ramon-yanez
American
I am that which cannot be broken / The untamed spirit / Of a wandering soul in a weary sack of bones / Floating endlessly through cycles of longing / And loss / I am that which cannot be tamed / The wilds of a forest / The passion of love / I am that which is blessed / With the curse of life / And of strife / I am that which cannot be explained / The random mutation / And spontaneous creation / I am both the poem and the poet / The rhyme and the time spent and made / I am not but a memory of a figment of a fraction of the sight / Of all you have seen in your life / I am that which I claim to be / I am that which you make of me / To myself I am nothing more than a tapestry / Worn down by time / Worn out by life / And still exuberant / The untold stories and unseen glories / I am that which cannot be broken / I am the will and the way / I am.
When I tell you, “I’m depressed”
Do you ever think
This is just some trick, something he says to keep me here?
Because I’m always afraid
You might stick around
For all the wrong reasons
When, the only one I care about
Is that, you found in me someone you can love, someone who can love you.
Because
As sad, and as hard as it is to say
Even though it will take
Just about everyone I know and trust with this information
Years to sort me through the loss of you
I’ll get past it
And I’ll have at least, someone to help me
So, please don’t stay with me, just because, every so often
I say “I’m depressed”
Because even though I say “don’t ever leave me”
If you do, I won’t think any differently of you
Who, after all, could blame you
If, sometimes, when I say certain words
You want to fly away
Because staying, might just be some big mistake
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
Hey, again. We haven't spoken in so long. How are you? How have you been? How many days has it been since the last time we spoke? Tell me about them, all of them. Or better yet, talk about something you love. How I used to be able to coax you to do. Speak to me roughly, yell at me, just...don't leave me in silence. Because I can't bear to be alone. Because I am not as strong as I show. Because deep inside, all the fears I don't show flow beneath the surface. Tell me about your smile. Has it faded away? I hope not. How's your family? Your love life? What color shoes did you wear yesterday? When did you last wear a dress? Is it okay with you, if after every topic that you speak we digress? I don't want to stay too long in silence. Because, I learned long ago that between lovers and friends there are times when there's nothing wrong with a little bit of silence, and other times...so how was your day? Is something wrong? Is nothing wrong? Can I congratulate you? Console you? Can you get me outside of my head? Is it sad that I twist and I turn in every direction like a wounded animal? Is it bad that whenever I stop to think I just wish I had a gun held up to my head? So, how about the weather? Strange, isn't it? How it feels like our skin could just boil off. And I just think that maybe, this time, we could stay up until I see another ray of sunshine, rising, as it always does. So I can murmur to myself that after every night comes the dawn and with the dawn comes the light, and, and-oh, that was just your ringtone. No, no, it's fine. I don't want to leave a message. Can you hear the desperation in my voice when I say goodbye?
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
And, I ask, again
for the millionth time
who
can I turn to
when I am alone
when the person I turned to
has turned their back to me
I don't miss your touch so much as I miss your presence
I don't miss your kisses as much as I miss being held by you
And, above all else
I miss having someone to talk to
when the world around me seems to be falling apart
and I never showed anyone else
that the wallpaper to my mind
was torn and tarnished
And who do I turn to
when
the person who, to me, was the entirety of this world
has left me too?
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:35 AM UTC
I would kiss your lips as gently as I'd slap you across the face
Smooth
Straight into the action
Purely fueled by passion
I'd set you free as often as I'd lock your cage
shove and hide you away in the remoteness of your mind
I'd make you spend time
Wondering just who I am
Seconds
Mainly
As you can't be bothered nor can I be asked
Too involved in my past to set course for a better future
I found myself repeating history
Now nothing remains a mystery
I can
Tell when the **** will hit the fan
And set it on high so it falls and sullies the floor
Where I can inspect the damage that was not done to me from a distance
Reminiscent of times where I'd imagine myself doing something
Aside from drifting in and out of consciousness.
