She gave me a necklace, and in my hand I held more love then I had ever touched with bare skin. I wore it like chains, and every second was wretched.
Her love pressed into the skin of my neck and I couldn't speak until I had ripped it off with my bare hands bleeding and torn. When she saw the shattered silver she asked me why I hated love. I didn't have an answer, so I stayed.
She fixed the necklace and my fingernails turned to dust on its chain, and each time she asked me why I hated love. I didn't have an answer, so I stayed.
Over time the necklace rusted and I rusted too. Links became skin, and lockets turned bone, and she didn't need to fix the necklace. She still asked me why I hated love. I didn't have an answer, so I stayed.
Three years later, when a stranger cut the sickened metal from my neck, I asked him how love could be so choking.
He held my hand, and while we walked away he told me, with a smile full of scars, that the necklace wasn't love.
Feb 11, 2020
Feb 11, 2020 at 11:43 PM UTC
I seem to have convinced myself,
that if understand my fear I can save myself from it.
What a foolish notion.
My naivety has led me for too long,
and I have forgotten what cruelty gave me breath.
Yet so is the nature of this world.
Cloaked in our pride we gaze out with hopeful eyes,
but only the hopeful become the ******
in a place like ours.
And ****** shall I be,
****** to believe hell could be any worse
then the hell we're living.
Yes, I have forgotten the cruelty.
As my lungs inflate I remember,
just for a moment,
how it felt to breathe without pain.
I may have forgotten the cruelty,
but I remember life without end and a stretching sky.
A place where God was real,
and angels were just people.
Our sun is too bright,
it hides the hell from our eyes.
For is our stretching sky truly blue
or is there fire just beyond the reach of our sight?
Yes we have forgotten the cruelty.
After all,
we call sunsets beautiful.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
Oh how terrible is she,
who strums eternity's strings.
Painful and stuck she gazes up with eyes like immortality.
She goes by many names,
God, Fate, Luck.
but she is a stranger to any who call her such.
Burdened with wisdom,
she weaves chorus and verse.
A lullaby.
Sung to the unborn universe swimming in her gut.
Understanding every life is just a war that hasn’t been fought yet.
And every death,
is peace.
Oh how terrible is she,
who strums eternity's strings.
Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 6:10 PM UTC
The moment that changed everything was, at best,
unremarkable.
It was empty and plain,
pale when set beside life's great saturation.
However, within this subtle shift,
something important happened.
Now, important things happen all the time,
but this one was different.
This one meant something.
Because I saw it.
Unremarkable, empty, plain, pale, and subtle,
but still there.
A weak force.
Gravity, in modern physics,
is a weak force.
Likewise this moment was weak,
but it was gravity.
It tore my life from its standing
and all at once I was new.
For a fleeting moment I was a witness.
A witness to who I could be,
who we all could be.
Then the path before me opened,
and I saw the world
for the first time.
Opportunities I thought were gone were not,
places I thought I could not go I did.
And now I understand.
I understand,
that moments do not have to be remarkable,
to change everything.
Sep 14, 2017
Sep 14, 2017 at 10:32 PM UTC
a contract of souls
breaches the world of the living.
a new kind of love
conquers the greatest separation
and she smiles and says
"they are with me"
Jun 30, 2017
Jun 30, 2017 at 2:50 PM UTC
I live in a world of pre decided.
I have already been studied
my future is guided
I enter a world of people who have
graphed my thoughts.
A world where the new generation
is just a producers figmentation
A baneful balance of
who they were
and who we are to be.
How do I compete with a list of facts
that determine my personality?
The dystopian novelty is not lost on me.
But I will not concede
I do not have to be what they need
I am free to build a symphony of options
and no matter what your webpage says
"I do not live in a world of pre decided"
-Raen
Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC
Sure
It's easy to see broken clocks
aren't ticking
but I prefer broken people
Clocks get stuck
in their last instant
At least people keep on living
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
We all speak the same language
but communication is dead.
A barrier of understanding
built from graphite and lead.
An impasse of meaning
wreaks havoc in our heads.
We all speak the same language
yet,
I don't know what you said.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 1:46 PM UTC
Inspiration in life
is a bit like thunder at night
A rather loud reminder that
the world doesn't care
if you're sleeping.
Jun 2, 2017
Jun 2, 2017 at 1:13 PM UTC
Sometimes I want to scream, break, and cry
tearing out hair, wailing; begging to die.
Sometimes I want to curse, yell, and divide
sick of hiding in night; my brilliance passed by.
Sometimes I want to shine, a different kind of bright
stuck among shadows; thieves of my light.
But at the end of the day; I let that all go,
there's no use dwelling on "I could but I don't".
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 8:45 PM UTC