cyan-tendency - Hello Poetry

You held the dreams I had for my happiness like a swallow's egg in your outstretched hand. The bird is happy, flitting where it will but knowing where home is A home built together a home that is safe. How you stand with the yellow-rich yolk slowly dripping, and albumen sliding and all that is fertile and promises and future crushed in a single impulsive spasm. Your heart hid your secrets which kept the bird coming back and the tricks that kept her feeling safe are shoddy and cruel in the light of day. Now, she knows.

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Aug 15, 2013

Aug 15, 2013 at 8:14 PM UTC

At the Border of Then

You held the dreams I had for my happiness like a swallow's egg in your outstretched hand. The bird is happy, flitting where it will but knowing where home is A home built together a home that is safe. How you stand with the yellow-rich yolk slowly dripping, and albumen sliding and all that is fertile and promises and future crushed in a single impulsive spasm. Your heart hid your secrets which kept the bird coming back and the tricks that kept her feeling safe are shoddy and cruel in the light of day. Now, she knows.

15

Heart of mine you ache ****** truth-teller be silent. As I lie here alone with my spirit flailing wildly normalcy and whatshouldbe hold a pillow and smother its breath. **** opressors they are everywhere they're in marriage and picketfence but some cellular drive made me leave you for them. I want you so physically and cry out in pain as my heart begs and pleads for the one that it loves. I need you you know me my mirrortwin, completely Never have I been so naked as I am beneath your gaze I look into a liquid reflection that adores me, ether, bone. I have simple words only now they squeeze out of me bloodied bullets I wince as I extract them my gutless runner's high of a promise of security wears off now and I notice and I notice and I notice the pistol lying comfortably in my own hand. Oh! my love! I feel I'm dying. You were beauty...... On the wind now the warm, bitter wind you are gone.

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Aug 14, 2013

Aug 14, 2013 at 6:08 PM UTC

The Frailty Of The Cherry Blossom

Heart of mine you ache ****** truth-teller be silent. As I lie here alone with my spirit flailing wildly normalcy and whatshouldbe hold a pillow and smother its breath. **** opressors they are everywhere they're in marriage and picketfence but some cellular drive made me leave you for them. I want you so physically and cry out in pain as my heart begs and pleads for the one that it loves. I need you you know me my mirrortwin, completely Never have I been so naked as I am beneath your gaze I look into a liquid reflection that adores me, ether, bone. I have simple words only now they squeeze out of me bloodied bullets I wince as I extract them my gutless runner's high of a promise of security wears off now and I notice and I notice and I notice the pistol lying comfortably in my own hand. Oh! my love! I feel I'm dying. You were beauty...... On the wind now the warm, bitter wind you are gone.

45

Bruised. Left and right, top and bottom, Inside and out. I survived that hellish tsunami of pain that, flying like a 18-wheeler with cut brakes on spiteful repeat wrung my mind and emotions to alternating panic and zombie-like numbness. Funny how bruises blossom in different ways; your betrayal, so deep, sends up saplings to sting me at the most inopportune, unpredictable times. I thought I was immune now, Enough brushes against the anemone sufficient tapering of the drugs of anger and regret And I was sure, sobbing alone, in the bathtub, done. .

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Jun 10, 2013

Jun 10, 2013 at 6:29 AM UTC

Vespertine

Bruised. Left and right, top and bottom, Inside and out. I survived that hellish tsunami of pain that, flying like a 18-wheeler with cut brakes on spiteful repeat wrung my mind and emotions to alternating panic and zombie-like numbness. Funny how bruises blossom in different ways; your betrayal, so deep, sends up saplings to sting me at the most inopportune, unpredictable times. I thought I was immune now, Enough brushes against the anemone sufficient tapering of the drugs of anger and regret And I was sure, sobbing alone, in the bathtub, done. .

