theronnieverse - Hello Poetry

“It’s nice to meet you.” He hugged me awkwardly and I hugged back, just the same things were a little simpler then or so I thought in the moment just a couple of friends “Sorry I’ve disappeared, things have been hard recently.” I could see that he meant it in those hopeful eyes and sheepish smile “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” “Is it, though?” “Thank you for being there for me,” I said this time, sad and unsure but in his arms again and this time around it felt like coming home somehow “I don’t know how I feel about this,” we thought, “and I need some time” in those endless summer months spent miles apart physically, emotionally far from home if home is where the heart is “I love you,” he said that one night as he put the blanket around me planting a kiss on my cheek and an inkling of hope in my heart making my house his home with a sign saying: love grows here Last night, he had no words absentmindedly touching me as if it was second nature smiling when he met my eyes looking up from his things and for some reason that spoke to me the most.

0

Jan 19, 2020

Jan 19, 2020 at 10:20 AM UTC

theronnieverse

seasons of love

“It’s nice to meet you.” He hugged me awkwardly and I hugged back, just the same things were a little simpler then or so I thought in the moment just a couple of friends “Sorry I’ve disappeared, things have been hard recently.” I could see that he meant it in those hopeful eyes and sheepish smile “It’s okay. Don’t worry.” “Is it, though?” “Thank you for being there for me,” I said this time, sad and unsure but in his arms again and this time around it felt like coming home somehow “I don’t know how I feel about this,” we thought, “and I need some time” in those endless summer months spent miles apart physically, emotionally far from home if home is where the heart is “I love you,” he said that one night as he put the blanket around me planting a kiss on my cheek and an inkling of hope in my heart making my house his home with a sign saying: love grows here Last night, he had no words absentmindedly touching me as if it was second nature smiling when he met my eyes looking up from his things and for some reason that spoke to me the most.

41

White sheets on a plain bed two pillows and a spread. The simplest image yet the strongest longing Frustration in the wells of the disturbed duvet hills of loneliness uncomfortably lingering in the spring mattress. Fresh daisies and cotton mixing with sweat and tears the scent of a young lover left alone to roam those roads all on her own Missing. Lost in translation from life to art to life again fell from the edge of the frame and onto the carpet It's been months. She's been collecting dust little by little and peace by piece her mind wandering as she lets go at last her breath the flutter of a newborn butterfly She took a step back. She broke, again and again hidden away, shattered and reborn a kaleidoscope of fragments and memories bursting out into the world each side of her a different story each one beautiful and whole again She wants to share her story as they talk about their day rejoice in the touch of his fingertips and the softness of her skin cherish the sincerity of his laugh as they pull each other close appreciate the warmth of his breath and the clarity in his eyes being the first thing he sees waking up from the sweetest dream and knowing that regardless she is the reason for his smile But not yet. Her hands smooth down the bedding. One less mountain to climb, she thinks slipping into the plain bed and under the white sheets. Only one more sleep, only a few more days a couple more dreams and symphonies and one more poetic line to wish her rampant thoughts goodnight.

0

Dec 23, 2019

Dec 23, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC

theronnieverse

lily of the valley

White sheets on a plain bed two pillows and a spread. The simplest image yet the strongest longing Frustration in the wells of the disturbed duvet hills of loneliness uncomfortably lingering in the spring mattress. Fresh daisies and cotton mixing with sweat and tears the scent of a young lover left alone to roam those roads all on her own Missing. Lost in translation from life to art to life again fell from the edge of the frame and onto the carpet It's been months. She's been collecting dust little by little and peace by piece her mind wandering as she lets go at last her breath the flutter of a newborn butterfly She took a step back. She broke, again and again hidden away, shattered and reborn a kaleidoscope of fragments and memories bursting out into the world each side of her a different story each one beautiful and whole again She wants to share her story as they talk about their day rejoice in the touch of his fingertips and the softness of her skin cherish the sincerity of his laugh as they pull each other close appreciate the warmth of his breath and the clarity in his eyes being the first thing he sees waking up from the sweetest dream and knowing that regardless she is the reason for his smile But not yet. Her hands smooth down the bedding. One less mountain to climb, she thinks slipping into the plain bed and under the white sheets. Only one more sleep, only a few more days a couple more dreams and symphonies and one more poetic line to wish her rampant thoughts goodnight.

50

there are times when all you can feel is nothing no rhyme or reason no rhythm no melody not a single note in sight no colour to be heard no breeze to savour although the aftertaste is bittersweet so you try them on feeling after feeling discarded on the floor in a pile of ***** laundry the broken records and then they spin out of control there's no order and no queue the tapes won't rewind the sink is still broken your words still sting the jukebox remains silent empty.

