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159 · Jan 2022
forgiveness
Ayn Jan 2022
An unseen gesture,
It’s meaning left to speculation.
Our silent words drop like sunshine
Onto an amber autumn field,
Treating our long-forgotten wounds.
Treat others the way you would like to be treated. I have long ago forgiven you, but I won’t forget you. You have not forgiven, and you will not forget. What more do I have to do to set things right?
159 · Oct 2021
Glistening Stone Oceans
Ayn Oct 2021
Within a single moment
An overflow of deterioration
Causes time to stop and ponder;
A single instance in time
where all that exists is inverted
and silence finally reigns once more.
"Just listen to the noises / Null and void instead of voices"
from 'Through Glass' by Stone Sour
159 · Feb 2020
Formalities
Ayn Feb 2020
Forming together
As if in a curt whisper,
The gnarled shadows
Poke and ****
At the glimmering snow.

The moonlight
Politely beckoning the wind
To provide these shadows delight.

They giggle in the nip and tickle
Of the seemingly stagnant breeze,
But they bore of its humor
As the wind’s imposing air
Dissipates with growing unconfidence.

The snow’s silky silver sheen
Is shaded by the gnarled green.
The moon’s reflectant piercing light
Prevades this stagnantly silent night.
I wish there was snow on the ground.
159 · Jan 2020
Inability
Ayn Jan 2020
The anger closes in,
Like a thick blanket,
Ten degrees too thick.

My worldview is narrowed,
The blanket weighs me down.
Heat is rising at a rapid pace,
And my thoughts become colder.

The blanket is now
chaining me down,
And I feel useless.
I want to help another,
But I cannot help their case.
It violently tears me open
To be unable to help them.
And as I think further,
The blanket grows thicker,
And tighter.
It’s hot under my blankets. Ugh I feel like **** when this kinda thing happens, but I can always try my best.
158 · Oct 2021
Crawl
Ayn Oct 2021
Stand up or crawl.
Seething pervasive emotion
Burning like an open wound.
Sores and pains erupt throughout
But life’s tenacity carries you forth.
Your mind is blazingly empty;
Save one thought: the end goal.
The pain threatens to corrupt you more,
But your burning strive fends off its toll.

There’s nothing left but the finale;
A desire so strong, nothing else remains.
A scream of intense vitality;
Silencing the waves; soothing the pains.
158 · Dec 2019
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)
157 · Jul 2021
The hope (in your eyes)
Ayn Jul 2021
All I see are lies.
In your eyes?
Glimmering reflections…
Dancing like the winter’s edge.
Reflected in my eyes.
And twisted by your vision.
We can never agree.
You’re never truly free
It’s two people, one is on the odd numbered lines, the other is on the even numbered lines.
157 · Dec 2019
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.
157 · Apr 2020
Spiral
Ayn Apr 2020
Embracing the colors
As they spin off the spiral,
Reaching out to touch my desires
And bring each little spectrum
Onto my monochromatic planet.

Spinning through my world
Like a brilliant top atop a table.
The spiral brings a blinding light
And preaches words of color like a fable.
I’m still tired. Wrote what came to mind. I didn’t edit this at all and I haven’t reread it yet. How is it?
156 · Dec 2019
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.
Ayn Mar 2020
I’m sitting in a nowhere,
No life, no sense of flair.

Life bustles all around,
But it’s all a monotone mound,
There’s no variation to be found.

New places,
New spaces,
And new paces
Is the basis
For a mind in stasis.

So i might stop this mope,
And put a wayward hope
Into a little elope.
Maybe I need to travel. I conformed my desires into this rhyme, and I mean it when I said conformed. It’s another forced poem.
155 · Jan 2021
Descent
Ayn Jan 2021
Underneath
What I am;
What I was,
I burst out of the shell,
Burning to shred.
Smoldering paper
Is all that remains.

