Empty Bottle

The bottle is for the unwinding, now I've got mine,
drink till the bottom, do you want some?
If it weren't for the phone call, me alone I would fall back.
Sack the time we can drink your favorite wine.

In the drift of it all we have our fun,
tip and sip I know you like it that way.
Say I don't remember the last time you and I stayed up all night.
We already know we'll be up till the morning shines.

When did it become so difficult to come together?
Till the year started going so fast, we thought we had forever.
Everyday we move closer to that someplace, somewhere, hopefully over the rainbow.
With courage we keep ourselves propped up high,
don't fly to low, never let go of your own flow.

Sway from side to side, play that beat you like.
Sing with me all night, the bottle will keep you right.

Lost In Depth

    I had become a police officer with high hopes, plans to arrive to a position in which to involve myself to a degree that would serve the people at a noble and respectable level. All I really got years into my dedication was a parole car, a cheap desk, and a salary to pay the bills. My work had become like a tedious and every day job, maybe worse, I felt lost in a daily grind which was a depth below extraordinary. It hadn't been this way before, I had been fueled with motivation and persistence, because I believed I could make happen for myself and the community I served whatever it was that was deemed right, to bring forth victory in our stride. Perhaps this place had something of a problem that for unknown reasons would attach itself to the unsuspecting, un-involved law enforcement officer that I had become.
    It was a fatal accident that threw the course of my focus off the rails of the track I thought was to be my life's path. I had married to a girl in town that was for certain the sweetest, and most caring around, keeping me more than just happy. At the time I was advancing towards a lateral role when me and my Wife had our child, a baby girl. It made me feel as if I had a new calling in life, to raise this child as if it were to be my last, unfortunately that came to be true.
    On a gloomy day in May, we packed baskets with fresh baked bread, cheeses, meats, and sparkling drinks, then we drove to a park to pass the Sunday in pleasure & peace. It was in a moment of distraction, my Wife and I argued jokingly, that our 18-month old daughter wandered towards the road that stretched out not far from where we sat under the shade of a tree. I remember hearing the vehicle approaching when my Wife's expression turned from joy to horror as she burst into shout, "Lexi!" she screamed. I turned, jumping to my feet with not a second to think, but it was too late, she was a foot away from the pavement. I lunged myself forward, running towards her while shouting her name as if it were to bring her to a halt, "Lexi! Lexi!" I shouted. The last thing I remember was the shadow of a man from the corner of my eye as I dove into the street after her. The car slammed it's brakes, and the screeching was the last I heard.
    I awoke from a coma two weeks after the accident, my daughter died shortly after we were rushed to the hospital, the details of her condition are too gruesome to say, and so grueling for me to explain. Everything went down hill from there, I was no longer proving efficient at work, and our lives felt entrenched in a shadow that seemed to swallow us. In my Wife's eyes reflected the same cold, sorrow look I had on mine, our lives a tragedy, a dream sought but lost. Most nights I dreamed of a dark place, nothing was visible, but I could hear my daughter screaming for me, "Daddy! Daddy I'm here!", but I could never find her. A feeling began to grow on me, a feeling that she was still out there, existing in a place somewhere between now and the after, a place from which there was no return.
    It was a late night, lightning rang above, it lit the dark sky, and rain poured heavily, clinking when it hit the roof of my patrol car. I was simply driving a routine route, an older industrial area of town when I came across a lot that had been empty for some time. Young teens staying out too late have been known to break into these lots, hoping to have fun getting intoxicated in the dark sheltered space away from public. As I drove around the property, I could see a light somewhere inside glow dimly, just as I simultaneously saw out of the corner of my eye a door which gave entrance inside swing shut.
    I stepped out of the cruiser into the rain, and then through the door. It was dark inside, a darkness that was strangely thick like fog, insomuch that my flashlight only carried for a couple feet in front of me. There was an odor that smelt like engine grime, and there was an echo to my step as if the walls were a mile apart. It felt like my dream, and a part of me began to question whether or not it was.
    I saw a light once more, so I walked towards the faint glow. "Daddy!", my daughter's scream came to me now in this dark place, then a confusion came over me like a haze. Again I could hear her, "Daddy! Daddy I'm here!", it came from the dim glow of light. I called her name, "Lexi!" I shouted, but then the light disappeared. I could hear muffled steps somewhere behind me, but when I turned my light could not shine forth far enough to reveal who approached.
    From the depth of the dark it came, and it whispered "I will have you, I will have you like the child.", then it snarled "Before the end I will have you.". Standing now in silence, my hand shook with fright, and sweat rolled down my temples. What I saw were teeth, a drooling mouth hung wide open as the Phantom lunged forward.
    I awoke in my patrol car, an other officer was knocking on my window, and after a brief search of the place we never did find anyone. I still continue to have the dream in which my daughter cries out to me from a dark place, but now I dream of the Phantom too. "Closer I am to having you, so close to being mine." it will say to me, and I feel there is nothing I can do to stop it. My Wife doesn't speak much anymore, she has become like a zombie, but then again so have I. When I look into her eyes I see darkness, lost in a depth that goes deep down, as if something has her from the inside.