19

Ya couldn't call me restless but nah, ya couldn't call me lucid either Floating on a benzo-pretty philharmonic cloud. Sharp bitey thinglings softened they swim backward in confusion and this Kwan Yin, floating freely leaves them gasping on the sand. She regards dark circles, smiling She regards her injuries, smiling She regards her troubles, smiling All around, a pinkish haze Nay, the chemicals won't will trip her catch her painted skirt and tear silk to be jolted from her reverie is never to be told. This she knows, but now she floats for she must have tangible proof... that Reality is not real and the text is set in BOLD. 00.11.6539

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Jun 10, 2013

Jun 10, 2013 at 6:25 AM UTC

Lorazepam 50

Ya couldn't call me restless but nah, ya couldn't call me lucid either Floating on a benzo-pretty philharmonic cloud. Sharp bitey thinglings softened they swim backward in confusion and this Kwan Yin, floating freely leaves them gasping on the sand. She regards dark circles, smiling She regards her injuries, smiling She regards her troubles, smiling All around, a pinkish haze Nay, the chemicals won't will trip her catch her painted skirt and tear silk to be jolted from her reverie is never to be told. This she knows, but now she floats for she must have tangible proof... that Reality is not real and the text is set in BOLD. 00.11.6539

21

There's a small vice on my heart that you turned incrementally since the day we kissed Always there was space to manoeuvre wriggle a gap to shift around in and say, 'That's better' to comfortably fool myself that I was not caught. But now, my dear.... Now the grip leaves me gasping and that metal feels cold and I cannot ignore it. The trouble is I kissed your elegant, beautiful face and I guided your hand to that vice in my chest and enveloped your fingers with mine We turned those keys together. I was so enamoured and I wanted your love. I told myself I could get out at any time. Too late, my love It was always too late For we're kindred souls across lifestyles and lifetimes and my body knows yours like the taste of my tears. I resign myself, then, to bleeding. I resign thee to Fate and what she may decide knowing only that never shall I be your jailor. I refuse to allow that wild tempest soul to be anything but free. I am happy to be caught. Though I writhe with this pain and slumber eludes me in my misery. For one thing I have realised is the depth of my cowardice. Although yours came out as tenored and trembling you still had the bravery to speak the words emblazoned on your heart the ones that threatened to fall from your lips as my head lay perfectly in situ against your collarbone and my heartbeat and breathing lined up with yours in our quiet symbiosis at 3 a.m. I danced around the words flitted lightly, noncommittal and said 'I think I'm falling in love with you', which was a lie. You are far braver than I and to this day I've run but you deserve far greater than that which I have meted out to you. You deserve honesty. You deserve the breadth and depth of what my heart aches to tell you though I am frightened beyond words that the vice can go no tighter. I love you.

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May 25, 2013

May 25, 2013 at 9:30 AM UTC

I Never Said I Love You

There's a small vice on my heart that you turned incrementally since the day we kissed Always there was space to manoeuvre wriggle a gap to shift around in and say, 'That's better' to comfortably fool myself that I was not caught. But now, my dear.... Now the grip leaves me gasping and that metal feels cold and I cannot ignore it. The trouble is I kissed your elegant, beautiful face and I guided your hand to that vice in my chest and enveloped your fingers with mine We turned those keys together. I was so enamoured and I wanted your love. I told myself I could get out at any time. Too late, my love It was always too late For we're kindred souls across lifestyles and lifetimes and my body knows yours like the taste of my tears. I resign myself, then, to bleeding. I resign thee to Fate and what she may decide knowing only that never shall I be your jailor. I refuse to allow that wild tempest soul to be anything but free. I am happy to be caught. Though I writhe with this pain and slumber eludes me in my misery. For one thing I have realised is the depth of my cowardice. Although yours came out as tenored and trembling you still had the bravery to speak the words emblazoned on your heart the ones that threatened to fall from your lips as my head lay perfectly in situ against your collarbone and my heartbeat and breathing lined up with yours in our quiet symbiosis at 3 a.m. I danced around the words flitted lightly, noncommittal and said 'I think I'm falling in love with you', which was a lie. You are far braver than I and to this day I've run but you deserve far greater than that which I have meted out to you. You deserve honesty. You deserve the breadth and depth of what my heart aches to tell you though I am frightened beyond words that the vice can go no tighter. I love you.

50

Why the belated savagery? Why pierce my flesh, perchance to bleed? On precipice high my principles already leak down my shirt and drip from golden-bangled wrists to paint the ledge in leaky watercolors of loss. Numbness, is that all we want? we freeze our brows, and beating hearts so none may dare to show inflection, Or galloping strides of untamed lust much less the small, sweet, flickering Love that sits, whitefeathered, in that gilded cage Oh, sweet she hums, her plumage falling as hopes of freedom slip away. Oh, cruel is passing time Oh, fate; how idle you creep by, and then I wake in fervour, nightmare-hot His gaze has passed me by at last I should have silenced all my cracks and filled in flaws with repartee and been undamaged Demeter rich flowing harvest, aglow with life oh, shame to wither to that dark of day. .....We wish for deliverance, grant it Us; for what good are we, as faded cloth? None wish to sew the fantasy tapestry on patches, holes and crinkled past You must not show these embarrassments and so the poison is paid for gladly and so you never know our fear and so; the eyes will linger longer and so we hold our Place, still here.

