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 May 2016 Leaetta May
ryn
Older
 May 2016 Leaetta May
ryn
My mirror hangs stoic,
as silently it absorbs all it could with unbiased eyes.
All it receives under the day's sun.
Yet it never stores...
Not memories recent...
Not images perceived from the distant past...

My mirror
exists in the now.
It gives me only the present.
It reveals unequivocally the ground
upon which I stand.
It divulges only in the brutal and honest truth.
The kind of truth photographs could never tell.

Today it showed me what I've been seeing
with eyes half shut.
It showed me that,
I am older now.
Older than I was yesterday.
Older than I was a second ago.

Every wrinkle told a silent tale.
Every tale left quiet scars.
Every scar sang requiems of past mistakes.
And every mistake costed me my youth.

My mirror showed me that...
I'm older now because I've learnt much.
And I'm learning much more
because I'm older now.
An old photograph of myself inspired this.
 May 2016 Leaetta May
ryn
Basslines
 May 2016 Leaetta May
ryn
.

estrate the          
orc-                       opus           
ong•                                  of right        
     of s-                                            and wr-            
      gh power                                        ong•k-       ⚫️  
    tales throu-                                       eep me             
   tell me...                                           ground-      ⚫️
                                                 ­            ed throu-          
                                                ­         gh lyrics          
                                                     worded          
                                                strong•        
                                          embed  ­      
                                       solid b-        
                                 assline-        
    ­                   s that        
              guide        
      me a-          
lon-            
     g...                          
•                              


The soundtrack to life deserves the most wicked of baselines.
.
 May 2016 Leaetta May
ryn
.

How do we mend wavering pedestals...
When the ground beneath is parched dry.
Stemming off loose foundations that time had weathered wry.

How do we mend broken gazes...
When watchful eyes which were meant to see,
are blinded by the onslaught of half-truths and fallacy.

How do we mend burnt bridges...
When we never look back to trace heavy missteps.
We fail to admit to consciously springing obvious traps.

How do I mend ailing hearts...
When familiar corridors seem warped to a bend.
When my own is struggling and perpetually on the mend.
Flashes of long lost decadence
Clothed in shabby cloaks of misdemeanor.
Windswept nostalgia, stayed and sleeved
By the breeze that haunts a forests tree.

Leave it be, the wind said to me.
Let the leaves be leaves,  
Let the trees be trees,
For their roots run deep,
Far deeper than you may perceive.
There shall be no shelter
From shadowed hypocrisy.
For the stars shine bright and just
That all the mortal men may see.
All that you wish.
All that you believe.
Are just two diverging branches
From the same forgotten tree.

Rotten with the cynicism of age
The bark chips fast,
Squalid lackluster page.
Built upon the decay of rage
Fallow thoughts they plough the land.
Reaped by those deemed unworthy.
Truth uprooted by savage hand.
 May 2016 Leaetta May
Amber
You are the pressure  that sits on my heart
the kind that stays  under my skin everyday.
Without  me detecting your  purpose
I have been exposed  to the  kind details of how
weight less your  love is.
Leaving no prints
and without an interaction
I am without a surface
But like the moon I orbit  around you
as you absorb my own reflection
but reject me once   our minds
conflict.
I would have missed  you,
If it was not for the  delete  button.
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