Finding myself wishing my arms were spread around you
To pull you in
Seek your warmth and figure out just
What warmth is to a sack of flesh
Supported by bones
Running on blood and adrenaline rushes
The mind seeks to lay blame on other important organs
So you can ignore that you are faulty
And then you see your faults in others, and blame them for grievances you encountered yourself
And I'd set you and your hips down
Slide a hand up and hold your lips down
Lift you up because I'm afraid you might drown
In the tensions that arise when you're slipping out of your mind
And into loose tongue mouthing nothing that sounds like obscenities wafting through the air
And I'd make love to you
You'd call it *** too
In the same way one casually waves a hand at an old friend
Long forgetting their name
Who they were
What they meant if anything
Casually smiling back as these voids go unfilled
You'd never mention it again
Like the time that the world almost came to an end as I was choking on my own saliva
Siezing out for a hand or a tree branch
Crawling on the floor, vision fading
Thinking
This is how I'll die, and I'll think nothing more
So that to this day I cannot stand to feel as though I might throw up because my throat my hold down the ***** and I'd erupt only after I die
But it's never mentioned
So it's like it never happened
Till it comes back in flashes, calling to you like a parent, promising some sense of warmth, something safe
Because we craft and recraft our memories till they make what makes the most sense to us
Would be to let me do as I want for a year
Without limitations I might finally face my fears
Self imposed, unreal, and confront myself as I am, a coward too afraid to act
So he acts in defiance to his own whims
Like
Holding onto your hands
Memorizing the smooth contours and shapes
Feeling the tingling sensensation of running my nails gently across your fingertips
Down your neck I'd find nothing but soft skin and exposed vacancies of weaknesses long since abandoned
What gives when the architect of your demise
Is that little voice inside your mind
Saying
It's your hearts fault, that you're so blind
When
All it ever did was give out the signs
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:22 PM UTC
How devastating it would be to be unique
So unlike the rest
and abandoned all the same
to be special in your own ways
Kind, gentle, strong-willed, and beautiful
or so you're told
again
and again
and
again
Until you very much believe this is so
so very much believe these things with your heart and soul
only to be cast aside
alone
again
and again
and
again
To wake up every day thinking
My existence is meaningful
my purpose is unclear,
but my life; my life is wonderful
and see such brimming and smiling faces
all contorted into shape
giving life new meaning and behind every stare a silent wake
because you knew
in the back of your mind
that plaguing though, persistent and benign
scratching at your very essence
each fiber of your soul
that this would some day soon grow old
and that you'd be left, abandoned by the very sun
left to fend for yourself in a world that has grown distant and cold
the same as it was so long ago
yet, different to you
who has been gone for so long
the inner machinations all seem so contrite
the pity you feel, you run from with all your might
because you cannot be alone
Because you are special
like oh so many others
you were special once
and yet here you are, absolutely
alone.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 1:01 PM UTC
I know a doll made of brass and electrical wiring
She seems so cold and fixedly haunting
She's got such eyes, eyes that keep calling
Reaching out, reaching out and peering
As though they were clawing their way out of her frame
I know a doll, she's made of brass
The rest of her feels like an electrical touch
Shocking at first, tingly when lost
And she's got such a radiant gaze
It almost makes you feel secure
Best be easy now, easy now, or she'll break off your hands
She's got such features that make her so harsh
And she's got such a fighting gaze
I know a doll
She's made up of brass
But if you asked me, ever so discretely
I'd nod to her way and say
See that girl, see that girl? She's made up of glass. She's so transparent that I can see through her
And she's so bashful that she doesn't let anyone else know what I know
So I go around saying
Hey, see that girl there, she's made up of brass, and if you held her, just quietly held her, you'd never notice if she ever held back
But that is our secret, my little secret
Knowing just how she yearns to hold back her emotions
How she cannot control them
So she just stays there, in your hands, in your grasp till you go on by
And when she's been dropped
You see her get up, oh-so-smoothly
Seemelesly on her own two feet
But I see inside, see inside
That she's still collapsed
But we'll keep on saying that she's made up of brass
Mar 10, 2013
Mar 10, 2013 at 7:10 AM UTC