The Read

    I found it upstairs tucked in a bedroom closet, not as if it had been forgotten, but ignored. The leather wrapped cover was clearly aged, like an antique, yet the book appeared to have been well handled, treated like a treasure. A face of a wolf embedded into the front stood out to me, catching my eye above all else. Strangely though, a single hand print in the dust held to the book, telling me that recently it had been read, but as if the reader had never let go.

    The first page read "Writings of Julio Varacova", but there was no date, and the following pages revealed no clues as to who the writer was exactly. He wrote various things, sometimes he wrote in Spanish as if the rhythm could only be captured in the language, and it ranged from love stories to nightmares, but none were about him. Sentences comprised experimentally, many times oddly, but they held onto me.
 
    My attention became swallowed, and I did not want to cease reading, as if the book leaned in closely, whispering in my ear like to soon reveal a secret. It only caused me to listen more attentively. So engulfed now that my mind did not linger or drift away, not to the time, the place, or what it was that I had been doing before I began reading. What was it that I was reading?

    I stared outward to my self from within the book, as if all that I was in touch with was my conscious, which was held trapped in the pages of the book. I could see my self, as if another person, but it was me, and my face held nothing but a blank stare, I was hollow. The light began to escape as the book slowly shut it's wide mouth, my mind still caught inside. Whoever this writer was, he certainly knew how to capture the reader.

Ervin M. Amaya

Fallen Watch Tower

High on a hill I lay on rusted steel of a fallen watch tower.

Way up here I feel like a flower nearing the end of it's season, 

and so close to my mind lingers the fact of my body's treason.

I run my fingers through my hair as I wind down,

the unfair truth now drifting away as I incline to a more peaceful place.

The tears dry and what seemed like a frown that would last till the end,

now shifts to form the appearance of a more pleasant face.  

Hours pass as I enjoy the warmth of the sun as my body absorbs it,

but now I feel the discreet chill of a breeze, reminding me of the doom shadow hanging over me.

I was confident that I had won, but now I wish to freeze time so that tomorrow never comes.

Will I open my eyes every waking day to see that my nightmare draws near, or will I lift this sorrow so to dream of the things that chase away my thoughts of the powerful foe?

An unseen criminal slowly smuggling away the gems until there aren't anymore.

For now I will try hard to play my day to a happier song, but sad to say that not long from now will my story reach the part in which the disease steals away my heart.

E.M.A.

The Last Fight

I see fire in the distant, it seems to climb so high.

The armies they roar as their feet pound the ground, 

Now the storm rolls in, the darkness drifts further down,

and they're not far from us now.

I told you all that I would be here for you.

I will lead you, wont leave you, and I will fight by your side.

It's getting closer, don't fear I stand near.

It's getting heavy, I will help you carry the weight.

In the front of the line is where I will be.

Please, trust in me to make the right call.

You will make it, even though you grow weary.

I will pull you, and drag you if I really needed to.

I told you all that I would be here for you.

I will lead you, wont leave you, and I will fight by your side.

It's getting closer, don't fear I stand near.

It's getting heavy, I will help you carry the weight.

In the end, what matters is not what you thought.

In the last stretch, hold true to your word.

In the last fight, I promise I will shine forth as your light.

In the last blow they will know, they should have just turned back.

I told you all that I would be here for you.

I will lead you, wont leave you, and I will fight by your side.

It's getting closer, don't fear I stand near.

It's getting heavy, I will help you carry the weight.

Ervin M. Amaya

                                                                                           Photograph: Alexus S. Kilpack

The Owl In The Stump

Out here in the midst of desert sand, towering stones, and far away from the places we call home, I can see life in such a simple form.