Burn it all,
The thought doesn’t count.
Burn it all,
It shouldn’t survive.
Burn it all,
Just save me from my memories.
What memories could I be speaking of? Hahaha that’s for me to know and try to forget! I’m usually on the side of not trying to forget things because they teach me. This taught me nothing and caused me pain.
154 · Feb 2020
Qs
Ayn Feb 2020
Qs
If I posted a poem
Containing my feelings,
Would she see it?
Or would it be lost,
Like many other things,
In the silky sands of time?
I mean it’s not like she uses the sight,
Right?
I hope she doesn’t see all of this. Embarrassing stuff...
154 · Feb 2021
Untitled
Ayn Feb 2021
Clear and transparent before me,
Lying calmly and silently.
The dawn rises behind the horizon,
The moon, once gone,
Now over the silver land.
Electrified emotions
Left to stimulate a dim moonlight.
152 · Nov 2021
Nameless Echoes
Ayn Nov 2021
From the void a voice calls out;
A warm greeting once again.
Inside my body desires to roar,
Let out a vibrant call of vitality.

You walk in like flowers,
Yet leave me pinned with daggers.

You say life won’t get any harder,
Then nail me to my cross,
Making my emotions your martyr.
Sometimes your actions confuse me. Sometimes i wish you’d realize for a second what’s really going on, so i can stop denying myself of this emotion. Everything we do together doesn’t help me fix myself at all… it just makes it all worse.
152 · Nov 2019
Words Make Wings. [pt. 2]
Ayn Nov 2019
I once thought I was flying,
through the delightful air
soaring with freedom.

In all truth...
it was a lie.

From who I was back then,
I for sure,
was flying in a world of bliss.
A stone cold sky,
burning indefinitely all the while,
the sky was red and black,
my body was crumbling
into the charred ashes
that I considered my worth.

I flew under the world,
riding on flaming blue pain.
My lead wings were a burden,
dragging me below the earth,
giving me a comfortable hellscape,
The only place I called home.

The blue flame of pain had engulfed me,
and the lead wings of my blade dug deeper.

To shed them was to carve out a part of me.
This connects to part 1, as well as Blissfully Blue.
152 · Dec 2019
Man
Ayn Dec 2019
Man
A jolly, corpulent man, taller than high tide.
He hosts lavish parties for all, sparing no pence.
Living in front of media, nothing to hide.
Donates to charities in all his benevolence
He loves the people in his honest mind,
and the people love him, but they are blind...

Inside the saint lies an angry diamond;
Discretely rattling if one gets too close.
It’s venomous fangs puncture the media,
Infecting them at their already corrupt core.
Preying on the blind defenseless mice,
Robbing them of their “truly pitiful” life.
It puts it’s catch into blackbox charities,
They cycle it back with a tainted clarity.

The diamond holed it’s way into
This jolly saint of a man.
The deviant sunk it’s fangs into his flesh,
Infecting him with a truly visceral avarice.

All the bullets that hit the man
Were meant for the slimy scaly *******.
But the devious diamond deftly dodged...
And the man was broken forever.

All because the man was but a vicarious vessel
Of the snake’s diligently destructive divinity.
With the previous poem I posted, I hit 1000 words exact. Also tells me that my vocabulary is larger than I thought it was. Also this is the finalized version.
152 · Dec 2021
Untitled
Ayn Dec 2021
How many small lies
Have I imprinted
How many are left?
152 · Jan 2020
The Heart Undoes The Soul
Ayn Jan 2020
Shielded in a titanium cell,
living in a serene state of solitude.
The cold world wouldn't harm,
but the cold cage did.

Beaten with insults,
scarred with fists.
Living an infernal life,
so I built an immaculate chamber.

A cell thought to be without flaw.
Frozen solid, but slowly shattering.
Only a warm heart could thaw,
and now mine's fluttering.
Stanza 2, line 2: scarred refers to being emotionally scarred.

Stanza 3, line 2: the subject of the sentence is the cage's captive.

Stanza 3, Line 4: this line is not referencing the cage's captive.

I'm tryin' not to spell it out, so that's why these notes are vague.
151 · Feb 2020
Lingering Draft
Ayn Feb 2020
An arid, cold fog sets in
On the once emanating morning,
And dampens our planet once more.