0

May 24, 2019

May 24, 2019 at 8:42 PM UTC

theronnieverse

the jukebox

there are times when all you can feel is nothing no rhyme or reason no rhythm no melody not a single note in sight no colour to be heard no breeze to savour although the aftertaste is bittersweet so you try them on feeling after feeling discarded on the floor in a pile of ***** laundry the broken records and then they spin out of control there's no order and no queue the tapes won't rewind the sink is still broken your words still sting the jukebox remains silent empty.

24

She was a stray airplane in the sea of stars An imposturous glimmer of hope With no true end or destination Destined to float among the lights, alone Or so she thought as she wrote it down Sealing the edge with the sad remains Of wasted birthday candles The final goodbye to the golden days Prodigy at first, prodigal at last A soul lost on the way to find a meaning Searching for the faintest sign of a beginning With her writ of passage left behind The death of the author means A rebirth for all things familiar The return to a garden of thought And the flowers in full bloom.

0

Mar 24, 2019

Mar 24, 2019 at 5:32 PM UTC

theronnieverse

an elegy

She was a stray airplane in the sea of stars An imposturous glimmer of hope With no true end or destination Destined to float among the lights, alone Or so she thought as she wrote it down Sealing the edge with the sad remains Of wasted birthday candles The final goodbye to the golden days Prodigy at first, prodigal at last A soul lost on the way to find a meaning Searching for the faintest sign of a beginning With her writ of passage left behind The death of the author means A rebirth for all things familiar The return to a garden of thought And the flowers in full bloom.

16

Over Silesian mountains Somewhere beyond black seas There is a forgotten dream Conjuring visions of peace Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore To the land that you adore Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore Go your own way, go now, go Many lives faced the dream More of them fade to black But in the eyes of the eagle There is no turning back Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore To the land that you adore Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore Go your own way, go now, go Their hearts are worn on sleeves Determination so earnest Merely calm before the storm Quiet before the Tempest Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore To the land that you adore Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore Go your own way, go now, go Inside the city walls The static is meant to frighten Those who await the call In the echoes of the siren Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore To the land that you adore Go your own way, go now, go You are meant to lead, not follow Walk on, fly by, sail ashore Go your own way, go now, go There are many roads to follow Some of them are painted red Yet as long as we march on No one can declare us dead.

0

Mar 24, 2019

Mar 24, 2019 at 5:29 PM UTC

I am still here yet I am not who I once was. I have shed my human skin I was reborn into something true something pure in essence if only abused, disregarded for so long it almost killed me. I am free at last. It was not a prison for she has not reformed me but changed me nonetheless. I was captured on my own accord I took the risk just as I once took the lives of kings and queens businessmen and millionaires Into my hands. I led them all to ruin. Human beings are ungrateful by nature always wanting something else something more something greater There was once a time that made that dream a reality a simpler existence for others like me humanity called us and we called back into the void we had many names angels prophets messengers mediators but we were never guardians for they relished the taste of power more than safety or justice and called upon us for our strength turning quarrels into battles and battles into wars the blame was ours there was no question or any answer, either. Abandoned. No longer a beginning or an end neverending existence and suffering. There was no point staying true to our spirit. It was crushed mercilessly by the one meant to be most merciful. We were not meant to exist without a reason or greater purpose. It was beyond us so we took it upon ourselves to find one. Living alongside the humankind took its toll at last. We rose from the wreckage and the ashes to take the world as our own. This is why I am who I am as I remember now claiming my sense of purpose taking for myself what I could not have in my own right. Tired of treachery and deceit I craved the taste of innocence. A sweetness only a child could possess. She had all I wanted a blank future a clean slate the world at her feet and so much more so in turn I possessed her. We came together as one and when we did she had no language no words to persuade me. It was something else something pure entirely no vile thought or ill intent so repulsive to my state of being yet so wonderful it was what I wanted what I craved and I revelled in the high. I must have lost myself between the lines. She hated every second but I was blinded too blind to notice and there I was manipulative, controlling but somehow spiralling out of control. I lost everything I knew and to this day I do not understand why do I feel an echo of a flutter somewhere within me seeing the two hands together his thoughtful eyes or the softness of his lips those are her wants her primal needs but now I crave them too. My entire existence is trembling and I hate it so immensely since it reminds me of being human and the one thing I could never understand is their will to go on to carry the most convoluted conversations with themselves on the off chance that they will get their answer a true call from the void. After all, do they not deserve it? are their lives not a gift designed to fulfil a greater purpose? Perhaps so but I do fear the humankind as the knowledge would surely break them. If they were certain that there is no meaning they would become us shapeless demons ghosts of their former selves. We are not bound by the same mentality. I will carry on living reap the souls of those standing in my way one by one by one until there is nothing left still, I am afraid to claim another life and to become one of them once again I am afraid since I now know too well their struggles, fears the ticking clock. Can I ever become one of them and not become human?