Out here in the long stretch of the sun I forget about time, and the pressure of the things that do not matter which stand in line at my door.

Out here under visible stars I can breathe deep, there are no tears to weep so long as I have your company to keep.

Out there life becomes so difficult and complicated, insomuch that in result we enter our adult years searching for purpose in strange ideas and dark cults.

Out there happiness is confused with money and jewels, now so suddenly the weasel has dug mazes through what matters most, with no concern for you.

Out there we are a mess, scrambling to secure our own, doing whatever possible to place on others large debts so to claim that they owe.

I see it all so clearly now, but I'll do what I can to lead us through, to keep you happy & free.

Ervin M. Amaya

                                                                                           Photograph: Alexus S. Kilpack

Hero

The power unleashed me, like a gift from above released unto me.

This phenomena as a child like a tease to me, but now I'm older, stronger, I could never let go.

The strength phenomenal, I remain anonymous through the shadow, and under the mask.

An owl in the dead of the night, not a single match encountered is a rival to me.

A protector, the one to stay back and fight,

An enforcer, I'll be here to counter the strike,

                                                                Photograph: Alexus S. Kilpack

The responsibility hanging heavy, lost lives slowly tearing me apart side to side.

This constant struggling to be in multiple places at once, only ever is one single chance.

The power consuming, the evil in the dark so overwhelming.

An impeccable thing or the one always at fault, the people always in doubt.

A savior standing over your shoulder, or am I evil's reaper just around the corner?

An indestructible being, but I fear I'm the one that could rip it and bring it all down.

I am what you hope me to be.

I will stand strong for you.

I will always hear you.

I am the hero.     

E.M.A.

A Spark In The Dark

Not long ago I came to know a girl who saw much differently this realm in which I live.  To her this place is nothing but darkness and rust, with a sky sunk low over a town crumbling with age.  Upon these streets she claims that she does not see warm faces of friendship and trust, but monsters bizarre engulfed within a dense fog that never lifts.

She described these monsters as nearly human, but their skin bald, torn, and stitched.  She told me that I appear faintly like a ghost, and that I will likely remain visible for another day at the most.  At that point I knew not what to think of the stories she told, but it was so difficult to find her insane for the immense detail in the things of which she spoke.

As a child she knew a life of the perfect norm, changing weather, and no knowledge of the depression which comes from being alone.  She did not know of the anger which comes from struggle and loss.  She did not know the sound nor feeling of a horrific beating heart.  I fell victim to her tales, wanting to hear more and to see it all for myself.  The move I would make next was far from smart, and what I was to experience next was nothing less then death & chaos.

The girl looked at me with teary, wide eyes, saying that they were coming for her now.  This is when her figure began to disappear right in front of me.  I had to act quickly, there was no room to be slow for now I could see ashes falling down from the sky as if it were snow.  A spark flared behind her, growing into a gaping hole, and outward flowed a rolling fog.  I couldn't leave her for I knew I would forever dream of her, so I did what I thought was brave... I followed her into the dark.

Ervin M. Amaya

                                                                                            

Cellar Door

Through the cellar door my mother always warned me not to go.  She would say if ever I went I would meet an unlikely surprise, and that there would be a lump price to pay.

I  would sit there and stare while the imagination filled my mind with curious thoughts as to what I could possibly find. Then there came the time I heard a knock on the door, and a whisper from inside.  That's when this poor boy just couldn't stay away.

I searched my mother's drawer to find the set of keys with which I could gain entrance through the cellar door.  At last there was no lock holding me back, and I descended down into the humid space.

 

The stairs creaked on my way down, sounding my presence.  As I reached the last step I tripped and fell -what lack of grace- knocking myself unconscious upon hitting my head on some random shelf.

When I awoke I found myself sitting in a steal chair -this was indeed very startling to me- and I could smell a foul odor lingering in the air.  It was so dark I could barely see, then that strange whisper I could hear somewhere close behind me.  This was the first time I had real intent to say a prayer.

It was a thing, some hideous thing that leaped to stand right in front of me.  So dark I could hardly tell, but I could see it had sharp teeth as it flared them at me.  It whispered "You are mine and you will never leave, and I will eat you inside out while you're still alive.  Now you will know what it's like to feel real fear."

