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Dec 2019 · 60
The wake of hope
Ayn Dec 2019
In the wake of hope;
A fleeting emotion,
Lies the horrid despair
Of failing once again
Dec.31.2019
Dec 2019 · 58
Mortality
Ayn Dec 2019
The world chains me down,
***** me into my screaming body,
Forcing me to acknowledge my mortality.
I am not eternal,
The pain is forever real.
Because I decided that 1:23am was the absolute perfect time to write about my weakness of being mortal. Written on Dec.31.2019 (crap I gotta get some resolutions set in stone)
Dec 2019 · 269
An Oddity
Ayn Dec 2019
I love you,
Truly, I do.

From the bottom of my heart,
You shake warmth into my core.
But not from the base of my ****,
My mind dares not open that door.

I could never defile you in my head,
It sickens me to even think of it.
In all my honesty:
My heart will forever love you more
Than my ****. To me, my genitalia’s a bore.
After writing this it made me reflect on how someone said I’m innocent in a way.
Dec 2019 · 93
Buoys and Anchors
Ayn Dec 2019
Buoyed to the blood of our planet,
And anchored to our machines of war.
The human race cannot keep digging
Into this blood soaked shoal anymore.
Or a volcano will open up the ocean floor,
And destroy our abundant life, living nevermore.
Dec 2019 · 157
Leaf
Ayn Dec 2019
Feb.2019

I am a leaf
Flimsy and death bound,
Waiting for the grief
When i float to the ground.
I am a fallen life
Brittle and soon to die,
The cold stabs with its knife.
The wind makes me fly
It shoves me through the air
With it’s taunts that get me to weep
Eventually i will tear
And go to an endless sleep
Another leaf broken
Because it was left open
Second poem I wrote I think, tried the sonnet rhymescheme and liked it. A lot of my deleted poems were in this kind of format.
Dec 2019 · 146
Blank Slate
Ayn Dec 2019
A chalkboard; a blank slate.
A place for two emotions:
white and black; love and hate.
the blank space is always black,
but the white-hot love flows over it,
covering the hate with it's purity.

But then technology came, bit by bit,
and then byte by byte, it took over,
recreating our old school chalkboard.

As this change was bound to happen,
so where my single track emotions.
A junction was coming; a railyard is ahead.
I had to change tracks, or I'd end up dead.

And so, I found my two colors,
not despairingly alone any longer.
More colors came into my world,
bursting through my mind's rusted door

Each day, new emotions flow through; red, blue, and green.
They appear like pixels, flowering up onto my blank screen.
I sound really old, don't I? Anyways, I've never planned out a poem, I usually just wrote down what came to mind, but this time I stepped back and thought things out.

Notes:
- bits are a computer term, it is individual binary 1s and 0s
- bytes are groups of 8 bits
- RBG (Red Blue Green) are the base colors in a computer display that form
   all the complex colors.
- I hope you know what a chalkboard is...
Ayn Dec 2019
00001010 01000100 01100101 01100011 00101110 00110010 00111001 00101110 00110010 00110000 00110001 00111001 00001010 00001010 01001001 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101010 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101000 01110101 01101110 01100011 01101000 00101100 00001010 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101001 01110000 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01101101 01101001 01101110 01100100 00101100 00001010 01100001 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110010 01101111 01101111 01110100 01110011 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01101101 01111001 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101111 01110101 01100111 01101000 01110100 00101100 00001010 01100010 01110101 01110100 00100000 01101101 01100001 01111001 01100010 01100101 00101100 00001010 01110100 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101100 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101100 01100101 01110011 00001010 01101001 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110000 01101111 01100101 01110100 01110010 01111001 00100000 01100011 01101111 01101101 01101101 01110101 01101110 01101001 01110100 01111001 00101110 00001010 00001010 01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01101110 01101111 00100000 01110111 01100001 01111001 00001010 01110100 01110010 01111001 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01100100 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100110 01100101 01101101 01100001 01101100 01100101 01110011 00101100 00001010 01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01101010 01110101 01110011 01110100 00100000 01110011 01101000 01100001 01110010 01101001 01101110 01100111 00101100 00001010 01101101 01111001 00100000 01110000 01100001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01101111 01110101 01100111 01101000 01110100 00101110
If you had the time and took the pain to translate binary to text (its using ascii conversion) don't take any offense in the contents. I translated this by hand... it took a while.
Dec 2019 · 187
Rugged
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.29.2019

Up and down and up again,
my stable position changes at the drop of a pen.
I have not an idea of where I am going,
and I am quickly forgetting where I've been.
My bike keeps ruggedly flowing
over stumps and bumps
and branches and roots.

