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Aug 2019 · 117
The Princess and the Void
Hopeful Cynic Aug 2019
Pretty face with the emerald eyes,
Searching abroad for cloudless skies,
The last one took happiness with him,
Now she's stuck longing and wishing.

Now then she meets the void she never should,
Long hair, quick smile, he seemed so pure and good,
When he spoke her pain was echoed,
The way he knew her innermost struggles showed.

Yet he was different, tho she still held hope,
He let go of humanity in an effort to cope,
Unintentional bait, his trap was laid,
He now charged the world the price he'd paid.

And so she fell like late fall snow,
To early to live, melting to make another grow,
And she was ****** in, her hopes her dreams,
Until all that was left were her muted screams.

She loved the void, danced upon the outskirts,
But got too close and learned again how love hurts,
And he felt nothing, no guilt for his crimes,
For the void knows nothing, but the emptiness of his life.
Apr 2019 · 359
You
Hopeful Cynic Apr 2019
You
On you the scent of sweat and alcohol is perfume,
Every part of you calls to me here in the darkness of my room,
Do I listen to the soft silk of your hair?
Or the sound the moon makes caressing your skin so sublimely fair?
The sounds you make as we lay there,
Your breath, your words, symphonies to my ear.

Once, the golden sun kissed waters of emerald,
Exulting with bliss, the pink skies its herald,
Of the joy that comes from goodbyes well said,
And the last sight seen, his lover on her ocean bed,
Yet had he caught sight of you upon my chest so daintily arrayed,
The world would never again know night, on you his gaze would stay.

My ears are blessed with melodies from your lips,
Your smile mesmerising as I caress your hips,
My eyes close but my sight remains favoured,
By the nimbus of your beauty warm and meant to be savoured,
Then you lay still and I’m enraptured by your presence,
The way your heat seeps through me while I sip your essence.

You occupy every ounce of desire my mind contains,
My passion, your sighs and exultations sustain,
And as you dip below the horizon of sanity,
Driven by the way my tongue celebrates our humanity,
You adorn my embrace with the effortless allure of your shape,
And I’m lost once again revelling in the remnants of your taste.
Jul 2018 · 169
Untitled
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
One drop, a part of a flood, the disaster which drowns me in fears,
Your heart laid bare, your composure slipped, a happy life killed by your tears,
You are so strong, a monument of control, your sorrow makes me weak,
To end your pain, make you smile again, the cure I will forever seek.

You know this, but you need no one, your strength and prowess will serve you well,
Be it pride or fear, lessons once learned, even if you need me I don't think you'd tell,
But I will wait, in vain who knows, for the one chance that you do one day,
In that moment of weakness, when you yearn for me, to say it will be okay.
Jul 2018 · 233
My Beautiful Idol
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
She's young but old, her beauty calls my soul,
The world listens greedily when she laughs, her tears tear my heart in half,
The desires she inspires, give me all the motivation I require,
To remain at her side, she'd make a beautiful bride,
Her top layer is savage, her tongue primed to do damage,
But her heart is good as gold, fair and kind truth be told,
She pretends not to feel, but her emotions are very real,
Her happiness my heart's desire, of her smile I'll never tire,
She brings out from inside me, that smile which defines me,
If my words were kisses, she'd be covered like scales on fishes,
Her brilliance astounds, her opinions are profound,
I've found one worth respecting, there'll be no neglecting,
The fine jewel that she is, I'd change her to Mrs from miss,
But only when I have to offer, the best life possible for her,
She doesn't need me and never will, the miracle is that she even wants me still,
She's a person as gifted as I, yet one whose gifts are constantly applied,
She's hard working and dutiful, and oh so beautiful,
Can have any man she wants, as easily as selecting a font,
She's loyal a rare quality, she only goes to bed with me,
And there I fall into her arms, in the storm of life she's my calm,
Words can never describe her, there's no unit which can measure,
The worth of a woman so fine, nor the love I have for this creature divine,
If I could I'd destroy every clock in the world, so when it's time for her to go she'd never be told,
And I can languish in the pleasure, of a woman who's such a treasure,
And maybe one day, I'd find a way to repay,
The way she's made life for me, the happiest it can be,
If you ask me what I think about her, there's no woman better,
Would I ever cheat while I called her mine, yes I'd cheat death and old Father Time,
So with her forever I could I could fly, and never ever have to say goodbye.
Jul 2018 · 304
I, the Mayfly
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
It’s remarkable how now free, I am still in debt,
My soul mourns for its lost raison d'être,
I take steps to distraction for my neurosis to be pacified,
Though even when I convince myself I’m happy, my heart knows I lied.