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Mar 30, 2013

Mar 30, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC

Neurotoxin

Why the belated savagery? Why pierce my flesh, perchance to bleed? On precipice high my principles already leak down my shirt and drip from golden-bangled wrists to paint the ledge in leaky watercolors of loss. Numbness, is that all we want? we freeze our brows, and beating hearts so none may dare to show inflection, Or galloping strides of untamed lust much less the small, sweet, flickering Love that sits, whitefeathered, in that gilded cage Oh, sweet she hums, her plumage falling as hopes of freedom slip away. Oh, cruel is passing time Oh, fate; how idle you creep by, and then I wake in fervour, nightmare-hot His gaze has passed me by at last I should have silenced all my cracks and filled in flaws with repartee and been undamaged Demeter rich flowing harvest, aglow with life oh, shame to wither to that dark of day. .....We wish for deliverance, grant it Us; for what good are we, as faded cloth? None wish to sew the fantasy tapestry on patches, holes and crinkled past You must not show these embarrassments and so the poison is paid for gladly and so you never know our fear and so; the eyes will linger longer and so we hold our Place, still here.

33

Molecular tales, these wiles of mine; amygdala soaked in weeks of wine will only function half the time. And fears, in-fight-or-flight response are jaded flickers only, now arousal first, aggression next you cannot choose the ones betwixt your memories peeling, still unfixed. Life's luxuries cannot soothe that sting And soon your troubled nerves won't fire Silks and satins won't mean anything And countless women not suffice The contrast between cloth and skin will blur to numbed-out Braille and ice But you sir; still insist on this- To drown yourself in every vice. You may go out in fire yet If one day all becomes too much I wonder if you've passed that gate The one marked 'Point of No Return' And if you saw it, smiled and waved or felt a pang of hostility or sadness, pure futility...... I cannot save you, no-one can; I'll not be your last gluttony And thus I submit my defeat- The impotence of this soliloquy.

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Feb 16, 2013

Feb 16, 2013 at 2:58 AM UTC

Burning Out

Molecular tales, these wiles of mine; amygdala soaked in weeks of wine will only function half the time. And fears, in-fight-or-flight response are jaded flickers only, now arousal first, aggression next you cannot choose the ones betwixt your memories peeling, still unfixed. Life's luxuries cannot soothe that sting And soon your troubled nerves won't fire Silks and satins won't mean anything And countless women not suffice The contrast between cloth and skin will blur to numbed-out Braille and ice But you sir; still insist on this- To drown yourself in every vice. You may go out in fire yet If one day all becomes too much I wonder if you've passed that gate The one marked 'Point of No Return' And if you saw it, smiled and waved or felt a pang of hostility or sadness, pure futility...... I cannot save you, no-one can; I'll not be your last gluttony And thus I submit my defeat- The impotence of this soliloquy.

28

Dwelling is a razor regret, drip-fed poison guilt, a creaking chain as it tightens around my neck. Stockholm syndrome has me in that lovelifedeath grip. And as my own jailer I rail against myself Caught in a purgatory- safe drawing blood then consoling. I can't see........ My corneas tear in the wind there's some metaphysical connection, I know it I don't want to look at my life as it is The guilt twists my guts I'm pathetic in my failures and grasping at a fading light. Ah perfectionism, my abusive lover; you endow me such power, then beat me senseless I'm goddess, then mortal- panicking frail with nowhere but elusive horizons to go. Phosphenes those bright spots of colour as I rub my eyes- Once again I wake too early and that too-familiar cyanide starts to leak through my veins and anxiety grips me How'll I ever get it right make it out fix it all come out from under breathesucceedrelaxenjoybeworthsomething in short has my bright patch of colour had its day? I can't face it.