I'm frightened by just how much I love you. And I do mean love. Not that silly thing we throw around like casual greetings-- "oh, I just love your dress, your shoes, your earings"-- no, none of that, unless these things were worshipped by whoever uttered the phrase. I mean just that, I worship you, I adore every second I spend with you and if I could commit to memory every detail of your soul and flesh and internal beauties I'd never be alone again. But, I am only so gifted, and I lose sight of you upon every drifting thought. That does not mean you are not important to me, that you are, oh so terribly, but I simply know I cannot bear to hold you in my mind all the time. Otherwise I'd never get things done. This does, however, work as a wonderful motivator; wanting to send my time imaginning you because we are so far apart. I try my best so I can get back to that, so that I can get back to you when you are around. So, back to the fact that I love you. I love you like one should their own thoughts, something so integral in defining who you are that it can be said to compose your very essence. I know it's like a cliche, but I really find myself at a loss for words when describing those precious moments of intimate solitude to even us. Giving shape, form, word and solid meaning to something so raw, intimate, warm, caring and so much deeper than those words could ever imply is...wrong. But you know me, always one to try and say what it is I'm thinking, whether or not it needs to be said. And I also know you, and I take great pride in knowing my lover so well that I am her best friend, her first choice in opening up to someone. It makes me feel so important; you make me feel that way too. And that's important, especially between two people with limited self-esteems. To be made so important and integral and nurturing to someone elses life, and at the same time making them equally important to you-- not to lick one anothers wounds, but to help us through, help each of us move on, together. I like that, I really do. Hell, maybe the reason why we shouldn't give this shape is because it can be viewed in such a skewed manner, always picked apart and basterdized, misinterpreted, twisted, distorted, and in the end defiled beyond repair. But, there are also times when we can give these moments shape and form, liberty. When we lay in bed, with you usually laying on top of me, looking right into each others eyes, without so much as a ****** hint or verbal command our fingers slide across our hands, down one anothers palms, into the spaces between each finger and interlock, and we stare, and we smile, and we giggle at how very alike we are, you and I. In love
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 4:22 AM UTC
I find myself floating in thoughts of everything
How much I love you lay in bed with you
Just talking
In utter silence we still know each other better than we can explain to others
When we're apart we dream of each other
And when we do not dream
We feel restless
And tired
And exhausted by someone elses presence
That slight nudge saying here they are
Other half, partially in this person
It makes us sick
To think anyone else could even come close to either of us
And when we lay in bed
With each other
Bodies caressing
Steady rhytms
Clumsy manners
We don't want to be anywhere else
Our minds concentrated on keeping us closer
And our bodies enjoying themselves
And our emotions fill the air with tensions against expectation
We do not wish to leave our sides
Simply yearning to stay in those silent moments forever gives us an unstoppable drive
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 3:03 AM UTC
Meet me halfway between the
music and the melody
the apathy and the agony
the laughter and the tears
Meet me where we first met
and give me the day
to make you smile
and even if its for a little while
let me forget that
You're not here now
any-more than
I can see the wind
or the thing that makes life
or death that lies around those unseen corners of our lives
greedy
come meet me half way between this road and that
and kiss me off
send me away
Oct 23, 2012
Oct 23, 2012 at 1:33 AM UTC
God forbid
We ever get ahead
And realise just how much we've progressed
And all that we've transgressed
And marvel at the sight of all our human might
And ask ourselves when our heads got filled
With the notion that we were individuals who had to fight
To overcome that which teamwork won
That we ever realise that dreams can materialize
And that, God, if ever present, long ago left on ahead
Because we were busy fighting about who should make our bread
And who will raise our dead
But no-one ever asked
Where will this road end
At least not loud enough for it to clear our heads
God forbid we realise just
Who we all are
And who our brothers and our sisters are
For we might accept them with open arms
Silly notion
Let us fix it all again
This time, this time
Our God will be dead.
Sep 30, 2012
Sep 30, 2012 at 3:51 AM UTC