RenScott - Hello Poetry

When she was the one who loved me, she asked: "How can you be some calm?" Less of a question, more of an accusation, as all arguments possess. I found it interesting. I'm sure at the time my answer was melancholy Sad, even. In truth, I couldn't answer. Not properly. Not in the moment. The reason is simple. I think there is something inherently beautiful in being a person born from violence, rage, hatred. Evil. And through all of that being someone who until their last scrap patience will choose a path of calm, peaceful, gentle. Sadness. It is easier to be angry than it is to be sad. I would rather be sad than point the anger I bury at you.

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Jul 2, 2025

Jul 2, 2025 at 5:10 PM UTC

RenScott

Anger

When she was the one who loved me, she asked: "How can you be some calm?" Less of a question, more of an accusation, as all arguments possess. I found it interesting. I'm sure at the time my answer was melancholy Sad, even. In truth, I couldn't answer. Not properly. Not in the moment. The reason is simple. I think there is something inherently beautiful in being a person born from violence, rage, hatred. Evil. And through all of that being someone who until their last scrap patience will choose a path of calm, peaceful, gentle. Sadness. It is easier to be angry than it is to be sad. I would rather be sad than point the anger I bury at you.

32

Today I couldn't pull my thoughts from the time when you were her. Time is the enemy and nostalgia burned her sins away. And suddenly you, the embodiment of everything that I want were her again. I found you in the memories of limbs in limbs, the curve of her back against my finger. Your joy in her eyes, burning in my mind. History swirls through me; years of love and lust and passion. On. Off. Her And my heart aches. And my chest pulls in like the vacuum of space. Because you, my ethereal love, were never supposed to be her again.

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Jun 15, 2025

Jun 15, 2025 at 5:50 PM UTC

RenScott

Ethereal 1: Nostalgia

Today I couldn't pull my thoughts from the time when you were her. Time is the enemy and nostalgia burned her sins away. And suddenly you, the embodiment of everything that I want were her again. I found you in the memories of limbs in limbs, the curve of her back against my finger. Your joy in her eyes, burning in my mind. History swirls through me; years of love and lust and passion. On. Off. Her And my heart aches. And my chest pulls in like the vacuum of space. Because you, my ethereal love, were never supposed to be her again.

5

Please explain to me how I am to fit you within something As simple as yes or a no. You are complex Layered Perfect Imperfect. Your embracing affection is juxtaposed by this Searing coldness That flow together in A cocktail of contradiction. So yes And so yes, no.

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May 28, 2025

May 28, 2025 at 6:29 PM UTC

RenScott

And so yes, No.

Please explain to me how I am to fit you within something As simple as yes or a no. You are complex Layered Perfect Imperfect. Your embracing affection is juxtaposed by this Searing coldness That flow together in A cocktail of contradiction. So yes And so yes, no.

14

"Why poetry?" You asked The answer was immediate, as a flood. "Because words are my favourite method of creativity. As an artist, I learned there are over 16 million colours and no combination of any number of them will ever mean more than three short words. Of those sixteen million colours only one matters to me. The colour of your eyes; and no painting will ever mean more to me than 'I love you'." I said in reply.

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May 23, 2025

May 23, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC

RenScott

Why Poetry

"Why poetry?" You asked The answer was immediate, as a flood. "Because words are my favourite method of creativity. As an artist, I learned there are over 16 million colours and no combination of any number of them will ever mean more than three short words. Of those sixteen million colours only one matters to me. The colour of your eyes; and no painting will ever mean more to me than 'I love you'." I said in reply.

3

You didn't come today. Somewhere inside of me, that burned. But don't worry Tonight I'll **** that part of myself. That way tomorrow, I can see you, and I'll smile.

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May 23, 2025

May 23, 2025 at 2:05 PM UTC

RenScott

Smile

You didn't come today. Somewhere inside of me, that burned. But don't worry Tonight I'll **** that part of myself. That way tomorrow, I can see you, and I'll smile.

9