A wet, ebon oaken wood bench lies
In the place where the usual bench rests.
And the grass glows an affluently ardent amber,
Drowning out the sulfuric gray clouds.

On this day I look and wish
That someone was by my side,
And we could share
This gloomily wet,
Yet so intensely vibrant
Visage of life.
This sight was witnessed last week, but the poem was written Feb.10.2020 (that’s today).
151 · Feb 2022
Untitled
Ayn Feb 2022
As we fade beyond the horizon,
I sleepily sink into your eyes.
When the golden stars scar the skyline,
I’ll become one of your silent lies.
151 · Jun 2021
Untitled
Ayn Jun 2021
Like a sopping wet leaf,
Floats in the northern oceans,
As if it is a single drop of blood
In an autumn wheat field,
The echoes of reality reach deaf ears
As the final leaf falls,
Silently,
From its hibernating host.
In a continuation of the last note, very few house flies have died since them, none of which were intentional murders.
151 · Jan 2020
Only One
Ayn Jan 2020
The lone rose
Lies untouched,
An article of silence
In a field of
Clamorous lilies.
Roses can mean love (the classic red ones) and lilies mean hate. Sayin’ this in case you don’t want to look it up.
150 · Mar 2020
Airspeed
Ayn Mar 2020
As long as the arrow is still airborne,
The sky shall be vehemently torn.

There are shockwaves you have yet to create,
And a life to live without you degrading hate.

Carried by the wind far flown
You are the phantasmal flying kite;
Your path shall not be blown,
And I will hold your string tight.

Dauntlessly, night after night.
Written for someone who needs these words, by someone who can give those words. Don’t give up!
150 · Dec 2019
Festive Feelings
Ayn Dec 2019
Christmas time is right around the bend,
Just next week, I can no longer pretend.
My wallet is stretched thin, I’ve got none to lend.
And the stress builds up as I lose another friend.

The anxiety builds up,
block on top of shadowy block,
The tower’s ominous loom increases
As the season steadily progresses.

Oh, I remember the Christmases
So so many years ago.
When I wanted a white Christmas,
But I never got to have
A powdery blanked covering
My especially festive day.

Now I yearn.
I yearn for not the white Christmas;
The one I cared about then.
I yearn for a delightfully red Christmas.
The one that gives my arm quite the treat.
I yearn to see liquid rubies atop my wrists,
And feel the flame festively flicking my toes.

Christmas is a day of giving,
Therefore I shall give and receive,
Be the bringer of my own serenity,
And feel the flame once more.

Am I just pain’s *****?
Started writing about Christmas, zoned out somewhat, finished the poem, looked back and asked myself how I ****** up a cheery Christmas poem so much. Also, sorry if the term in the last line offends anyone.
149 · Jan 2021
Untitled
Ayn Jan 2021
Like the sun
Blazing through the sky,
A master swords
Cleaves the fallen knight,
Bringing forth
The golden sunrise
Of a gilded age
149 · Mar 2020
Untitled
Ayn Mar 2020
Icy lakes
Freezing until tame.
Ashen snowflakes
Glimmering in flame.

Steadfast ice,
Atmospheric lights.
Blocks frozen twice
Into towering heights.

Aqueous infernos
Casting a flaming rapid.
A burning soul grows
A seed so trepid.

Water to grow the ice,
And quench the inferno.
The aqueous paradise,
Sitting among this rapid flow
I think the ending’s a bit weak...
149 · Jan 2022
Untitled
Ayn Jan 2022
Echoes permeate the muffled air,
Bringing the song of life
To this old barren landscape.

Ripples in the water
Beckoning the snowfall,
Like the call of death
To an unsuspecting passerby.
149 · May 2021
Untitled
Ayn May 2021
You are the bleach searing my eyes,
The blade entering my veins,
The truth behind my silver lies,
And the silent screams of my pains.

Necessary but unwanted…
Or was it wanted but unnecessary?
Now it’s just a still ballroom, long haunted.
Ghosts and specters dominate the ferry.

Once a burning memory
Now a fading sheet of music.
Silence carries no remedy,
Besides the voice of your mimic.