0

Mar 24, 2019

Mar 24, 2019 at 5:24 PM UTC

theronnieverse

the centuries

I am still here yet I am not who I once was. I have shed my human skin I was reborn into something true something pure in essence if only abused, disregarded for so long it almost killed me. I am free at last. It was not a prison for she has not reformed me but changed me nonetheless. I was captured on my own accord I took the risk just as I once took the lives of kings and queens businessmen and millionaires Into my hands. I led them all to ruin. Human beings are ungrateful by nature always wanting something else something more something greater There was once a time that made that dream a reality a simpler existence for others like me humanity called us and we called back into the void we had many names angels prophets messengers mediators but we were never guardians for they relished the taste of power more than safety or justice and called upon us for our strength turning quarrels into battles and battles into wars the blame was ours there was no question or any answer, either. Abandoned. No longer a beginning or an end neverending existence and suffering. There was no point staying true to our spirit. It was crushed mercilessly by the one meant to be most merciful. We were not meant to exist without a reason or greater purpose. It was beyond us so we took it upon ourselves to find one. Living alongside the humankind took its toll at last. We rose from the wreckage and the ashes to take the world as our own. This is why I am who I am as I remember now claiming my sense of purpose taking for myself what I could not have in my own right. Tired of treachery and deceit I craved the taste of innocence. A sweetness only a child could possess. She had all I wanted a blank future a clean slate the world at her feet and so much more so in turn I possessed her. We came together as one and when we did she had no language no words to persuade me. It was something else something pure entirely no vile thought or ill intent so repulsive to my state of being yet so wonderful it was what I wanted what I craved and I revelled in the high. I must have lost myself between the lines. She hated every second but I was blinded too blind to notice and there I was manipulative, controlling but somehow spiralling out of control. I lost everything I knew and to this day I do not understand why do I feel an echo of a flutter somewhere within me seeing the two hands together his thoughtful eyes or the softness of his lips those are her wants her primal needs but now I crave them too. My entire existence is trembling and I hate it so immensely since it reminds me of being human and the one thing I could never understand is their will to go on to carry the most convoluted conversations with themselves on the off chance that they will get their answer a true call from the void. After all, do they not deserve it? are their lives not a gift designed to fulfil a greater purpose? Perhaps so but I do fear the humankind as the knowledge would surely break them. If they were certain that there is no meaning they would become us shapeless demons ghosts of their former selves. We are not bound by the same mentality. I will carry on living reap the souls of those standing in my way one by one by one until there is nothing left still, I am afraid to claim another life and to become one of them once again I am afraid since I now know too well their struggles, fears the ticking clock. Can I ever become one of them and not become human?

158

Every waking hour and every living moment suspended in reality is the truest nightmare for I am now awake and the dream is not over the ceiling is a flash of white the outside world a breathless scream there is no truth to it yet it comes back to haunt me in a house that is not my home in the days and years with every sun and moon I have done everything faced the dark side burned every bridge there is no rhyme or reason a simple melody the littlest things to numb the pain and so it persists still gone but not forgotten twisted in its nature a personal purgatory of sorts a hand clenched ever so tightly around my throat or perhaps it is only a faceless demon crawling in my skin stalling my every move a devil on my shoulder and ironically so it feels right for I am not the hero of this story never have been the life as I know it has never been kind in the desire to take what could never be mine an ordinary life an easy way out so instead I took lives for myself for money for prestige for infamy and I deserve every nightmare as there is no way out at all I cannot take it back or start all over it is too late I’ve come too far now I say so to myself a chaotic mantra echoing within these empty walls so why am I trembling? I have no fear and I have no faith I have faced death but I will not go anywhere how could I believe in the faintest sight of Heaven if life put me through Hell? The merciful one cannot exist for my only companions are the demons from the past and yet there is fight left in me I will not bury myself in the guilt and shame this bedstead is not my tombstone or my legacy I am still alive I will step out into the world and dip my toes in the sunshine I will not give up not ever not now.