I flit like a mayfly from diversion to recreation,
Doing what I can to survive this amputation,
Yet in a mayfly’s tiny existence what good are the stars,
Having seen the moon once, it’s brilliance would dominate his memoirs.

From the chaos which ensues a method can be gleaned,
A rhythm lying hidden in the embittered cacophony of my quarantine,
Nature abhors a vacuum, so the mayfly toils to fill it,
That space where once before love and contentment would sit.

The search yields many temporary results,
Momentary pleasures, suffocated by the loss in which he is still engulfed,
Ever looking, I find no release, only opiates,
It is evident now what I seek wears your face.

Flickering lights bring the mayfly to flights of many miles,
Yet he has only to look up to see beauty he can never reach despite all his wiles,
So it is that I arrive, at moments where I think I am happy once again,
Only to be haunted by your spectre, an eraser taken to a page I wish were written in pen.

It is obvious you were fine art, that my search is for your counterfeit,
But it’s impossible to find a counterpart, you and only you does your description fit,
And so the Mayfly at last looks down and speeds to his moon reflected in a lake,
He flies downward, ecstatic, not knowing it’s the last breath he’ll likely take.




The Mayfly is the shortest lived insect in the world, averaging a lifespan of 24 hours.
Jul 2018 · 1.3k
Baby won’t you try?
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
What is love, should it make us feel alone?
What is the love, the most frequent contact in my phone?
Where have you been, did I do or say something you couldn’t stand,
At the end of the day, am I even still your man?

I’ve been sitting on this for a long time, couldn’t speak my mind,
For fear of being obsessive, balance is hard to find,
But it’s getting to me now, my insides feel so dead,
When you were active, then online a few minutes ago and my message is still unread.

Is it that I’m too tedious, a difficulty in your life,
One you don’t know how to or are procrastinating from pushing me aside.
It’s not overthinking anymore I’ve applied the standard of the ordinary man,
And after so long what would he think when silence is the only indication of your plan?

I scroll past those Facebook posts every single day,
The ones that say if he wants you a second to say hello is a cheap price to pay,
My he’s a she, my she is you,
I don’t want that to change, but the choice was always left with you, that’s true.

Feel like I’m demanding, like a drain upon your time,
Afraid that’s how you see me, annoying like a project deadline,
Yet for projects you put in the effort, your priorities are in focus,
And I’d give anything for one of those priorities to be us.

You should know by now, and if you don’t I guess I’m telling you,
Knowing my place with you is important, but right now I don’t even have a clue,
I asked for more affection, you said you don’t want to change,
But would it be so insufferable to let me know I’m not estranged?
Jul 2018 · 252
Cold as J. Cole
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
There’s beauty in the struggle, loneliness in success,
But now I’m struggling to be successful and my beauty’s gone and left,
I won’t elaborate, in the past there’s only stress,
And I can safely say, no minute of it do I regret,
Now there’s someone new, to take away my breath,
And I crave the way she puts hands right on my neck,
Pain leading to heaven, suffocation my outlet,
But the pain is real, more so than the feelings I have left,
Pain doesn’t lie, ****** you with thoughts so perfect,
Then leave you in the cold, your blood dripping out dark and wet,
So I hold on to whats real, aspiring to someone I’ll never get,
And if I never do, she’ll never tear my heart in two, never will I  fret,
We’ll smile, we’ll laugh, we’ll watch many many a sunset,
And ever friends shall we be cuz no one calls a lost friend an ex.

