Perez U. Hamilton

Perez U. Hamilton

It is always best to write out your emtions, or to choose some other healthy creative form of release for them. Everything I share will be in its raw form and the emotions and ideas will be in the like matter. Enjoy.

  • Perez U. Hamilton
    Published about a month ago
    I.F.I.D

    I.F.I.D

    I am not alive. I refuse to be in such a miserable state. However, if I am indeed alive, then someone please kill me. Worry not, for you will only kill my physical form. My soul was viscously slaughtered with grace for what seems like eons ago. I know for certain that there is little to no meaning to my existence. All that I do leads back to what I hate to love. If I’d only done it when the opportunity arose. When I had bravery in my heart. When fear was irrelevant. When the gift was wrapped in its original package the day it arrived, rather than beaten and battered like the form I have come to know today. How brutalized it has been. It’s splendor is no more. It is my own fault. To receive and merge with it was my only duty. Even in such a simple task I failed. These murky thoughts that I swim through like an anaconda through swamps are slimy. Grimy in every aspect, I do not hate this circumstance. Two words similar in more ways than one, how could one dislike the other? Plain bigotry in its purest form. As I breach the depths of my mind even further to continue searching for whatever it is I yearn for, I realize that I am at an impasse. I can go no further for I have reached that death inducing floor that I crept in eleven years ago. Only, back then it seemed more sinister. Perhaps that evil glow it once proudly withheld has dissipated and dissolved into naught. Or maybe...
  • Perez U. Hamilton
    Published about a month ago
    A.L.L

    A.L.L

    I must breathe. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. A shell of my formerly present self in the future. I admit what I am. However, do I accept what pain it has caused me? To be...lost? My essence is foregoing a metamorphosis of sorts. One that needs to cast out old data in order to make room for newer, better aspects. That sweet boy so many knew not too long ago, but also that so many did not know so long ago, has dissipated into the well of naught. This well might as well be a realm of unknown origin and meaning. None wish to discover its slanderously obscure secrets. It is too daunting a task. In order to even attempt to perceive its concept, you would need to have enough resolve to become completely careless. Is that why I live in this state of never ending demise? I surmise that my eyes see with only unholy truth. This is reality at its best, yet also at its worst. What must come first in order for me to pass this precarious test? Do I need to sacrifice more of my being in order to get back to what I long for? Or perhaps I need only to become vulnerable to the wickedly vulture like tendencies of what lurks in my midst. Such a sad occurrence that it seems I must undertake. It is necessary though right? I will be able to obtain what I have lost if I do so. I will be found if I do so. I will be me once I do so. I will be free once I do so. I will be in pain once I do so...
  • Perez U. Hamilton
    Published 2 months ago
    A.B.E.S

    A.B.E.S

    Why does every breath I take play tug of war with my tear ducts? Each tear that becomes a victor cries out for me to cease this existence. For what point does it have? This life full of such sorrow and grief. A boring life devoid of meaning and grandeur. A hapless life barren of love and truth. Why is it that only He offers me anything at all? Who will step up and make this claim false? Who will be willing to offer me more than something filled with naught? The steps leading to the throne are empty. The only thing one can muster the ability to hear are the echoes of silence. It bangs its drums so loudly to inform me that this is how my life is set out to be. No matter how much I attempt to run from it like my kin do from the swine, I find myself instead moonwalking towards it. My body’s natural reaction seems to be yearning for such a thing. I wish someone or something could turn my mind off. Empty it out please. Pour out my thoughts over a mountain so my sanity can be free from these cackling crows that mob it ever so voraciously. These same avian creatures that perform this vile action are the very same ones that use their grotesque maws to gnaw away at my heart. All of me is no more. I can no longer give that to any who search for it. I am in pieces. Shambles. Each one is not comparable to another; meaning that I can never be whole again. I must be comfortable and content with being split. I’m used to this heinous way of life though. I was bred and raised to be a professional. Nothing could affect me anymore. A statement I wish had as much truth as the lies I spew in the cauldron of conversation. Is this how life is for a poor King? If so, may I simply ponder as to why? Is a King not a position above others? One that has meaning, love, truth, and grandeur? One devoid of sorrow and grief? Or is it perhaps that this mighty position is advertised to be that way, but in all actuality is the way I’ve been living it out? This crown upon my head is damaged by its own thorns. The robes I don are tattered and have been spattered with depression. My scepter is brittle and riddled with peculiar demons of my past, present, and future. Even this throne I sit on is breaking off bit by bit. What a King I am. It seems as though peasantry would be more sublime than this graceful life. I hear them though. The peasants nay, rather the voices that keep me company. I follow their lead like a child chasing a will-o-wisp in the forbidden part of a forest. Amusing, for I am that being ever so obliviously naive and immature.
  • Perez U. Hamilton
    Published 2 months ago
    Paopu Fruit

    Paopu Fruit

    I dedicate this writing to the love of my life that has shown me a world previously unbeknownst to me before we locked eyes. I will love you forever my love, and without question.
  • Perez U. Hamilton
    Published 3 months ago
    C.U

    C.U

    I didn’t even need to be under the influence of a water vapor to lose myself. Under these pressed emotions it was enough to send me hurtling over that gloom inducing cliff. Before I was sent, I could feel myself tilt. Like a hangover, I hungover the edge of the fun that preceded me. Back to the fall, as such an action took place, the only thing that was harboring in my soul was the lust for silver. My love, not in relation to silver, your light had faded when the cliff’s great edge overtook it. Instead of shining over it, you simply walked away from the damnation that you knew would befall me as I fell. This sight I experienced from you had torn my heart even further than what was necessary. Yes, I knew that what had been done, and who I was at the moment of anger had hurt you. Yet to leave me to be fed upon by the demons that lurk in the murky water was no less than cruel. It was a duel to make myself believe I was not a tool. It seemed as if the air going against my epidermis was a material akin to wool. I felt like such a fool to allow Him to take over. That is after all what occurs during my fall. During this, a slew of emotions had flooded through my brain as silver etched itself into my will. It crept closer as I fell further. I could feel its heat emanate from below. I knew though, that if I were to take hold of it for too long, i would be consumed by blue. This in turn would unfortunately lead me back to red. Of course, I thought negatively of these circumstances behind the self placed prison bars in my mind. He mocked me as I tried to convince him to seek other means to deal with how we felt. He was deaf to my pleas. In relation, He somehow accelerated the fall, and before I knew it we had horridly collided with what had awaited us. The light shining so bright hypnotized me into believing that at the bottom of that dreadful fall was actually a saving grace. A sad mistake this was. For I should know that only dreadful depression and my old ways dare to lurk in these depths. Yet still I allowed my mind to be breached by this false grace. As we glared into it further, it soon started to take the form of an object all too familiar to us. A menacing aura is what it had gave off. However, under its spell I found this aura to be ever so pleasing. I could feel my hands befall it’s hilt. Its grip is still as I remember. Just the right fit for me to carry out the unforgivable act.
  • Perez U. Hamilton
    Published 3 months ago
    H.E

    H.E

    My blood moon hours occur in lonesome silence. When none are privy to my obscure actions. The darkest times for me these are. Yet sway from them I do not. Detached from this world I become, for my soul is bounded to or by none. Only when you are with me do I feel comforted and tamed. Otherwise I run rampant like a blood lusting vampire in the night. Ever seeking destruction of any form. I need my anchor, yet my anchor needs not me, but the company of its pleasures. Why is this occurrence so? Am I holding on to the anchor too much? Do I shroud it’s reflective light in my pitch black coat? Or maybe...