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Ayn Oct 2020
When time unveils it’s trickery,
The moon will show it’s hidden face.
We are all under the countless stars,
All are in the worldly compass of greed.
Just a thought
Ayn Apr 2020
A world to repair
And a wrench in your hands.
The rusted bolt of despair
Has long since plagued these lands

Where are the birds that flew;
Through the sky, in pairs of two.
Where are the trees that grew;
With leaves and sap that stuck like glue.
The golden world’s in your hands too,
Why not make this gray sky blue?
Show us the world that’s true,
Bring out your natural hue.

Bring out our natural hue.
Inspired by the song “Flamingo”
Ayn Mar 2021
The darkness brings comfort
With a touch of suffocation.
All’s not unwell, though,
For he exists too
Within this space made for two.
Silently peering,
Deathly fearful of rest
Or of a loss of control.

Both of us are but mere parts
To a far greater whole.
Is it really better? Can I state thar with confidence? No, and no.
Ayn Feb 2021
The tug,
The pull,
The snap.

Giving way to the fall.
Time, flowing like water
Among glittering beaches.

Darkness moves in,
But a flaming defiance
Rises like a screaming gale
Along the gap
Where the string once existed.

In the flames of renewal
A new string is born,
Holding back
With a grip like thorns.

Spiraling in and out
Of a fruitful Existence,
We stand on the brink of life.
Hi~ hi~ everyone! I was listening to some Bring Me The Horizon today, and I caught myself thinking what would happen if I just drove my car into a tree (while I was driving my car I thought of this). I knew it was a dodgy thing because I don’t know how fast before I die. In the end I figured out one thing. If I went fast enough, I’d be dying, blinking out of existence, but I’d be screaming to live, in every last cell of my body. This poem is to reflect that. I didn’t crash my car. I’m not dead yet *******! (Said in a joking manner)
Ayn Jan 2021
I’m the whisper
Among the piercing scream;
The subtle vertigo
Of an early morning dream.

I’m the darkest burning star;
Your wandering mind
When you’ve gone too far.

I’m the voice you could not hear;
The voice you should not fear.
Advice that most abhor,
Given with an air of valor.

Don’t follow my whispered suggestions,
All it becomes is bad recollections.
Ayn Feb 2021
The darkness holds me tightly,
Wrapping me within
Its—mine—our sin.

I see it shifting in the corner,
The forlorn spectral shade
Slipping through the thin fabric
Of my weak perception.

Embracing my body,
Living in my soul;
The shadow lies dormant,
With it I feel whole.
It’s not just the good parts that make us up, it’s the bad parts too. I started watching people stream videogames. It’s actually pretty chill.
Ayn Jun 2020
Now is the time
When those
Who normally seem
Sensible,
Become the
Insensible.
I have my own feelings about the turmoil this country is in, but I’m afraid to express my opinion about it. I might not say why some things are morally wrong without angering people. I am only 16. I can’t vote, I can’t get my license, I can’t do much. All I can do is be aware. I refuse to participate in this. Not because I don’t know who’s side to pick, but because I will not generate more hate and turmoil in this society.
Ayn May 2020
As long as my heart keeps beating,
It will keep unrequitedly loving.
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.
Ayn Mar 2022
Daunting voices call my name;
Each breath full of manic mirth.

The sunlight falls
Like distant snowflakes,
Dusting a golden plain
With an auburn hue.

As the sky grows dark,
I see less and less,
But hear more and more.

A crescent guillotine hangs in the sky
As I absentmindedly envision
These fruitful moments to be my last.

The mirthful voices once more,
And engulf me in their mania.
My head hits the floor
While my consciousness washes away;
As if it were an eternal shore.
Ayn Dec 2021
The vile thorn
Piercing like an unseen razor.
Infecting the wound
Like a midsummer overcast;
Sudden and volatile.

It whips and warps you,
A slight touch of the thorn;
A graze with death’s finger.

Within my mind the thorn resides,
An affliction to my mind.

I am dull,
I am vile.
Ayn Feb 2021
Tugging at my eyes
With the gentle touch
of a light-bathed savior,
Time has once again
Caused me to lapse
Into the world of waking dreams.