Up hills far to steep to ride,
down some that could make me scream,
sacrificing my little pride.

reaching escape velocity,
I shoot out of my comfort zone,
like a shuttle breaks into orbit,
I am the opposite of smooth...

Bumping over rocks and branches,
fast enough to immobilize me.
But I ride, petrified but not rigid,
over these rugged trails.

My knuckles wrap around my handlebars,
turning a ghoulish pearly white,
but it was a hidden by my ebony gloves.

I might as well be twisted,
but I wholly believe
that the fun part
was my stone cold fear.
To be perfectly honest, Cape Cod is not exactly that rugged, but behind a lot of those beautiful beaches are woods, and in the woods near where I live are some steep trails that are very twisty and turny, and I found out they are fun and scary to bike down. I decided since I was stupid, to try some new trails that I have never walked... I almost flew off my bike from hitting fallen logs a couple of times. But it is fun, if anyone is somewhat fit, they should try biking on trails.
Dec 2019 · 89
Bitterly Better
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.28.2019

To see this sight once again,
strikes me with a heartwarming awe.
I am alight once again,
the blue flame has consumed me again,
but it changes as does the tides,
into a vernal green flame,
flowing with flowery life.

It has changed a lot since a year ago,
even why I have done it.
I feel much better, but I wish
I really do wish,
that it didn't have to be solved like this.
At least I treated myself correctly, unlike what the old me would have done.
Dec 2019 · 101
Sick
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.28.2019

I feel sick.
The nauseating waves of emotion
flooding my body in one continuous motion,
as if it wants to drag me out to its seventh sea;
a glacially boiling reverie full of flash-frozen icicles.

The past five days have built block upon shadowed block,
and I'm losing sight of my own deceptively delusional reality.
Why have things taken such a sick and twisted turn towards my hell?
I want my ******* knife, I want to see my one and only solace,
I want to see my vibrant blood, full of self despising vigor.
...
Dec 2019 · 116
Deprivation
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.28.2019

The hole is everlasting,
a complete vacuum,
full of partial emptiness.
My arms itch once again...

give me the vorpal blade,
the one to sever ALL my ties.
we are tied by strings to everything, even our own life and death, not just strings to our friends or the red string of fate.
Dec 2019 · 127
string title = NULL;
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.28.2019

An abyssal hole,
void of any values.
In Binary it is 0,
in Hexadecimal it is 0x0,
in words it is "   ",
and in life,
it's me.
I code, so that's why there are Computer Science terms in there. binary is 0s and 1s, while hexadecimal is 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 a b c d e f 10 11 12 etc etc. both are numbering systems. Null is a piece of data that can be applied to some or most variables, try to figure out what NULL's value is, its in the name per-se.
Dec 2019 · 113
Untitled
Ayn Dec 2019
Oct.25.2019

Sammie, it annoys me
That you called my question sweet
It’s not you, it’s me.

What to think of it?
It confuses me so much
Know that I love you!
Christ almighty I forgot that I asked someone out to homecoming that day and got rejected in a really sweet manner that avoided telling me weather my feelings were reflected or not. It’s in a double haiku form. There were hundreds to choose from my drivers ed book, but this one was the least bad.
Dec 2019 · 84
Time
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.28.2019

Time is a relative  concept
I mean, have you ever
Felt like you teleported
From 11:00 to 1:00?
I have.
It’s an awkward mistake
That i all too often make.
Doing out the math, I have 3 hours until I should get up, and 4 until I have to (it’s 3am now) I should jufrfgdf

If you can't tell, I fell asleep while finishing it up, I just remembered it existed and I really badly overslept...
Dec 2019 · 161
8. Conclusion
Ayn Dec 2019
I know this didn’t happen, but it is how I am currently, i think.

