rayma

rayma Sep 2019

Devilish days do well to waste,
with blackout curtains and ink-stained hands,
waiting for sunset when time’s erased.

Those feeble floorboards you often paced,
will creak and moan ‘til you understand;
devilish days do well to waste.

Fight for the feelings that have been replaced,
fight to keep hold of those waning strands,
waiting for sunset when time’s erased.

The sun will set on all you’ve faced,
an eclipse which you cannot withstand;
devilish days do well to waste.

And *****-laced tear tracks chased
by broken glass that pours out sand,
waiting for sunset when time’s erased.

When your thoughts have been misplaced,
I’ll be there to take your hand.
Devilish days do well to waste,
waiting for sunset when time's erased.

written for the fifth Creative Writing prompt - any form! We discussed villanelles in class, and although I wanted to try something I hadn't heard of, my heart led me back here. I always tend for free form, so writing within very specific rules was different, fun, and super frustrating. I love the structure of a villanelle, but I ended up with three words for which it was super hard to find applicable rhymes, but I was determined to keep my opening stanza. It was like some crazy puzzle with words!

#villanelle #depression #isolation #anxiety #beginnings

rayma Sep 2019

I

It took me ages to learn how to separate we from I
and to finally see the person I suppose
Everyone else saw; the “I”
presented in peals of laughter and a love
too intense for either of us to bear. My
love, a hurricane, beautiful from a distance but riddled with scars.

I do it because
everyone needs a taste of unconditional. They
blister and spiral because they have
yet to learn…to know how it feels to have stayed.

It’s something that you learn to live with,
to always have a piece of “Me”
left behind, initials in a heart that no longer
knows that letter of the alphabet. I am missing more than
I should, but I have retained what is most
important. In a sea of capsized people,
There is one letter I will always have.
- I

from Scars by Nikita Gill. Written for my fourth Creative Writing prompt - a golden shovel. This one was fun because you're forced to stay in these parameters of what the poem down the side will let you do. It was weird and awkward, but I'm pretty pleased with the outcome. It was cool discovering the golden shovel form. Read the last word of each line and you have Scars by Nikita Gill :)

#relationships #codependancy #selflove #love #scars #broken

rayma Sep 2019

shooting stars and wishing wells

I can’t help but think that I’m not the only one,
But wonder it so.
We can all wish for something we cannot have.
We can all chase our dreams,
in the dark,
grasping blindly at shooting stars and wishing wells.

I like to think that wishes on stars
really do come true.
I like to think that,
one day,
things will be different,
And I will find my way back to you.

written for my third Creative Writing prompt - an exquisite corpse made in class, where we had to keep at least two consecutive lines. The first three lines are from the original.

#longing #exquisite #corpse #wishing #love

rayma Sep 2019

x marks the spot

Paint is never quite the shade we imagined.
The lines are never straight enough.
The page always looks a little too blank.

There are perfections in every imperfection,
Buried under crossed out lines and
crumpled pieces of paper.
Every eraser-stained, college ruled notebook
full of half-baked ideas and smudged words that
just don’t quite feel right.

The final product is in there somewhere,
like black-out poetry stitched together,
patched up,
and transformed into something beautiful.

- x marks the spot

written for my second prompt in Creative Writing - an ars poetica

#ars #poetica #writing #process #standards

rayma Jul 2019

sunflowers and cinnamon

It’s scary to say
When you’ve heard it before,
through teeth covered in blood
and a bit of your heart back there between the molars.

It’s okay,
You thought it was real,
they thought it was real,
but one of you were lying.
Or maybe you were just lying to yourself.

It’s scary to say.
It’s scary to even think,
and the moment you realize it, a different three words come to mind.
****.
Not again.

It’s scary to say,
And you sat there with tears in your eyes
and said you were scared.
I said I was scared too.

We’ve been here before
at the crossroads of Too Soon and Two Hearts
in Rhythm Together.
But this time was different,
because this time
we fell together.

Words cannot capture the moment you looked at me,
both of my hands in yours.
Two hearts
in rhythm
together.
And you said the thing we were both too scared to say.

It’s scary to say,
but I love you.
Wildly, passionately.
Brighter than sunflowers and
sweeter than cinnamon.

I love you,
and the next day it’s just as scary,
but we’re strong,
and we’re curious,
and I don’t think we’ve ever been here before.

for my fellow cancer and the other half of my heart x

#love #fear #relationships

May 2019

b e mccomb

i dread the day

i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place

copyright 8/6/18 b. e. mccomb

#love #depression #mentalillness

Mar 2019

Joliver

Okay

If there was one word
One word, isolated by itself
That I cannot stand above all others
It would have to be "Okay"
I despise "Okay"
"Okay"
Is how your millionth day at work went
"Okay"
Is off-brand raisin bran
"Okay"
Is how you say life is going
When you don't want to admit you spend
Every second of it
Wanting to die

"Okay"
Is packed to the brim with
Hidden implications
Like a treasure chest
Filled with bottles
With little subliminal hatreds
Written on tiny slips of paper
Passively aggressively pushed inside
To discover later
As I pull out a treasure map
And try to decipher
Where I went wrong

"Okay"
Is a one word dismissal
That feels like an essay a thousand pages long
"Okay"
Is a poison dripping with disinterest
When I dared to share with you
Something I thought might make you smile
"Okay"
Is like trying to talk to a wall
While watching the paint on it dry
"Okay"
Takes two seconds to write
Yet I waited days
For that dreaded word
To grace my notifications
"Okay"
Should be used sparingly
As if each time you send it
You **** the receiver just a little bit
"Okay"
Should not be said so often that
I know what you're about to say
Like I saw it in a crystal ball
"Okay"
Is not looking up from your phone
When I tell you about my day
"Okay"
Is not the proper response
To "I love you"

They say that the opposite of love isn't hatred
It's indifference
And I can't think of a response
More indifferent to pouring out
My heart into your hands
Than "Okay"
At least the last thing you said to me
Before we parted ways
Showed that you cared
At least a little bit
"I hate you"
Stung less
Than the thousands of times
Over our countless conversations
You responded
"Okay"
Okay?

#love #heartbreak #hate #okay #hurt