Reading what I hear
But all I hear is latin;
The voices in the confusion.

Spikes cloud my vision,
Disintegrating the border
Of self-awareness.
Half baked poem. I’m too afraid to sleep ****. I’m such a ******* wimp sometimes. Honestly I know it doesn’t matter in 2021, but I feel like if someone listed out my qualities to a stranger the stranger wouldn’t even think for a second that I’m a dude. It’s almost pitiful, but it isn’t, so that’s what matters.
Ayn Jan 2021
As we make this mess whole,
We look into the distance, intoxicated
By the silent, corrupt vessel.
A terror once prominent, now abated.

A sickness soon to grow,
But the infection has long sat, dormant.
Break the dam, beckon in the flow,
And watch as we sing our silent lament.
My parents seem to be under the impression that I’m a closeted transgender. I’m trying to figure out how to tell them that dudes are allowed to like cute stuff too ****.
Ayn Dec 2021
Suffocation:
A silence so potent
Where the air itself freezes,
And life no longer breathes.
I hate what I’ve done and I want to destroy myself for it. Why do i hate it? Why do i hate myself for it? It was all okay. Nothing was wrong. We both enjoyed it. You want it to happy again but i feel sick thinking about it. WHY?
Ayn Sep 2020
Needles working into my throat,
As alarm bells ring through my ears.

A softly falling drop of liquid air
Dispersed into the vacuum of space.

If no place exists for me to breathe,
Then I’ll choke on the music.
I’ll end the show before the final dance,
And let the curtains close,
Bringing closure to my contract with life.
Ayn Nov 2020
Standing on the cracks,
I flip to the last open page.
Emotions dragging my into chains...
The air around me still feels like a cage.
Living in a camouflage
Of the things within my rage.
Ayn Jan 2021
Fuzzy nightmares,
And lurking daydreams.
Hiding from the ends
That justify my means.

It’s all led me astray
There’s always another day,
But there’s always debts...
Which I need to repay.
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.
Ayn Oct 2020
As life flows over the ledge,
We watch the waves push them back.

Them,
The trillions of voices,
Of souls,
That precede our beckon into
This oceanside cliff.
Ayn Jun 2020
Numbers rising
Like falling stars.
Galaxies away?
No...
Right outside my door.
Covid numbers are rising around the world. We recently hit 10 million cases, and 500,000 (yes with 5 zeros) of those people died. Please stay safe everyone. We are having almost 200,000 new cases each day because everything is opening up.
Ayn Feb 2021
Spiraling through the sharpened skies,
Slicing at the wind
With a blade sharper than air.
We say all’s fair,
But with a corrupt mind and body
Do I have any right to endorse it?

In a world of bladed air,
The act of falling
Hurts more than the impact.
This is the world we live in today. If you are cast out by society, the fall to rock bottom hurts mire than being at rock bottom.
Ayn May 2020
Swirling colors
And vibrating air,
Filling my world;
Shaking my spine.

The world has moved so much
And now I’m moving off a lifeline.

Now I fall.
The realm of ash awaits,
And I hit the ground with a flume.
Ayn Dec 2020
It’s a day of fun
Just one of those days,
No need to run;
It’ll all be done.

It’s an endless time
And time’s never kind,
So count my teardrops;
All hundred-eighteen of them
We’ll see this one through;
Watch the sunset’s red gem,
Then we’ll know
Time’s kindness once again.
Ayn Feb 2021
A violent struggle for air,
Lasts like a star’s radiant flare.
As the void turns to ashes,
Breath resumes control;
A frozen silencer thawed dry.
Ayn Dec 2020
Gentle white outlines,
Glittering in the gaze.

A hanging breath
Coating the air
Like a newborn’s blanket.

A frosted world,
Sweet,
Sour,
And all that lies between.
However,
You can’t have your cake and eat it too... unless you bought it and you live alone... but even then there’s still bacteria
Ayn Feb 2021
Dancing to the music
Which has long ended,
Static replaces
The now distorted confusion
Leaving a shimmering illusion.