Who am I?
I am me,
I am not to die
I am free.
I have not bled
I have cried
I have fled
I have lied
I killed myself
I killed that half
I killed it for good health
I killed it so i never have to experience it’s wrath.
I experienced the pain of life’s cruel counterpart
I experienced it all without dying
I experienced the pain of never losing heart
I experienced it all and I’m still standing
The top bit was in italics, but that doesn’t carry over well. I kept it there for the irony because 2 months later I tried to **** myself one last time before I came clean out of it. (this was written jun 9 2019)
Dec 2019 · 333
7. Don’t leave...
Ayn Dec 2019
Why did I need to leave
It was so much fun dragging the knife through
1 for every time I shakily breathe
On a wave of pain, we flew.
I have always loved that other side
It breaks me that I left
He just wants to hide
Leave me to carry it, to heft.
I have no words for my treacherous acts
I hate me down to every last shred
I want to rip them apart with... possibly an axe?
He means nothing to me, i will turn him red
If it’s the last thing i will ever do alive
I will **** him, or at least stop his thrive.
Said more as an aside than directly at me, but since it’s myself I kinda knew what was going on... also from my random *** suicide thoughts that came during thus time.
Dec 2019 · 156
6. I’m Stopping
Ayn Dec 2019
You need to leave now
I’m not doing this anymore
I don’t feel the urge. I don’t know how.
I’m not submitting to that pain, I’m not it’s *****
If i end this, so do you.
Or even better, just leave.
It will be better for the both of us if you do.
I know you want my pain every time I breathe
It’s hard to stop, i know we both love it
The reassurance of the cold knife and hot pain
It’s quite a nice thing to do before a potential fit.
There is just too much that i can gain
I don’t wanna stop but i know I should
I don’t need any help though, it’s all good.
If you’re reading these out of order, find the collection on my profile and read them in order, they’re all there.
Dec 2019 · 175
5. Don’t You See?
Ayn Dec 2019
Don’t you see,
The ruby red blood?
We love the pain, you and me.
Bother sides of me are mud
So we should just let it out dude
I love that we can finally get on the same page
I love the blood, i love the cuts crude
Now that we bleed, we have left that cage
We are truly free, flying above all
Not listening to anyone’s pleas
No matter how much the beckon or call
To us they are nothing more than fleas
You shouldn’t trust them, ever.
Just trust me, I’m your benevolent endeavor.
All these poems were written on the same day. Oh yeah, if any of you are in the least bit confused, don’t hesitate to drop ur confusion in comments or in the spatial void, I may or may not get it either way, but I’ll try fix the confusion.
Dec 2019 · 149
4. You’re F**king Insane
Ayn Dec 2019
You’ve gone insane, I’ve gone insane
We are two in one so we both are as such
Listen to yourself, you cannot live without the pain
I don’t get why you love the bliss so much
I know it feels so great
I know it’s extremely addicting
But it also carries a lot of emotional weight.
we’ve stopped feeling the pain we are inflicting
Is that a problem? We could find another spot
Stop. Get out of my head
You are a ****, you mentally weigh me down a lot
I just need to forget, to lie in bed
You make me fight this endless strife
Just shut up, all I want anymore is my knife
If you’ve gotten this far and haven’t decided that I’m mental, good job bc I promise I’m not. Anyways, these are close to internal arguments that I’ve had in my head during this time.
Dec 2019 · 748
3. Again! Again!
Ayn Dec 2019
You know I love this, you do as well
We all love the feeling of the dripping blood
I know this feeling brings us closer to hell,
But I cannot live through this emotion flood
I need it to stay alive and sane.
The feeling is good too, it’s bliss
I love all the self inflicted pain
I want more, everyday, without miss.
You may think I’m out of line, I’m crazy
But i know you love it too
You are a *****, you’re lazy
I deal with that **** everyday, and so do you.
We need our emotion vents to let out the crud.
Why not again use our own blood
so I’ve figured it out. The even numbered poems are me, while the odd numbered poems are... also me. But the odd numbered ones are by the ****** up me, the one that wants me to die and hurt myself.
Dec 2019 · 130
2. Fuck off
Ayn Dec 2019
Why are you here?
I never wanted you to exist
Yet you stay and cause me self fear
You never cease to persist
Wanting me to bleed
Maybe even to beat myself dead
Its all a mystery, a warning I won’t heed
I never wanted to let out so much red...
I ******* hate you
Hiding behind a shield of lies
Its all you ever seem to do,
The fake tears, but you never heed my cries
You need to leave me alone
You are a fiend that needs to atone
Me trying to turn back and retaliate on the piece of crap (the other part of me that hates me), telling him to *******.
Dec 2019 · 138
1. Happiness
Ayn Dec 2019
Jun.9.2019

