Mackenzie Senjou's Archive

Ghost in Pages 

Is a year too short? I think it is.

Maybe, I’ll love you longer than knowing you. 

You are close to me, your name scattered in places I’ll be in. 

If a stage is given to me, all my words are dedicated to you.

Like a divine muse, you are present in every work. 

A ghost haunting every page I’ve written on. 

We pass by each other, unknowing glances exchanged. 

Do you even know my name? 

You are my life, whilst I’m nothing but a moment.

Passing Seasons

I’m left in a corner of a hidden street, unmoving.

I wait for something bigger than this world.

I wait for you in the heat of the summer and in the coldness of winter.

I stay in our rendezvous, a secret only us and the heavens know.

I count the seconds, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades,

And if you would let me count ‘till a century,

Then I will—like the passing seasons.

A Mortal Creator

My hands are made for creation.

I stare at the letters floating on the screen.

Give me a sign that I’m capable of doing something good,

Something revolutionary, something alive, something I cannot be.

My existence are words I write.

A part of me that won’t get destroyed by anybody,

A part that’s mine and mine only.

In the morning where I stand just like everybody else,

I calmly go back to the darkness as someone who will never exist again.

When I die, don’t let me get buried deep into the ground,

Bury me in your heart where I have always yearned to belong.

My Promise, not broken.

So let me do this one.

A peculiar thing, from a peculiar person.

Tell me your dreams molded after me; and I'll make mine.

You are the person I once were, but I see the twinkle in your eyes.

I'll shall never let you down; the fool who trusts the liar.

Believe in me once, and I'll give you my promise—never to be broken.

Crawling back to you.

And I find myself clutching on the soil as I crawl. 

Dirt under my fingernails.

I feel so small under you, yet I’ll always come back 

My hands are bruised and my face is dirtied 

Grant me with your grace. 

Touch me once again and I’ll be happy for an eternity. 

‘Till then I’ll be crawling, crawling back to you. 

Always

You are the abode.

Journeys have become torturous, knowing I’d leave you.

Hold me amidst the calm and the storm,

I have always held you.

You are the only right in the ocean of my wrongs.

Proof of my existence, personification of love.

Person of affection.

I’m yours, always.

Burnout 

It should feel like the warmth of a blanket on a winter night. 

A warm wind to comfort our souls,

But I'm burnt out. 

I was consumed by the flames until I was nothing but ashes. 

And I looked at me or did I look at an abomination? 

Derived of form, derived of essence, derived of thought. 

I'm reduced to ashes, to be blown away by the wind. 

But I love the flame, I'd be on fire again if I was given the chance. 

Movement

Honey, you call me to dare. 

Dare to dream, dare to do. 

You pull me into chaos, 

Yet euphoria fills me when I do it with you. 

Drag me to wherever you are. 

Let me shield you from the hurt. 

Let me warm you in the cold. 

You are my life's destination. 

Take me in, whole. 

I offer my life at your feet. 

Flight of the Chicken 

I look up.

It's free to dream, I must get out of the coop.

Ran with my helpless feet.

My pathetic wings flapped, lifted me up.

I saw the coop as little as a grain.

Glanced at the world I must leave.

And the cold breeze hit. Clouds in my vision.

Fleeting ecstasy, white is all I see.

I lay down, pulled by gravity.

Wetted my wings, it’s getting hard to breathe.

Talking to Icarus, let me fly to a tree.

I must fight to flee.