Breaking water, diving in with my body, head first.
Rippling seams and leaving stitches unfinished. I dive in to let the purity envelop me. Cleanse me and my pores,
return me to where I started from.
Release me from wars, unopened doors I wished I turned. Forget wounds of battle on my skin.
Open me.cut me open and leave me bleeding. Let my blood sink into the earth until there is nothing left, let me walk this earth for miles and miles, let me feel the pain in my lungs and the hoarseness of
my being escaping from my throat. Let me build a moat around my princess castle and then tear it down. Lightning strike me and rip my particles, rip the matter from me like guns on glass. Crack me and tear me. I will get up again.
I will rise.
And Let me sing,
sing until my prayers are whispers.
Forest water, reflecting green, serenity.
I have dreams of black claws like raven glass closing in, scratching me bare. Howling and deep long nails and witchy eyes cackling like the darkness overlapping. I’m scared of the demons within closing in. I hide from the light, unaware of how I’m blocking out love from my life. Is it a dream or an old queen’s tale? My heart has seen so much and now I walk like wind or stones in snow. I trudge along trying to remain strong when the forces pull and tear the ramshackle down to the ground.
I’ve been breathing and living, seeing so many things and this compilation of stories warms my belly and tears my flesh.The happiness is what breaks me. Suspending the never-ending. I am so close to the grave that I dug for myself but I must keep walking past that linear line that I set for myself. It is lines within circles. So many flows, I thought I chose the whole. Breathe. Pouring myself out into you. I wonder if I give and give it will fade into the soil and the canteen will empty. Melt like water. Feed you and leave me. Is it releasing or is it unhealthy for me to give myself away.
I gave myself away.
I have strewn pieces of myself into everything I have touched but I am afraid that one day there will be nothing left. Nothing left when finally I receive pieces of someone else. Will I take the pieces from them and have nothing left to share. Excuse me, it is not like me to be so dramatic and I am afraid to write things like this because it feels so cheesy except the process of seeking deeper is breaking that boundary and that un-comfortableness. Where did our love go? It existed between the skin and the bones. It was a facade or something else. I am not very sure. Not lust but colour, it was dewy green like steam from a coffee cup in the morning. Or the rain on the window pane while I slept in your arms and refrained from needing you too much, I cannot write about you without tears, write about your skin or your smile, and I am in a confined environment as I write this where such things are not very acceptable. I am hiding on the screen, escaping my heart. I cried this morning because it was all too perfect.
I am cut open I suppose. Like that song “And it was your heart on the line / I really fucked it up this time / Didn't I, my dear?” Mumford and Sons even feels too perfectly imperfect that I laugh at myself and this funny hole I am in. I don’t like the swear word though, sometimes I laugh because it works. The “f” word in that song it just kind of fits. It is like the pathetic-ness and the hilarity, when we slip in mud and are covered in filth when we have nothing left but to cry and to laugh because we are crying because nothing in this world really matters or it matters all too much. Because I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t think anybody does. We just muster our determination and passion and roll with it but still there is an element of unpredictability no matter how routine we have gotten. No matter how far we have fallen from our roots. Excuse me for crying this morning, don’t worry I laughed it off after. I laughed because of life and laughed because I cried, and I cried because I love you.
And now I walk like wind or stones in snow. I trudge on with all my strength. Wisping like whispers caught from the ears of children and passing through the world. Cold like ice on swing sets and little hands clasping them. Red fingers and red noses. Snot on mittens and sharp pain. Winter.
I Wisp like wind in water. I crack like stones of sand and rock. I break like waves on the shores of life. I cry like the trees at night. Howling to the moon. I open when you call me. I close when I’m falling. I hide like children at night. I am under the streetlight, orange, alley cats in shadow homes and grey cement, dead rats, broken bones. My eyes are bare, sunken in the light. I suppose I should muster my might. Find peace beyond my fight. Escape distress. I wish you saw something more. I wish that there was something else. Speeding on.
Words wither in the air
as silence slithers between us.
The waves wash over where we sat
as rigid rocks cut water raw.
A seagulls silhouette splayed across the sky
carries a creature so soon to be crushed.
A hermit hiding in his home
pops up out of his puddle,
fleeing back when a feather flutters down
nearly nicking his new shell.
The day grows dark and dim
as rain runs down the rustling leaves.
Light house lights litter the night
showing sheltered shadows.
A bush bows to the blustering breeze,
as the smell of the salty sea settles.
While choppy waters churn violently
when wind whips around us.
Droplets tip toeing across the tide
visibly vibrant than vanishing.
The boats buckle under the beatings
as docks drown diving under desolate waters.
We walk away wincing,
at the last glance at the grey grizzly night.
I like the rain
I truly do (!)
But it makes me
Struggling to keep pace
The rain above us
Merely a light drizzle,
Infinitely not enough.
Side by side,
To retrieve a lost boy,
The rain above us,
In just the wrong moment.
And the nausea
And the ache in my chest
I want the rain
By my side.
Running into yet another soft eyes and open lips
Trying to magically feel something more than what exists
Running into yet another guys arms that seem so genuine from afar
He really likes me brought me my 3rd drink tonight
He's tryna tap that...