I’m bleeding happiness
I watch it flow, a cheerful ruby red.
No time for the cold regrets and darkness
I cannot go back upon the path i was lead
The pain is the best thing that I’ve felt
It’s a wonderful, blissful feeling.
It makes me fall in a temporary relief. i gladly melt.
Until my body starts retching and reeling,
Im keeping things the way they’ve been.
I love the blood, i love to watch it flow
It has a wonderfully rose sheen
Especially when the wound starts to grow
Why cannot you, or even anyone see,
That i am ok with this happening to me?
It’s almost 2am and I’ve just been lying in bed, so I decided to do something productive and share these poems I made a while back describing how depression was a ***** to get out of, and that everyone was tryna be “helpful” but apparently I wasn’t having it.
Dec 2019 · 69
Inhibition
Ayn Dec 2019
Dec.27.2019

Why do I hold myself back
from what I want to do?

"To hide the overpowering disappointment.
You don't want to forever hurt yourself,
so you stay silently discreet; lay low."

But why don't I want to hear them speak?

"Again, to save your no-good cowardly ***.
You are quite the physical *******,
a lover of being cut, bruised, and bludgeoned,
but you suffer from being mentally skullfucked.
Aren't you supposed to me smart?
Maybe, just maybe, if you had confidence,
you wouldn't be talking to me;
the one person who wants you dead.
you refrain from everything,
yet you always seek counsel with me."

Because you're the only one I truly trust...

"Go **** yourself, just talk to someone else."
Have you ever talked to yourself? Argued with yourself? Welcome to my everyday life. The only person I have ever trusted enough to seek full counsel with was the part of me that urges me to destroy my body and **** myself. I promise you people that I'm not suicidal now, but that **** changes at the radius of a dime for me.

Oh yeah, actual notes:
this starts with me complaining, questioning why I get so apprehensive when I'm around those I like, and how texting them never goes over well with me, or how I don't want to read their messages, but takes a different turn when 'it' starts talking back.

'it' words are in quotes, my words are not.
Dec 2019 · 63
To Love is to Let Go
Ayn Dec 2019
To love,
Is to live with pain each day,
The pain of mistakes
and misconceptions
Will litter your beating mind,
Burning your head at the thought
Of their beauty.

To live and love them
Is to let go of it daily.
All the pain and suffering,
Regrets and remorse,
Let go of it.
Otherwise you’ll end up
With rosy cuts in your arm
And venomous thoughts,
That cloud your delicately
lovestruck mind.

Live to love,
And love to live.
Let go of what you love,
But never let go of your life.
Said from experience. Anyone who hasn’t learned this yet should, and I hope those people don’t roll down the same path I did.
Dec 2019 · 64
Monochromatic spectrum
Ayn Dec 2019
Nov.28.2019

A brilliant arrangement of colors...
Well only one color.

A plethora of a single shade,
A void of only that color.

Dragged through the void,
Many years of pain.
But on the other side,
Lie a rainbow.

Oh so beautiful,
Oh so colorful.

A pillow of color,
To rest my weary head upon.
A therapeutic spectrum,
To help me stand strong again.

The mind can go colorblind too.
nothin' to note, so disregard this.
Dec 2019 · 109
Love & Lies
Ayn Dec 2019
Nov.28.2019
Love lies.
It turns you on but turns you off.
Not sexually, but communication wise.
You want to speak,
Toss words out of your mouth
Like a panther just unchained.
However, you cannot speak.
You can only stare on as she turns away.

