couldn't tell you 

where it was,

but somehow 

you navigated 

the maze like barriers 

I had built 

and found me,

you saw me 

without my walls,

without my faults,

without the burdens I chose to carry 

as penance 

for any regrets 

I may have been carrying,

you saw me 

and chose to find me,

to walk through 

the wired fences,

over the impossibly 

high walls,

the thorned bushes 

and the dancing flames,

you chose to hug me 

and wipe away my pain 

and told me 

that it was going to be okay,

before you 

I would have built 

another barrier 

and stayed by the flames 

as they splayed my skin,

but now,

I am not even sure how 

to build a barrier 

anymore,

not even sure who that was

when I was 

still hiding from myself.

-Armando Torres

you:

"you:"

it slowly crept in 

from the edges

so subtly 

that at first 

I didn't even notice it,

then the days went by 

and more of it 

became apparent 

and I could no longer ignore it,

it's not like a choice 

but a willingness 

to accept what life is 

presenting you,

to recognize the value 

and decide unknowingly 

that you are open to this,

as we spend more and more time 

together 

I recognize 

how special you are to me,

I found myself at the start 

thinking about you 

when you weren't around 

and I find myself now 

thinking about you 

all the time 

and how I can try 

to make your life better,

everything feels so easy 

when you're around 

that you have inspired me 

to pick up all my old hobbies 

again,

to end 

the stresses I have kept,

to breath in the day 

and be thankful for it 

because it's another opportunity 

to spend time with you in it,

I just hope 

I can make you feel 

the same way.

-Armando Torres

atonement

"atonement"
I want a way out 
of this labyrinth, 
my memories of you 
act like long 
corridors 
to get through
and every time I turn the corner 
of one 
there always seems to be 
another memory waiting,

I can't seem to find 
the end 
and each time I feel close 
to one 
I see you again,

maybe it's because 
these walls keep changing, 
sliding and shifting 
as I make my way down 
another long one,

I can feel the ground beneath me 
moving 
as this whole labyrinth 
keeps changing around me 
just so I can't escape,

the air always feels 
so tight 
and the open sky above 
is only there 
to taunt me 
with the hope 
that I could possibly 
be free from here,

but even when I see 
the open space 
at the end of a corridor, 
the walls always shift and shape 
into corners 
and there you appear again, 
my curse, my cross to bear,
my burdens with which 
I pay my penance.
I need a ball of thread
to finally be able 
to escape.

-Armando Torres

lingering vestige

"lingering vestige"
There's heartbreak in my soul, 
   though that word 
   is not entirely conducive
   to how it feels for me,

It's not like a crack 
in something broken,
it's more like a sticky substance, 
an oily sap 
that attaches 
to everything inside me,

The break came 
when we separated, 
when our connection 
ceased to be, 
what remains in the aftermath 
isn't 
a structure broken in two 
but an awful dark substance 
that can never really be 
cleaned thoroughly, 

There will always be hints 
of it 
somewhere 
in the furthest recesses, 
a kind of residue 
that never really goes away, 
just a vague stain 
of heartbreak
of what I once felt 
for you.

-Armando Torres