Exes and ohs, scars written in bold,
Persons whose kisses have left and whose hands you’ll never again hold,
Passion now forced to be forgotten to give you a chance to heal your soul,
But it’s cold,
But its perfect, the way no story’s ever told,
When you love someone who doesn’t love you, its the safest thing you’ll own,
Who can take it away, it cant even be sold,
She protects you from the pain of losing another you think is “goals”,
And ever letting yourself get comfortable in a heart you thought was a home,
So you live the lonely life, it’s better on your own,
When there’s no one who you hold close, you’re much less disappointment-prone,
Maybe you’ll never be happy, maybe happiness is just a word,
Because it’s really just a high, way above the world,
Then the roller coaster dips, taking you back to the pain you’ve always known.
Jul 2018 · 1.5k
Cheating
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
I begged and begged and you said no,
Turned your back, said the feelings would go,
****** my way through a summer of fears,
But in the end found nowhere to end my tears.

Now you’re back, no we’re back,
And the good’s back with the bad right on track,
I feel love, I know you’re my “goals”,
But feeling loved I have not yet got, our story seems filled with holes.

This ain’t about that though, how much I want you to be my last,
It’s about a problem I’ve never had in the past,
The feeling to bury myself in many a willing hole,
The feeling to let someone else take care of my tired soul.

I want to be loved, I want it so bad,
My search for love was maybe selfish, just a tad,
Now I’m working on you, to be everything you could want,
But no matter how hard I try, you say there’s nothing you ever want.

It’s not your fault I’m helpless,
Only mine that I think you’re the best,
And I don’t listen when the world says let go, let it end,
I get right back up and start hoping again.

Compartmentalisation, you’re my ambition and my passion,
Recently though I’ve been tempted by temporary satisfaction,
Haven’t felt ****** desire for aught but you in weeks,
But emotional desire, for love returned, tenderness is what I seek.

Who knew this could ever be my weakness,
I hesitate at all to even speak this,
What I feel when you don’t answer my call,
Is a burning need for an answer from anyone else at all.

What is to cheat?
Is it only for bodies to meet?
Or can I have friends with intangible benefits who,
Love me unconditionally and would give me the moon.

“Friends” I shouldn’t lie,
To myself that is, sigh,
What they’d be is only used,
While I wait for you to grow into a person that’s not confused.

I’d throw them away, more persons hurt at my feet,
When all I really want is the sound of my name in your heartbeat,
Maybe it’s narcissistic, a selfish love at it’s worst,
But maybe it’s a good thing, my problem is emotional thirst.

And so I struggle, the fight is not lost nor won at all,
The fight to bear my emotional withdrawal,
All without looking for a cheap substitute,
When my dealer with the good stuff ignores my salute.
Jul 2018 · 250
Moonlight Heartbreak
Hopeful Cynic Jul 2018
On a moonlit plain, 
One, star-bright night, 
The lovers lay where others have lain,
And enjoy pretty much the same sight.
As she stares into his eyes
His love looks back,
And he hears her joy in heartfelt sighs,
And the brilliant smile that made his heart crack.
He knows, he knows, that this is the time,
She sees him tremble but doesn't know why,
Like a man on trial for a crime.
The wings of his heart beat, and he's about to fly, 
He steels himself, gathers his love, 
And produces the proof of his desire,
A glinting ring, as from a treasure trove,
Shines bright to match his eyes' fire,
But she looks on in scared dismay,
As he gets down on one knee, 
He presents his token, she begins to pray,
And gets ready to flee,
He says those words 'I love you'
Normally a feast of delight,
Today they cut her heart in two,
And hers would not be the only one tonight.
'Will you marry me?' he asks hope and happiness in his eyes,
And she says no...
Now there's only surprise,
And slowly down, his tears flow.
She was not ready.

— The End —