As she turns away once again.
You seem to notice that more.
Every time she walks off,
Says goodbye,
Leaving once again.
You invest hope in the questionable God,
Pray that she’ll come back and talk again.
She almost never does.

You hafta lie to your friends,
Saying you’re completely fine...
But you can only say a trailing
“Yeah...”
As you stare at her.

You want to be by her side,
You want to have someone lean on you.
The darkest times will always haunt,
You want her to help your fear wash away.

Someone to lean on.
Someone to hold up.
Someone to cuddle,
As the night grows cold.

You haven’t once thought about
...
That
Thing
Called
...
consummation.

Love strikes you out of nowhere,
It’s never a soft, feathery, padded strike.
It’s quick, hard, and piercing.
Claws or a knife are probably involved.
It’s crazy, just how love is so odd. But where would we all be without it?
Dec 2019 · 426
Illegible Literature
Ayn Dec 2019
I took a class a few months back,
it taught me how to drive a vehicle,
the extracurricular activity is Driver's Ed.
I listened well, but I wrote better,
and in the notebooks we were given,
I had written poem after poem,
covering all the whitespace.
About notes for later,
and love that was now
(it still is "now"),
this book is full of literature,
but the actual necessary contents
are one hundred percent
illegible literature.
Found my Driver's Ed learning book to try and study up, learn the laws again. I took one look in, and the page was chalk full of little haikus and poems of other forms. I can't read much of any pages because of my mind that loves writing poetry like an average person loves to doodle. I'll post some of the good ones sometime.
Dec 2019 · 81
Under My Thumb
Ayn Dec 2019
Love is controllable,
I had it under my thumb.
Way back when, I liked someone,
But I switched my object of obsession,
In order to avoid imminent depression.
But That was just an interest; a fancy,
Now what I have is beyond my control,
Not only that, but it’s in a realm I cannot see.
So I’m stuck in this desolate, claustrophobic hole,
With no latter or rope to speak praise of,
I want to send myself a white dove,
And control or remove this hellish love.
True story, I was interested in a girl in 6th grade but I switched my interest because she was popular. Then I had an interest in the one I switched to For awhile. And now It’s a different person and I can’t control it...
Dec 2019 · 146
Apparently...
Ayn Dec 2019
Lets say the case that
"you are what you eat" is true...
I'm a cannibal.
No, I am not a cannibal.
Note to self: clean laptop screen at some point... ugh its gross.
Dec 2019 · 115
The Blind Man that Sees
Ayn Dec 2019
July 2019

Dawn, the naturally brilliant masterpiece.
radiantly split as if by a prism, handing darkness it's disregards
and forming a mosaic of light, that is soon to decease.
The dawn then fades into the sun, the next of three cards.

Day comes along with unsurpassed brightness,
bringing a warm light to the otherwise cold Earth.
a soft blue sky floats with a particular politeness,
and the water reflects its color with a taunting mirth.

Dusk follows in wake, the harbinger of darkness.
It shows us yet another vivid, spectral mosaic
whilst darkening the sky with abrupt impoliteness.
A multitude of watercolor stars appear, all rather archaic.

It is thought that all appreciate art of this kind.
However, I won't appreciate these occurrences.
I am neither blind to color or completely blind.
I am blind to their meaning, they contain no reassurances.

I could never appreciate what I can't see or feel,
to me, the colors I've described aren't real.
Those are what others think, I wish I could see...
But I am blinded and will never be free
I remember writing this over the summer after angering my friend somehow. I still don't know what I did, like that entire weekend is a hole in my memory, but I wrote this as a reflection and sent it to him before I pulled my final suicide attempt. Another dark story behind a poem...
Dec 2019 · 105
Fingers
Ayn Dec 2019
(Dec.26.2019)

Growing numb in the icy late December,
turning a strawberry sheen and stiffening up,
like a dead body, when left unmoved.
Writing this becomes incredibly harder
with each passing stroke I make.
I bet it's impossible to read this
I go to a bench in a field where I write several poems in my notebook I got recently, so all the ones written there will have the date written above the poem.
My fingers hurt so much when I came back inside, because I can't write with gloves on.
Dec 2019 · 293
Answering myself.
Ayn Dec 2019
Why do I write so much?
Because you have emotion to take care of.

