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Ciel Apr 2018
you wear your sadness so well.
I wish it would rain every day so I could constantly witness
the way your cheeks glow with the tears falling from your eyes
or the thunder of your voice as you sob through the night.
I love the way your brain tosses
and turns
and rummages
inside your skull
picking at old threads and littered notes.

I just hate cleaning up after a rampaging storm.
It's snowing in April
Ciel Dec 2016
Whisper in my ear
                     -sweet velvety verbatim.
Caress my thoughts
                    -rose-petal fingertips.
Comfort me.
Ciel Jul 2016
The poison is in all of us:
Half-smoked cigarettes lay on the side of grainy gravel paths,
crinkly Dollarama bags and glass beer bottles.
We relax on trees
backs against the braille texture of bark
that tries to speak to us in a language we don’t understand.
We lean back and raise our faces
towards the sunlight dancing between
the leaves of the canopy,
listening to the tires
whizzing against concrete,
but think it similar to the smacking of waves against stones;
lean back and savour the syrupy smell of maple trees
against our tongues,
thinking to ourselves
how grateful we are for nature
as we sit in a paradise of tall trees
their branches intertwined in a space
smaller than bathroom stalls;
lean back and breathe in exhaust
and cigarette smoke masked
behind a layer of sweet antiperspirants
and coconut-scented shampoos
as the wind whips hair against your face.
We take peaceful naps against the undeciphered braille,
but the poison is in all of us
and one day this paradise will become
A bed of dirt
blanketed by prickly store-bought
strips of grass.
Ciel Apr 2016
Fingers through grass,
Stained against flesh,
The water will never
wash away your crimes.
Rip it from the earth,
dirt against skin,
The water will never
wash away the sin,
Forever marked
against your
It's been a while since I've posted anything.
  Mar 2016 Ciel
It's like
Not being able
To see a painter
Or his painting
But peering
Into his mind
And seeing
What he wants
To portray
Sorry, i had to. It felt so poetic when i was saying it.
  Mar 2016 Ciel
Being strong is hard
And it is not always smart
Miserable, you try to hide your hunger
All the while, you forgot yourself
Trying to preserve any dignity
You lost what you had of a personality
You lost the human in you
And because of this mistake,
When you dig yourself out
You'll be nothing but flesh
The life you saved will be nothing
Nothing but an empty canvas
With no paint with which to work
And your life will be dull,
Meaningless, as it drags on
Until the split second before you die
And in that frame of time,
You'll remember who you were
You'll remember everything
And you'll wish you had died in the hole
Ciel Mar 2016
I envy you,
You, who has their future
all planned out
between the pages of the calendar
that’s been hanging on your wall
since December 31st,
changing every year with no delay
because you already know
all the important dates.

I envy you,
You, who has a dream,
the same dream you’ve had
since childhood
that’s changed or been tweaked
maybe once or twice
but that always becomes clearer.

I envy you,
You, who understands yourself
and who knows who ‘you’ are,
who understands your passions
and who knows what you want.

I envy you,
You, who knows what happiness is like,
and who has felt true sadness and despair
only a handful of times,
but who knows how to deal with it
and knows why it comes by.

I envy you,
While I sit here surrounded
by my sadness,
getting a glimpse of joy
maybe once over the weekend
and another if I wake up for sunrise.

While I sit here not knowing
who ‘I’ am
or what I love
or the emotions I feel.

While I sit here
without a dream in mind,
without a goal that I can run toward
Only sitting in a dark empty field
with no calendar in sight
because thinking about the days
that pass makes me feel empty inside.

So instead I sit here
on this bus full of people
that feels so empty and bleak.
While the fog from outside
clings to the windows
and blurs the thoughts in my mind,
thinking about ‘you’
and my envy
so green and so vast
it could be mistaken
for a meadow filled with grass.

I think about how I would
trade my life for yours.
But my mind disapproves
because then I would be
even less like the ‘me’
than I believe myself to be.

I know who I am because of
the emptiness I have
and for now it’s enough
and that’s all I need.

So instead I will sit here
and think of the many reasons why
I envy you.
It's been a while since I've posted.
Some parts of this poem I find a bit odd, constructive criticism is welcome.
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