You broke through my inaudible screams,
Now you linger amongst my deepest dreams.
This goes all over the place, doesn’t it? I wrote it last night then passed out while writing the note. For context, the speaker is talking to the writer.
149 · Dec 2019
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.
148 · Feb 2022
Untitled
Ayn Feb 2022
Like a flicker of wind,
Sparking against my skin;
The moonlight fades
And she is gone once again.
148 · Mar 2022
M
Ayn Mar 2022
M
What if time had stopped
In that very moment;
Never to continue?

What would you think,
If I had become the autumnal leaf,
Drifted away by the wind?

Would things be different
If I paused indefinitely?
Would have it been better?
The things you say make it seem as if things would have ended up better if I never came back around. Maybe you’re right.
148 · Jun 2021
Postal
Ayn Jun 2021
Do we really know
Where our soul shall go
After we decide to die,
And let our phantasm fly?

Or do we cry
After another futile try?
And do those who pass us by
Suffer through the same lie?
It’s been a while, or has it? Depends on your viewpoint. From a house fly’s viewpoint, they’d have died and rebirthed several times since my last work lol
147 · Oct 2021
Untitled
Ayn Oct 2021
He’s back once more;
The icy presence held at the door.
My heat is drained away
Like a fleeting fall leaf,
And all that’s left is an empty shell;
Something he wouldn’t sell.

Why all the meaningless slander?
I know you love me at heart.
There’s everything left for us;
A world of experience to handle.
Take my hand and I’ll show you,
You’ll see a world better than blue.
Get out of my head. You aren’t welcome.
147 · Feb 2022
Untitled
Ayn Feb 2022
You yell,
You cry,
You scream my name;
Say your in pain.

As i swing my fracturing arm;
Ready to lift you up,
You swat it away,
And I shatter.

As my pieces fall to the ground,
All I can think of is you,
And everything i could do,
To help you get through.
I can’t keep ignoring myself to help you.
147 · Feb 2020
Apologies
Ayn Feb 2020
It's a game
where all the players
try to be the most sorry,
making them victim
of their guilt
3
5
7
5
3
like a haiku, but not. I'm very prone to saying sorry a lot, sometimes I don't mean it, I just react out of fear.
146 · Dec 2019
Messed up
Ayn Dec 2019
Spiking into me like a soulless torrent,
Bringing a slight vignette to my vision.
I drag it to the side, feeling the skin part,
Feeling the cold metal searing my hot flesh.
Blood bubbles up,
but it’s not good enough.

Again.

I drag it through quicker, harder, deeper.
I want more pain.
I want less blood.
It still doesn’t pass the bar.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And on it goes...

My arm drips the blood I never could have cherished.
My patience with this process is almost out,
I feel a desperate hatred, as my desolate mind shuts down.

My arm becomes increasingly ravaged
by each sweet, disappointing stroke.
My mind runs out of patience with all my failures.

“**** it. I’m done.”

I raise my hand, the one holding my ever so cherished blade
And sweep the slice of a hopeless child;
a child who sees nothing left of themself but the pain they give.

The flaming arm releases some of its ruby blood,
Flinging it towards the walls and furniture,
Unable to hold onto it through the violent strike.

A vertical line of deep red divides its lighter counterpart,
A vertical line, far too shallow to stop my worthless heart.
“There’s always next time...” I think resignedly,
But I know that next time will fail as well.
I forgo the bandages once more,
And go back to what I was doing, ten minutes before.

Through all the disappointment I saw this as my savior.
But I know, that this was never any form of acceptable behavior.
Sorry if that was rough for anyone. I wrote it to describe what it was like for me, to try and help others understand why some do this (feels good) but also tells these people that I don’t enjoy or support these measures for reducing stress.
146 · Apr 2020
Matterless
Ayn Apr 2020
An endless window sits before me
The ebon gleam
Entices my forest green...

