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 Aug 2018 Ryan Hoysan
Bee
hell is a place where
you constantly love those that
do not love you back.
 Jul 2018 Ryan Hoysan
wordvango
I guess
I'll go back to poetry
now that
the real thing is ending

It's hard to lose touch
when you finally found it
hard to imagine
being content
staring at computer eyes
and typing can never
replace her flesh and blood hand

yet the reality is we must part after meeting
so brief the moment
so unsweet the parting
I may write a poem full of tears
I may tear this **** keyboard apart

trying to make it all real once more
her feel her heart her love for me.
 Jul 2018 Ryan Hoysan
soliana
she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.
10:02 PM 5/1/2018
My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.
Thank you to anyone that reads this.
Here I am,
writing poems in a rainstorm
like I'm Poe or something.
I'd honestly rather be asleep,
now and most of the time.
Don't get me wrong,
I love poetry,
and I love rain,
and also I'm not depressed, I swear.
It's just I can't really
**** anything up
when I'm asleep.
But as soon as my eyes are open
(though not really open),
I start waging war on love
like it hurt me or something.
No,
when I'm asleep
I can only dream of it.
 Jul 2018 Ryan Hoysan
Joel M Frye
There are no more bad days.
There are moments
          of ingratitude
          of rage
          of self-pity
          of hatred.
Those do not last.
There are
          friends
          family
          caregivers
          kind strangers.
These are evergreens.
Bad moments need not
become bad days.
The song of life
plays on between them.
The cancer has returned.  I will begin treatment later this month.  Thank you to my many friends here for your continued support.
 Jun 2018 Ryan Hoysan
Semicolon
Hey mom-dad, listen.
Hit me, hate me, throw me out,
But don't shut me up.
My dear mom, my dear dad,
Please listen to me talk.
You're the place where I can unveil myself and be true to who I am.
You're the place where I can pour my heart out and expect to be heard.
You're the place I want to spend my life talking and being heard.
Please don't tell me to shut up
Because I talk too much,
Because no one likes what I speak,
Because I talk *******,
Because no one would listen to me,
Because I need to stay silent sometimes,
Because nobody likes the stories I have to tell,
Please don't tell me to shut up,
Just because that's what I need to do.
Listen to me.
Please.
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