Why am I so emotional nowadays?
You were once a man of steel... look at you now.

Why are my scars still there?
Because you never cared enough to treat your wounds.

Why am I crying?
I don't know.
Asking and answering, pondering my empty mind in my favorite writing spot. I fixed my bike so it got easier to get there now.
Dec 2019 · 120
Bench
Ayn Dec 2019
Listening to cows
and the cars, far below me.
This bench's a safe spot.
I call upon thee, poetic license! Make my bench is -> bench's contraction legal!
Dec 2019 · 95
Po~ et
Ayn Dec 2019
I am a poet,
Who is only 16.
I am:
****** in speech,
Lacking a lot of street smart,
But in fact rather book smart.

A 16 year old boy,
Who watches cute anime,
Is incredibly weak to cute things,
Is buying an acoustic guitar...

And listens to metal music.
KORN, TOOL, Slipknot, and Disturbed
ICE NINE KILLS, shinedown, and Atreyu.
These wild bands help me get pumped up.

This is who I am, and will be
forever, if time allows
This is just me.
Another unknown poet.
Apparently poetry is becoming popular once again but IDK. I hope it is because it is a wonderful art that everyone should try. Also the bandsI listed are awesome, check them out on YouTube or spotify.
Dec 2019 · 201
A Worldly Chill
Ayn Dec 2019
The damp world, slowly yet ardently wiping itself off
from the previous evening’s unannounced showers,
Blew a feathery breeze, kissing my skin with ghostly lips.
Looking back I realized that this is a good poem on its own. I know I ripped it from a previous poem.
Dec 2019 · 132
Time Bomb
Ayn Dec 2019
Everyone is a ticking time bomb.

Tick tick tick

Each word I make another mistake

Tick tick tick

I feel like I am about to break

Tick tick tick

My well being is in their control...

Tick tick

The day is almost over

Tick tick

I’ve angered them once again

Tick tick

I don’t know what I did

Tick tick

But today,
I’m going up in flame,
Like every day before,
Can’t they just let me go?

TICK

The bell marks the end of another day,

BOOM

Once again
I lie in my blood,
Propped against a cold brick wall,
Wondering what I have done
To deserve all of this pain.
Everyone still is a time bomb in my head. If I do something wrong, they’ll blow. I dedicate this to all the ******* ******* who made me this way.
Dec 2019 · 163
Him
Ayn Dec 2019
Him
I’ve written poem after poem about her,
But I’ve never written one about him.
Is it because that ended before I
Started to write poetry once more?

I have no idea,
For I loved him just as dear,
As I love her.

Even though we may just be friends now,
I feel that he is still, by league after dissipating league,
The coolest person I have ever, and will ever meet.
I sent this poem directly to him after writing it, before I posted it here, just to mess with him ;).
Ayn Dec 2019
How much longer can I suppress this feeling?
It seems that my time is running out,
Faster than my own terminal velocity.
I just might consider what I see as an atrocity

I could never commit such an act!
Professing my love is a horrible move
This sounds innocent to everyone, i bet
But to her i feel emotionally in debt

She had stabilized me when I needed it most
I would have never survived leadership otherwise
She made me feel all these new emotions,
More than I can count on my fingers.

But what I want most,
Is to thank her for everything she’s done.
She doesn’t know it, but she saved my life once
And I wanna apologize as well.

I want to apologize for someone like me
To end up being the one that liked her,
I want to be with her so
I can thank and apologize without problem.

I love her,
More than I can describe,
with my current vocabulary at least.
It must sound cliche, but it’s true.

I wish I could be the one to make her smile
But I’ll end up being on the sidelines
I was never meant to be the protagonist
And life is no romantic comedy.

Why did I like her?
Se seemed cool.
No other reason.
I wish it was a better reason.