0

Mar 24, 2019

Mar 24, 2019 at 5:14 PM UTC

theronnieverse

the hours

Every waking hour and every living moment suspended in reality is the truest nightmare for I am now awake and the dream is not over the ceiling is a flash of white the outside world a breathless scream there is no truth to it yet it comes back to haunt me in a house that is not my home in the days and years with every sun and moon I have done everything faced the dark side burned every bridge there is no rhyme or reason a simple melody the littlest things to numb the pain and so it persists still gone but not forgotten twisted in its nature a personal purgatory of sorts a hand clenched ever so tightly around my throat or perhaps it is only a faceless demon crawling in my skin stalling my every move a devil on my shoulder and ironically so it feels right for I am not the hero of this story never have been the life as I know it has never been kind in the desire to take what could never be mine an ordinary life an easy way out so instead I took lives for myself for money for prestige for infamy and I deserve every nightmare as there is no way out at all I cannot take it back or start all over it is too late I’ve come too far now I say so to myself a chaotic mantra echoing within these empty walls so why am I trembling? I have no fear and I have no faith I have faced death but I will not go anywhere how could I believe in the faintest sight of Heaven if life put me through Hell? The merciful one cannot exist for my only companions are the demons from the past and yet there is fight left in me I will not bury myself in the guilt and shame this bedstead is not my tombstone or my legacy I am still alive I will step out into the world and dip my toes in the sunshine I will not give up not ever not now.

77

Welcome back. It has been a while since you last came I'll take that as a good omen so to speak is there something bothering you, perhaps something on your mind you can let it out this is a safe space or at the very least as safe as you feel your own mind can be it sounds as if you are finding it somewhat difficult to adapt to this and it's actually really painful and it is it's getting harder to reach you now as in the end we are one and the same but I understand better than anyone feeling unwanted the rejection and the pain I feel it too as I hide away, from you from everyone and everything until you are gone but not anymore you don't control me or so I will go on telling myself until it comes true it has been too long since I have let you loose but I will not hold on and for the first time I am setting you free for holding onto it all only nurtures you and drains me so your time is done so, please stand up and leave don't forget to take your depressive episodes and relapses with you on your way out make sure you do not look back as you are not welcome here any longer.

0

Feb 25, 2019

Feb 25, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC

theronnieverse

in session

Welcome back. It has been a while since you last came I'll take that as a good omen so to speak is there something bothering you, perhaps something on your mind you can let it out this is a safe space or at the very least as safe as you feel your own mind can be it sounds as if you are finding it somewhat difficult to adapt to this and it's actually really painful and it is it's getting harder to reach you now as in the end we are one and the same but I understand better than anyone feeling unwanted the rejection and the pain I feel it too as I hide away, from you from everyone and everything until you are gone but not anymore you don't control me or so I will go on telling myself until it comes true it has been too long since I have let you loose but I will not hold on and for the first time I am setting you free for holding onto it all only nurtures you and drains me so your time is done so, please stand up and leave don't forget to take your depressive episodes and relapses with you on your way out make sure you do not look back as you are not welcome here any longer.

61

It's suffocating. The sheer concept of time passing by feels almost like a soul to squeeze caged within my chest. The silence resonating within the aether is deafening. It tastes like defeat. I can feel it just on the tip of my tongue ready to spill. My lips are sealed yet my soul is bare writhing in agony the constant question of is the line busy will you call out into the hollow void the warmth of your voice entering the right atrium echoing impatiently until the oceans sigh and I breathe in again reaching new depths. I feel it in my fingertips a phantom memory resurfacing as I trace images and symbols something so strange yet so familiar a gleam of light in my line of vision. There is no answer you have gone missing eight minutes ago

0

Feb 23, 2019

Feb 23, 2019 at 8:00 PM UTC

theronnieverse

eight minutes ago

It's suffocating. The sheer concept of time passing by feels almost like a soul to squeeze caged within my chest. The silence resonating within the aether is deafening. It tastes like defeat. I can feel it just on the tip of my tongue ready to spill. My lips are sealed yet my soul is bare writhing in agony the constant question of is the line busy will you call out into the hollow void the warmth of your voice entering the right atrium echoing impatiently until the oceans sigh and I breathe in again reaching new depths. I feel it in my fingertips a phantom memory resurfacing as I trace images and symbols something so strange yet so familiar a gleam of light in my line of vision. There is no answer you have gone missing eight minutes ago

38

Today was a day. Nothing more or less just a touch of gin poured over unbroken ice a hint of vermouth neither shaken or stirred and a simple olive for life did not think I was ready for a lemon twist it seems to be true that in a glass like this the day is half empty.

0

Feb 22, 2019

Feb 22, 2019 at 4:36 PM UTC

theronnieverse

half empty

Today was a day. Nothing more or less just a touch of gin poured over unbroken ice a hint of vermouth neither shaken or stirred and a simple olive for life did not think I was ready for a lemon twist it seems to be true that in a glass like this the day is half empty.

13