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Jan 31, 2013

Jan 31, 2013 at 3:57 AM UTC

Phosphene

Dwelling is a razor regret, drip-fed poison guilt, a creaking chain as it tightens around my neck. Stockholm syndrome has me in that lovelifedeath grip. And as my own jailer I rail against myself Caught in a purgatory- safe drawing blood then consoling. I can't see........ My corneas tear in the wind there's some metaphysical connection, I know it I don't want to look at my life as it is The guilt twists my guts I'm pathetic in my failures and grasping at a fading light. Ah perfectionism, my abusive lover; you endow me such power, then beat me senseless I'm goddess, then mortal- panicking frail with nowhere but elusive horizons to go. Phosphenes those bright spots of colour as I rub my eyes- Once again I wake too early and that too-familiar cyanide starts to leak through my veins and anxiety grips me How'll I ever get it right make it out fix it all come out from under breathesucceedrelaxenjoybeworthsomething in short has my bright patch of colour had its day? I can't face it.

41

The rain's been relentless I've been soaked for two days the wind blowing sideways Unavoidable fray Cold to bone, I run bathwater too hot to handle Want to sweat it all out, and to run myself pure Pale steam 'round me rising, obscuring the candles and thoughts of you run though my head, like a lure. My clothes lie bedraggled, cast here on the floor kindling flashbacks of searching for mine in your room fully dressed again, kindly you'd showed me the door and I left, leaving heartstrings caught up in your loom. So here I am, aching so here I am, tired so here I am, glad for the perfume you left So here I am, hopeless I'm mystified, following bright flashing memories, indeliberate gifts. How can it be, chest cavity filling with sorrow What small sweetened curse did you drip in my heart? Chemicals mine, and chemicals foreign weave conundrums of pain as your next work of art. I loathe to think you've one resentment against me Did I clarify all clamoured in heart and head? moth to flame, I remember you hate them, don't hate me but also, remember- they all end up dead. You'll never know, just what a blessing our time was Precious stone, as you know are important to me I am that Roman candle, actinic in pearls my fog soon in passing, and I will be free. So please, don't let too much dust cover our glow Synchronicitous, meant to be, beautiful, rare Something splendid as that, should be held in the heart Hands of time have a tendency- obscure and tear. so here I am, peaceful so here I am, salient the memories of your arms around me, your chest so here I'm imagining your face before me how perfect our moments Thankyou, lover; I'm blessed.

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Jan 27, 2013

Jan 27, 2013 at 8:56 AM UTC

Dust-covered Glow (So Here I Am)

The rain's been relentless I've been soaked for two days the wind blowing sideways Unavoidable fray Cold to bone, I run bathwater too hot to handle Want to sweat it all out, and to run myself pure Pale steam 'round me rising, obscuring the candles and thoughts of you run though my head, like a lure. My clothes lie bedraggled, cast here on the floor kindling flashbacks of searching for mine in your room fully dressed again, kindly you'd showed me the door and I left, leaving heartstrings caught up in your loom. So here I am, aching so here I am, tired so here I am, glad for the perfume you left So here I am, hopeless I'm mystified, following bright flashing memories, indeliberate gifts. How can it be, chest cavity filling with sorrow What small sweetened curse did you drip in my heart? Chemicals mine, and chemicals foreign weave conundrums of pain as your next work of art. I loathe to think you've one resentment against me Did I clarify all clamoured in heart and head? moth to flame, I remember you hate them, don't hate me but also, remember- they all end up dead. You'll never know, just what a blessing our time was Precious stone, as you know are important to me I am that Roman candle, actinic in pearls my fog soon in passing, and I will be free. So please, don't let too much dust cover our glow Synchronicitous, meant to be, beautiful, rare Something splendid as that, should be held in the heart Hands of time have a tendency- obscure and tear. so here I am, peaceful so here I am, salient the memories of your arms around me, your chest so here I'm imagining your face before me how perfect our moments Thankyou, lover; I'm blessed.

42

You're gone. It's my fault. I'm deadened. la lumiere it's gone I'm bereft. the choice to fan the ember to blazing flame was there I ran I'm empty. match-perfect, close to narcissism I can pretend we were torn apart by Fate it is I who did the tearing we're deleted. I'm a coward oh, mon chéri seul please find in your heart to forgive me. You're perfect but poison I'm nine-tenths to numb Don't forget me.

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Jan 23, 2013

Jan 23, 2013 at 7:32 PM UTC

Deleted

You're gone. It's my fault. I'm deadened. la lumiere it's gone I'm bereft. the choice to fan the ember to blazing flame was there I ran I'm empty. match-perfect, close to narcissism I can pretend we were torn apart by Fate it is I who did the tearing we're deleted. I'm a coward oh, mon chéri seul please find in your heart to forgive me. You're perfect but poison I'm nine-tenths to numb Don't forget me.

21