I screamed so loud hoping someone would hear, then I awoke in bed for it was only just a dream.  Thank God, it was simply a fantasy in my sleep, but wait I could feel something breathing and drooling down on my feet.  Suddenly there was my mother standing next to me, she said "I told you to stay away, and for what you saw there is a price to pay, horrors like that don't play for free."

E.M.A.

Shaped By Water

These brown eyes will see right through you, and I feel the world around me like a sixth sense.

I am intuitive, following my heart has led me to safety and away from danger more than once.

I can almost precisely know what you are thinking or feeling, and because of this I can be nutritive to your soul.

My motions flow like a steady stream or at times like waves in a storm, test me and you will see just how punitive I can be.

I could fill any shape, change with the time, and blend with any crowd.  With this trait I can find the crack through which to escape or fit in so well that I am not enshroud.

Deep like the ocean my emotions & thoughts will always be, this is why I am always so restricted and private, never so readily inclined to share.

Addicted I can so easily become, so understand why the strong devotions I hold, why I can have such a difficulty letting go, and the reason behind my adoration & admiration for you.

I can alter your perceptions, appear mystical at times, and surprise you with my actions.  Most importantly I must keep balance if I hope to be a perfect paradigm.

I am Water.

Ervin M. Amaya

Photograph: Alexus S. Kilpack                                          

Invisible Friend

  Many days go by before one hears of me, sees me, or even knows whether or not I am still on the face of Earth.  The curious friend might wonder where I have been, while the worrisome friend will fear that one day they will come to learn of a tragedy.  Honestly I do not care much to share the places I go, nor do I ever expect you to feel as if I have disappeared from your lives.

The Invisible Friend always wishes to stay near and involved in the lives of his friends, hoping that he will continue to have opportunities to build further memories like the ones already shared.  It is always of much importance to him that his friends are happy, and that they will live out successful experiences with little to no regrets as they look back on their history. Nothing would be greater than seeing the dreams of friends come true, and that their aspirations are never done in vain.

It hurts to hear of miserable times a friend must endure, and it breaks ones heart to know that time cannot be rewound for their sake nor can it be skipped, much unlike the streams of recordings you see everyday.  Good memories are always wanting to be captured while those less desirable are attempted to be forgotten or left behind.  As the Invisible Friend it is impossible to always be there, and the majority of the time it feels as if much has been missed when in the attempt to bring comfort. Though these memories cannot be erased, if it were possible for the Invisible Friend to do so then he would without hesitation upon a friends request, regardless of the experience that may be lost for it could always be gained in much more preferable ways.

Never feel sad if I am not around when you would like me to be, or if reunions have long lengths of time between.  I would hate for you to forget what my face looks like, or to feel that I could do a million times better to stay in close contact.  I am always here, and I want you to feel that I am always there for you when you need me.  My friendship I strive to never break, and that forever it will remain warm & bright like those summer days we know so well.

E.M.A.

The Box

I stand on a point which shifts my views on the Box as it travels through time and space.  Most times my perception is looking onto the outer walls of the Box, the face of which will change my thoughts as shadows and light are cast upon them.  Other times I stand on a point within the Box, this is where I see all walls no matter where space has placed me.  When I stand from without I am limited to the number of sides I can place my gaze, yet this is where nothing seems to stay the same and what is reflected off the outer walls will change constantly.

The interior of the Box is very predictable as to what I'll see, and in most cases I find it rare to discover something new now that I have grown familiar with the contents.  I must say though that it has almost always stood true that I have found comfort within for I will only occasionally grow skeptical of what I see.  Anything out of place within the Box is usually due to what I bring into it from the outside, things of which can drastically change my perception.  These waves of changes will affect the interior but will not remain for long periods of time, the result of which will only add to my visions of the exterior.

The exterior of the Box is very unpredictable and will catch my mind by surprise without fail.  In most instances I am left with curiosity and wonder in what it is I see, but at times the shadows will simply fool me.  When wound up in questions due to my lack of knowledge in the things I see by looking outward, I can find myself feeling as if I were standing in pits as I struggle to understand and make sense of these things.  As uncomfortable as the outer points may seem it is due to this constant stretching of self and gazing beyond that keeps me alive.

The Box drifts through time and space without any destination or meaning.  I do not have any control as to whether I'd be standing inside or out, but perhaps I am yet to reach a time when I am able to do so.  There is no preference that I hold as to where I prefer to stand, and I think it's best to say that by having no choice I will discover much more.

E.M.A