Forgetfulness is an imperfect crime,
And so I truly am
Everywhere at the end of time.
“Everywhere at the End of Time” - The Caretaker
Ayn May 2020
The pages lie before me, still lined.
The night is stalking closer,
I don't need to mind.

A light lies beyond the wall;
A wall to block it's flares.
even in this darkness, I'll stand tall.

These pages have now turned blind,
it's too dark for them to see,
and no more are they lined.
Ayn Nov 2020
Feel the sting;
Feel the *****.
Within the bell’s ring,
And the clock’s tick,
Lies the burden.

Feel the sting,
Feeling time
Bearing down.
Ayn Jun 2020
The roses kneel
Before the trees
The shadowed reveal
Before the breeze.

The smell of rain
In the sky.
My tears are gone
And the well is dry.

Why am I welcomed
By burning pages
And culling voices?
Ayn Jun 2020
A citric eastern breeze
Beckons in frosted waves.
A mosaic of spectral sun
Drawn upon the fractured glass.
Surf exploding onto rocks
Like the trillions of stars
Now twinkling,
At twilight.
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.
Ayn Feb 2021
What ails these sorry veins,
Plaguing the mind and soul alike?
Boiling blood, sores and pains,
Killing what’s left of life.

Maybe rubies are all I need;
To make a mark and watch it bleed.
I’ve overworked this sickness further into me. I can’t even laugh it off anymore, I don’t have the strength. It’s tearing me apart.
Ayn Jan 2021
Through time’s distorted glass,
I’m led to believe
On what you were,
Not on what you’ll be.

It’s sad to see
This distortion affect me,
But now it’s my reality.
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
Ayn Dec 2020
In soft light,
Veiled by the air itself
Sits turquoise waters,
Emitting an aged gray
Towards distant eyes.

A soundless world,
Save the bubbles of noise
Which harbor life as we know ir.

The water’s gentle gale
Pushing lopsided blades
Towards a clashing sea;
Tossing them around the current.
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.
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.
Ayn May 2020
How
Many
More
Words
Before
My
Denial
Turns
To
Realization?
Ayn May 2020
In time,
Sparks will fall.
Flames will roar
Over the shimmering horizon.
A well-done sky,
No way to return,
But one way to cry.
Ayn Dec 2021
How many small lies
Have I imprinted
How many are left?
Ayn Oct 2020
Maybe it’s not
A needle and thread,
But a voice.
One which carries words
On waves above a crowd.
Someone does need to weave words, but I now know that the truly unique people can do that, and then speak those words flawlessly. To ignite a spark of emotion that lights a flame of passion. That’s what I wish to be.
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.
Ayn Apr 2021
Whispers follow me,
Muttering their taunting mirthful cry.
I listen from my liar’s chair,
Too far gone to care.

Smothered voices sing to me,
Calling out my name
Through distorted chords.

I have no lips to speak of,
No eyes to embrace the world;
Only these silent ears,
Listening to my tormentors fears.
Ayn Jan 2021
As the sunrise’s claymore
Is the blazing creator
Of our earthly existence,

The moonlight’s spear
Is the slice right through the vein,
Revealing what we try hide.
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.
Ayn Feb 2021
False whispers
Sounding alarms,
Poisoning the will;
Drowning the ill.

Pulling you down
Just to push you up,
And burrow inside you,
To be a viciously vicarious
Vile remnant
Of whats long gone.
Ayn Mar 2022
I call for the moon,
Welcoming its gaze.
It’s gentle, cold beams
Render my skin blue,
And bring light to my being.
Ayn Mar 2022
I say good morning once more,
Your feeble pleas fall silent
As i exit the door.
Ayn Jan 2021
Fluorescent shadows
Quake on the concrete.
Like autumn leaves
In a solitary plain,
The ****** and disappear.

Shadows of men I don’t see,
I guess they’ll always be there,
Haunting me.
Ayn Apr 2021
Within shining walls,
He lies on opulence.
If only time was kind enough
To let him lie forever.

In the end,
He has to stand.
In the end,
Time beckons forgetfulness.
There’s a bit of a double entente in this poem. It came in naturally at first, but I probably forced it in at the end. The riches suggested by opulence are riches of the mind, otherwise known as knowledge. That’s why the last line is what it is.
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