How’d I fall in love?
A moment of euphoria.
After a completed challenge,
I gazed into those eyes,
And it all snapped into place.
I wanted to hug her,
We were both swept up in the moment,
She probably would’ve resisted though.

But I have to come to terms.
She is above me, she’s the valedictorian.
I’m in a measly 4th place.
I can’t ever go out with someone out of my reach.

I want to rise up.
To third or second
To come close to her
Or even with her
Before I confess.
I cannot wait forever though,
For I cannot hold my emotions back indefinitely,
And eventually I’ll break down.

I want to help her
She seems so stressed.
She’s always smiling,
but just like me,
Her smile hides stress and pain.
I want her to smile for real
And to feel really carefree
I would shoulder her pain w-out a second thought.


It would be nice,
If she could help me too...
I don’t need it, I shouldn’t want it,
But I kind of do anyways.
Please believe the title. I promise you it isn’t an obsession.
Dec 2019 · 67
Okay
Ayn Dec 2019
What does “okay” even mean?
Out of all the information I can glean,
It is just a way of saying fine.
But it cannot be fine,
Because fine is the exact opposite.

Whenever I hear ok,
Things usually are not perfectly fine,
And whenever I say ok,
Again, things are not perfectly fine.
Things are usually pieces of ****
that make me cry, in misery or in loathing.

But does that mean blind comfort,
“That’s ok” “it’s ok”
Is just venomous words hidden in a
Pastry-like consolation?

And why, am I ok while writing this poem?
“He had a lot to say. He had a lot of nothing to say...”
-Maynard James Keenan (from the song Eulogy by TOOL)
Dec 2019 · 268
The pain of sitting still
Ayn Dec 2019
I sit still every day,
Well I mean my mind does,
Anticipating for things
that may not ever come.

My social anxiety has
Twisted it’s venomous
Thorned rose around my
Otherwise unsullied mind,
Poisoning it, cursing it,
Making it unable to communicate,
Having me draw immense suffering
From the excruciation of socialization.
But yet it gives me intensified
deprivation of such activities.

Sometimes I wait for what will never come,
And with each passing minute,
The thorns grow larger as well as sharper,
Getting a larger hold on my ****** up mind.
There’s a long story behind this one, and I’m lazy Bc it’s 12:30 am. Sorry if you wanted to know. Relatable? Idk.
Dec 2019 · 141
Live & Love
Ayn Dec 2019
Living in desperation, looking for a
Silver sliver of golden hope;
A contradictory existence I shall never find.

I just want to love and love,
Is that too much to ask?
nothing to note.
Dec 2019 · 71
The Thinker’s Dilemma
Ayn Dec 2019
You take a sugary treat,
Add some salt if it’s too sweet.

I remember every moment with her.
The mistakes i make will allow her to infer.

I want her to forgive all that I’ve done.
It’s my fault, I only ruined her fun.

All of her problems should trace back to me.
Even if I was never involved, that’s how it’s to be.

Continuing with this will break both our hearts,
Piercing our chests with barbed darts.

We leave them in, holding our regret,
These darts aren’t pulled, so we never forget.

Remembering past times is adding salt
To all the sweet things, it’s the thinker’s fault.
Not about being in a relationship, but about how I blame my probably one-sided love for all the stress and unhappiness in her life.
Dec 2019 · 218
Crown of Thorns
Ayn Dec 2019
This crown of thorns:
Pushed farther on mine brow,
My brain, it mourns.
Mourns the sadness to which I bow.

These cuffs of blades:
Cut deep into mine legs and arms,
I have been cut by this ace of spades;
The forsaken knife, that exclusively harms.

This unfair reality:
It eats away at all thats left,
It falsely gives me a principality.
The load of emotions, I still heft.

A heart i will never take,
But I still stumble on.
Each day with another mistake,
My hope is just another con.
So ummm yeah, the first poem I wrote, way back in feb of 2019 right after a suicide attempt... Jesus-*******-Christ that’s dark. But I thought I’d share the story behind it. Also was reading Macbeth at the time, so that’s why the language is odd.
Dec 2019 · 103
Lay
Ayn Dec 2019
Lay
As I lay in this field,
The sun shines its rays upon my skin.
A shadow is created upon the
Opposing side of my delicate body,
Darkening the once golden grass,
Now degraded to a lackluster bronze.

