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  Jul 11 Ophelia Ray
Margrett Gold
we seesawed on sallow vines,
it gripping the crux of me
mid-swing,
pioneering through overcast intuition,
yet seemingly nearer to the light.
There are so many times that I base my reactions only on my own perspective, no matter how smart I think I am  handling" it" and we're creating our own functionality. I'll have epiphanies at times when answers seem simple, and then it changes as if the light is always in my peripheral reach. We learn every day through new experience, but each of us experiences differently and has one's own interpretation, which is why it seems to me, that nothing is solid. Even scientific fact changes as the world moves on. It doesn't wait on others to finally notice, try as we might to keep up.
-just a scattered rant.
Ophelia Ray Dec 2018
when I walk alone
it gets dark too quickly and I sink
into mesh.
siphoned through waves, lifeless
hues of mostly brown and white,
not really grey
like I like

and not really stale,
just not right.
the words, the noise, the light
penetrate the sigh in my mind
then dissolves up in smoke
I'm not really high

depressed
Ophelia Ray Mar 2018
Abolish indignity
exist Intangibly
Embrace your ethereal essence.
**** it if no one else gets it.
Substantial shallowness
is too little
too less,
to grasp your Unearthly Finesse.
#magicalbeing #finesse #untouchable #beyou
Ophelia Ray Mar 2018
My dear old flame
I'd sigh with your name,
follow you
then lost in your eyes.

No they aren't as clean
nor as deep or as blue,

they aren't the sky
or the ocean
or pools.

oh no, not pristine, luster of glass.

The closer I'd peer
into them
by the end
You'd appear to me, but an ***.
Ophelia Ray Aug 2017
My favorite chocolate bicycle drips in the sun
I could smell it for miles, and they could too
sugary gooey, milky.
Bare feet sink into the pedals
squish through my toes
thick muddy
mouth-watering,
squelch.
Hands coated in
rich salted sweet
steering is difficult.
Delicious drizzles down my kneecaps and calves
**** sticking and sliding on the seat
I barely make it home with
all of the children rushing after me
to steal my chocolate bike
before it melts.
Ophelia Ray Aug 2017
White, black, grey
polaroid
memories in colorless tone.
Shining white
white like your eyes
torrid and hanging
anguishing
white.
White grinning
gorging on fear
gripping
white.
White
foam forming at the corners of your mouth.
your hair shone white.
Grey as I looked up,
Black is what followed.

— The End —