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Riley Ayres Oct 2017
Gone are the days where grace lay sleepless,
amiss are the thoughts that transpire the grey.
Begotten the creation of hearts now scattered,
the ink forever bleeding as it seeps through the page.

Nights grew colder as time became wrestless,
each second made longer tormented it ticks.
As her face etched with pain becomes petrified with anger,
the lullaby by which grace sleeps once again.

The nouns that she speaks are lucid and scattered,
trembling at the parting of her lips crimson plead.
Thoughts that prolong the way she's left awoken,
sleeping forever as the hours drip away.
Riley Ayres Jul 2015
She paints,
a glorious array of colours spread carefully across the canvass,
profusely creating a story
as though Tim Hughes himself had been handed a brush.

Her longing portrayed in the most painful way,
the bristles soaked in a blood red dye
much like what used to pour from her wrists.

crafting,
building,

The picturesque yet un-ideal images,
in a way only she knows how.
Riley Ayres Apr 2015
Your body is falling in reverse
As your lips start to tremble,
Each touch a whisper in the wind
Each kiss a word not spoken.

Love is that unexplainable gift,
That seems to fall from the stars unchanging,
You get lost in its tight embrace
And your heart is never the same

When they beat you blind and senceless
And your heart turns forever cold,
Your lips cant speak the words
Even though you need to let go.

You long for the pain to stop
Each blow digging you deeper
Into the fear brimmed hole your trapped in
And the pain only lasts

As long as she sees fit.
Riley Ayres Aug 2014
Time and time again I find myself,
Repeating the words I often let loose,
From my lips of which a million sonnets,
Speak through ashy remains of fire.

Yet here I am again lost in my own mind,
The touch of the wind forcing me to gain a trust,
Between myself and the nature that surrounds,
Its broken beauty seeping through remnants.

Your heart is that of silver,
Expensive but not quite a golden artwork,
As one I would find in the national gallery,
To feast my eyes upon its rituals.

Yet here I sit upon the ground,
As you stand above me with a gaze of a million kisses,
And I wonder what my life would be this day,
If we hadn't crossed paths the next.

I wonder how much damage you have endured,
And then I look back at my own and realise,
I am a broken mess of forgotten dreams,
A hopeless reality shattered by grace.

Yet here I continue to sit,
The goosebumps trailing my arms like snakes,
An analogy that frightens me,
Just as your love scares me to the bone.

Chance after chance,
Time after time,
I run back to your perfect eyes and charming smile,
Because you help me to forget who I really am.

You bring out my smile and banish my selfish ways,
You allow me to remain myself yet different at the same time,
And I cannot help,
But love you...
Riley Ayres Jun 2014
as insanity depicts my pride,
I look at you in a way that I can't look at anyone else,
as you are constantly on my mind,
and the droplets fall in a way like never before.

you're heart encases me,
consuming everything I have within its arteries,
each thought becomes more liquefied,
as I try to stop the pain.

"she wouldn't want you doing this"

I tell myself time and time again,
yet still as the capsule slips past my lips,
I find some kind of release in the burning sensation,
that starts to simmer in my throat.

your eyes, I try to picture your eyes...
yet still you are not here for me to see them in flesh,
one look from you and I would stop,
but one look is something you will not give.

relapse...

a pain that cannot be fathomed by a blade,
as you drag it from your elbow to your wrist.
I was a month clean but I can't help it now,
my body is dead.

Pain is a placid thing,
yet somehow it holds a power over me,
but, when I am with you it seems...
... that the hold it has is simply gone.

I can't seem to rendeer the thoughts of my childhood,
as I continue to do the inevitable,
have I slipped back into my old ways...
... Have I gone too far to go back now.

Relapse...

Relapse...

Relapse...

I am sorry I have let you down,
I am sorry that my callous ways are somewhat spiteful,
I may not have much self esteem,
but I know that I am selfish...

was I selfish in my dealings with you?
in the way I handled your gorgeous smile.
not that I recall..
yet I feel as though I have somehow

left, not to be welcomed back,
into you're arms of grace that make me collapse...

drag me out of this pit
save me from this relapse.
  May 2014 Riley Ayres
Miriam
love ruins things
it leaves us all destitute
and hungry for something else
greater than ourselves

it all ends
it all breaks
we all give up

what's the point of letting someone
who will eventually leave
see your bare soul?

i don't know i don't know i don't know

i just felt like i didn't belong

it just didn't feel right
and i didn't feel secure

his heart was made of broken eggshells
and i got tired of tiptoeing in his presence

i knew it was bound to break

"it's just love," he said

and that's exactly the reason why i left.
Riley Ayres Mar 2014
if life were really a tree,
mine would be cold,
dead from the frost

the leaves would have fallen
no hint of gold left on there surface
no love
no care

for this tree stands shorter than the rest
its breaths short
quivering in the silent wind

the trunk shrivels,
its bark turned grey
ashy remains through fire

it has burnt its unending river
of scarlet as its trunk is sliced to pieces

all you do is stand and watch
you watch them tear the tree apart
its beauty being lost each second that ticks by

If life were really a tree
you,

are my Tree Surgeon.
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