My shaded half is becoming uncomfortably cool,
Because Jack Frost nibbles at the exposed skin,
Seeing it as a wonderful midmorning snack.

My better half, however,
Shines with a soft, unobstructed glow.
Filled with a calming, serene warmth
Generated by the ever shining sun,
I continue to lay in my solitary love of myself...

But as I lay here,
I realize that I don’t know
Why I despise all of myself so severe.
Laying in the field was fun, but my clothes ended up getting really *****...
Dec 2019 · 128
Christmas delight...
Ayn Dec 2019
As the snow undoubtedly decides that it’s to good to fall,
I lay in my lukewarm bed, praying to catch a wink of sleep.
It is not because I am exited, nor do I want to catch Santa Claus,
I just have a case of insomnia, that’s pretty much it.

But as I look out my window at the clear sky,
A radiant arrow of piercing moonlight strikes my heart,
Shaking me to my solemnly steeled core,
A core as cold as the clean world lying out my window,
And as sturdy as the nice red balloons found at parks.

I try to speak, but I am speechless, breathless.
I realize my lungs are devoid of air,
So I take a rapid breath inwards,
A breath far sharper than my blooded razorblades.

And then I spoke.

I stand there, asking, pondering, realizing,
and further disappointing myself...
I question my past choices, look at the people I’ve loved.
A short list, containing only two names to be held dear.
A female and a male. I love both,
but neither loves me back.
I question how to look forward, how to move on,
But I cannot find an answer

On this despairing Christmas night.
I wrote this on what happened literally five minutes beforehand... ANYWAYS, merry Christmas to those on the American EST time zone, bc we are 5 minutes away from the holiday
Dec 2019 · 416
Untitled for a reason
Ayn Dec 2019
cannot publicly acknowledge the existence of angels,
Such an outrageous act has been outlawed by the council.
So here I am to tell you about these nonexistent beings.
They come from a place called heaven, a serene place
Lying in the clouds that do not fade; they are everlasting.
In heaven they soar free, using their feathery wings,
Which glisten like scheelite in the eternally dawning sun.
Their halos are a gold, 10 carats more pure than the element,
And seemingly glow, even in the most minimal light.

And their souls, as pure as a diatomic gas,
As white as the everlasting magnesium flame.
But most importantly, their souls glow like the firey sun,
Always ready to make us happy, and eternal in existence.

But I once again forget, as a note is passed my way,
That “angels,” in fact, “do not actually exist”
Signed,
The council.
It also says to stop talking about these forms,
Or I will be detained... then executed...
Welp, that’s a sour note to leave on...
Bye.
If anyone has listened to the podcast Welcome to Night Vale, you’ll know where my inspiration for the denial of said winged creatures. If not, listen to it, it’s a funny sci-fi comedy podcast. Also again, look up any names that you don’t know, chemistry is pretty cool too.
Dec 2019 · 71
How does it work??
Ayn Dec 2019
I don’t understand
How all the text alignment
Is supposed to work.
I’m genuinely confused about why people would align the text in different ways. I usually just left-align it because I don’t get why I would put it any other way...
Dec 2019 · 205
Life moves on
Ayn Dec 2019
Into all of eternity,
Over the despairing
Expanse of Ginnungagap,
Across the Bifrost rainbow,
Through the golden fields
Of the prosperous Fólkvangr,
And into the trunk of Yggdrasil,
Life forever moves through the nine worlds,
Binding us all together.
Was gonna create a poem about moving on, but my fingers hit the keyboard in the “wrong” way, creating a norse poem. If you dont know some of the names, look them up, I find norse mythology very interesting.
Dec 2019 · 402
Anime
Ayn Dec 2019
Don’t say you hate it
Without having tried it first.
Hell, you might like it.
I doubt there are many other  people in the poetry community who watch anime... maybe in japan though... nah.
Ayn Dec 2019
Is it a song of defeat in the eyes of death?
Or of the solace felt in their closing breath?
Was seeing how I type on my phone, typed the title, then made a little blurb about it.
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