Contact starts with eyes
But what contact is left
In this empty planet.
Black eyes... I wonder if that’s possible. Not like pupils, but the colored part.
146 · Jan 2021
Untitled
Ayn Jan 2021
Shrouding every waking breath,
And stifling my sickened cough;
Weakening me.
Forcing broken promises,
And dealing only half-truths,
Making my regret vile.

I wish I could’ve met you,
I would’ve saved some face.
But your face is mine.
And your mind,
Well it’s on the same line.

There is no solving you.
Believe me,
I’ve tried it too.
Only in avoidance
Will I save myself
From your remnants.
146 · Jan 2020
Shining West
Ayn Jan 2020
Stepping out
Of the shadowed veil,
And Pulling off
The masquerade mask,
The sun beckons dawn forth.
Thought of while washing my hands. Odd time to think of poetry. Jan.10.2020
146 · Dec 2021
Are You Alone?
Ayn Dec 2021
Time fades beyond the horizon
Like a gentle crisp breeze
Pulling the autumnal leaves into the air.

Should we stop pretending?
We’re in the house of flies.
There’s only our loss;
Nailed to the cross.

You’ve lost your wings,
And I’ve got no courage…
Who are we to begin to flourish?
The house of flies references a song called “change (in the house of flies)” by deftones. I implemented the use of the house as a term for a rapid and unexpected change.
146 · Dec 2021
Untitled
Ayn Dec 2021
You tease and toss me,
Beckon destruction and strife.
You apologize for nothings,
And terrorize my way or life.

Your motives are unclear,
The emotion you hold is invisible;
Silent poetry which I can’t hear.
But why do you belong here?
Why do I allow you to stay when all you do is harm. I don’t feel like myself. I don’t even know what you think. I’ve never been less confident in knowing how someone feels than when I’m around you. I’m afraid of what you’ll do to me. I’m afraid of what I’ll do to you. If you’re anything like what I think, I’m just going to hurt you in the end. I’m sorry.
146 · Dec 2019
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...
146 · Dec 2019
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.
145 · Mar 2020
Arrival
Ayn Mar 2020
A crisp ashen smell
Waves in greeting,
And the hotpot bubbles
It’s spicily warm curtsey.

A sliding, wafting heat
Caresses your skin
With it’s cottage comfort,
And the small light
Finally reaches your sight.

Too long have these lonesome winds blown,
But now your company dashes in.
So, welcome home.
Tried to get that ***** feel that’s nice to think of.
145 · Jun 2020
Sightline
Ayn Jun 2020
What lies in the eyes
That stand just out of sight?

The void is endless,
But who can see that far?

If one is set to leave,
Why bother looking back?

Just because you’re out of sight
Doesn’t mean you’ve left my mind too.
145 · Mar 2022
Serpentine Silences
Ayn Mar 2022
The river flows forth,
Like a vermillion serpent,
Gliding effortlessly
Through the morning mist.
Ok so I thought about this one a bit. Idk if the meanings i used are poetry legal or not but we’ll see if the poetryFBI breaks down my door.

The serpent represents evil, and the red represents bad emotions. The serpent also represents rebirth or new life, which attributes to negative emotions cycling through my head over and over. The morning mist is what’s happening rn lol. 4am mood.
144 · Feb 2020
Connections
Ayn Feb 2020
A house is a home,
But only if one makes it so.
In a home,
You can drip emotion,
Free of care or conservation.
In a house
There’s no lack of protection,
But the loneliness becomes an infection.

I have a house,
But I want to make it home.
144 · Feb 2022
Untitled
Ayn Feb 2022
Even in the dark, comets still fly
Like a radiant moth called to flame.
Hidden among lost and frozen stars,
Acceptance lay still and forgotten;
A consistent game of stagnation,
Until the hunter found the fountain;
Until you found me.
This poem is my feelings of a while bundled up into one poem. A lot has happened since I last posted and only now am I in the mood to write, now that it’s all almost over. Each line has 9 syllables, until the last line breaks the pattern.
142 · Apr 2021
Untitled
Ayn Apr 2021
As the clock continues
Its everlasting tick,
The candle begins to sing.
Weaving words of spider silk,
Leaving a trail of scentless smoke
Through the silent night.
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