Intellectual portrait that I have painted of myself
Running into yet another false hope of maybe this one is different
He can't hurt me unless I allow him to
penetrate parts that haven't been discussed
This feels so right
Running into yet another, "your the most special girl I've met" "wouldn't ever hurt you" line
Just to be spoon fed leftovers from
the previous drunken night
Or the alcohol soaked on a pink moist thick tongue
Running into yet another clear dream... (I can see clearer now the rain is gone)
Love songs no longer play because he has taken me to a fantasy land from Saturdays night rerun of a previous session
Picture perfect perfection precious pleasing.
Please don't stop because maybe you have tuned in to the right channel
Running into yet another guys lap saying I will dance for you and only you... And maybe him and only him.
Because words have become so cliche and I no longer can count how many arms have squeezed me firmly but have released quicker.
How many lips have accepted my open invitation to stay the night within
How many eyes I have let pierce my soul but to no avail,
they get what they want and dissolve.
No satisfaction, no guaranteed refunds of that stuff he left with
No mental pictures left of what ifs or possibilities of US being more than just lust
A must of endless considerations and my ridiculous thoughts of actually
Running into the same web of deceit deception.
So many descriptions of how I ran away from myself and have been searching nonstop for the right sensation that can stop the temptations and erase the emptiness.
Floating along the rippling waters
atop a lily pad had sprout
the delicate buds of my daughters
awaiting the breeze, leading to me
With time the winds blew
they blossomed into my heart
their vibrant colours shone through
forever imprinting onto my soul
They are my sun rise
with rays of sparkling light
emanating from their brown eyes
to the dimples of their smile
My solace through the rain
a lasting velvet embrace
makes me breath with ease again
for within my arms, they are my air
Beautiful petals formed of me
though they have now bloomed
I will always still see
the delicate buds, of my lilies.
Sitting on the curb, I wait
the light within me quenched
to live or die, is what I debate
as rain falls, my body drenched
Unseen, by the people walking past
that are unaware of my intention
these strangers to whom I contrast
unknowing of my need, for intervention
Depressions rain, drips down my face
I search for happy thoughts
within my mind, the past I retrace
as I come up with blank lonely spots
No joy has ever touched upon me
a walk off the curb, digs my grave
gone from this world, an escapee
a depressed soul, you couldn't save.
She's everything to me.
She's my light in the dark, my shelter from the rain, my warmth from everything that's cold in this world.
But through the frustration and the anger and sadness.. All I am ever thinking about is how much I love her.
How much she means to me.
All the moments that I've had with her;
hearing her heartbeat for the first time;
holding her while she cried, while she held my scars in her lovely hands;
watching her rest and seeing her smile so beautifully while she slept..
That makes it all worth it.
Everyday I see her,
Everyday I get to hug her for that one moment,
makes it all worth it.
There is so much I need to say to her.
So much that I wish I could explain so she could see what she is to me.
I can't ever lose her.
She must never go from me or leave me.
I couldn't handle life.
She is my life.
She is everything good and beautiful and heavenly in this world.
She's my world, my everything.
And I will never leave her side.
I thank God everyday for her and ask that He keeps her happy and safe.
I hope she loves me forever.
Because I love every part of her.
My best friend.
I love her forever.. .
The rain is falling glass
Shattering from the angels' eyes
They hit the ground in shards they splash
And if you look close enough you'll find a reflection of lies
The unwashable wounds of problems past
Awaken the demons that gush your logic out of mind
Half-remembering telling yourself that last time was the last
But everyone dances with the devil when they've been left behind
Something sharp, subtle pain, screams at the edge of the glass shards
And the angels cry their silent pleas that your deafened ears refuse to hear
A blinding reflection of white light (maybe white lies) stun your mind's composure guards
While the devil comes out to play in the glass rain, turning spatters into basalt ashes of burnt-out fears.
If we lived in a non-judgmental world,
where social norm were a blank slate
free of preconceptions and expectations,
a world in which it was traditional to be liberal,
what would you do?
Would you work this hard or drive fast cars?
Would you read 50 Shades of Grey in the train?
Would you still cry in the rain?
Would you be outgoing or spend more time alone?
Would you laugh at funerals and never mourn?
Would you wear your pyjamas for Sunday mass?
Would you identify yourself with the working class?
Would you use two forks or wear socks with flip flops?
Would you avoid dating jocks?
Would you take up smoking or marry young?
Would you tattoo your face and pierce your tongue?
Would you work as a stripper whilst being a nun?
Would you form a jihad against wars and guns?
Would you become straight, forget how to pray
or wish your first born son were gay?
Would you ever fake an orgasm
or admit you like it rough?
Would you follow the stars and lucky charms
leaving all life's decisions to luck?
Would you believe in evolution and gravity,
or argue we're heavy people with sticky feet?
Would you avoid salad or order tofu?
Would you try to go up a dress size or two?
Would you give to charity or take up a sport?
Would you sell your house and by a boat?
Would you order expensive wines or
write poems that did not rhyme?
What would you do?
Perhaps you simply wouldn't have a clue,
for we appear to have forgotten how to be true.
So when ever a Miley comes like a wrecking ball
we unite to share our disbelief and loathe.
As we did to Snowden and Jesus Christ,
we mock and torture and crucify.
The UN, CIA and the Vatican unite,
to teach us how to lead our lives.
For when someone somewhere breaks a norm
that someone somewhere has formed
it has become a universal priority
for the former to be conformed.
Perhaps in this non-judgmental world,
we might decide to start judging each other...
This is Sydney
It keeps signing me in as you
So I decided to write this poem
Roses are red
Violets are blue
My name is Sydney Rain
And I love you