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Nov 2016 · 391
Mountain Boy
Alyson Byrne Nov 2016
I tried to memorize every inch of you
The way the right side of your face
Dimples and your eyes squint
And light up as bright as the city
Below those mountains we climbed
The way your fingers became
Spider legs crawling to find the right words
But I always became distracted
By the explosions of my insides
Crumbling at the sight of you

I remember the way I felt
When your hand would brush my knee
As you gently switched gears
In that beautiful old Volvo
I wanted to drive for days
With no destination
I wish I was an extension of you
The way that car is

I tried to realize this could be it
So I held on to each passing moment
As if I gripped the seats hard enough
It wouldn't change to just another memory
And I could stay forever

And I don’t know if words
are better left unsaid

Or when you said 

I love you

It meant I’m sorry.

Now I'm reaching for moments
I let pass me by and I think
Maybe I didn't hold strong enough
I try and remember the way your
Eyes would glaze over and soak in
Every stupid story I've ever told
I'm dragging behind and I can't shake
The thought of you forgetting me too
And I'm reaching for answers
Of questions not yet formed
Nov 2016 · 529
Bitter taste
Alyson Byrne Nov 2016
sometimes i wish 

you were still the bitter taste 

left on my tongue 

instead of bleeding lips

and swallowed sweet nothings


sometimes i think

you’re the tar in my lungs 

and for a second when i can’t breath

i remember how it feels
to look at 
the icy rivers
and black hole iris 
of your being

sometimes i wish

i knew how your hands felt
around my neck

but i think i thought i felt them there

since the night you left 
me choking
on lies 
that spewed with warm *****

and blaming tears on the stormy weather

sometimes i think

you think all the same 

or maybe i just wish too much 

pleasure and pain go hand in hand 

but to me 
with you

its just the same
Dec 2013 · 1.1k
Untitled
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
"Love and pain go hand in hand"*
he said to me with roses.
And on the concrete ground where our eyes first met
the thorns cut thru my static, once numb chest.
He took the key he crafted when lands forced us to part
And the chains remained binding, wrapped so tight,
locked to him forever more.

He bound me up that night at the docks,
the city rush became the soundtrack of newfound love.
We imprinted our existence to his leather-bound book,
a story that became etched into my soul
in a language only he could decode.
Time passed quicker than the cars I almost still hear echo.
Too soon he was locked in pages of the past

That night at the docks, the willows enraptured,
welcoming us home, we found our kingdom.
We clung to the scarce grass as if we could hold
on to that moment in time for eternity.
It blew on with the wind, singing a cadence on repeat,
so deceptive yet ever resolving
Each second became the last
Being late never tasted so bittersweet;
For we became kids with no concept of time
and no grasp for words.
Silence never resonated so loud
as when we lost all will to speak.

I yearned to learn every reflection of your black hole iris
Longed to learn each blinding shimmer, no matter how lost I might have become
I felt something in a familiar gaze,
a desire forgotten0, or not yet found
The water before us mirrored broken reflections of his sparking eyes
The skyline before us could have never over shined
his beautiful silhouette, illuminated beyond the moon, city or stars.
But, love and pain go hand in hand
I am forever more reminded by these scars
Dec 2013 · 655
Devils chokehold
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
The devils claw grips your throat.
Every word you’ve been taught
ripped and slaughtered,
stolen with your screams-
Silenced

He calls on hell to drag you down.
Pressure pins you like a board,
crushing your lifeless limbs.
Mind and body fight through dimensions,
breath weakened and weary.
Paralyzing pain and darkness
swallows you whole.

A reoccurring but distant whisper seeps
close, stinging your ears,
Ringing and possessing.
Claiming you his until sun’s birth.
For there’s no rhyme or reasoning
evil runs its own course
no barriers or rules.
The greatest force knows no form.
Dec 2013 · 615
Where do you come from?
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
Where I come from does not define me
It is "where are you going?"
You should be asking
Though where I was may help shape
and create me,
Or perhaps help you understand me,
All that can change tomorrow, you see,
I am on a continuous path
To where I am going for
Yesterday will not matter
Tomorrow it'll be gone
So I tell you;
I come from today.
Dec 2013 · 555
I cannot reach the past
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
My internal world does not match the exterior
I open my eyes and the flourishing trees
Are bare and shivering
Your face has grown old, years of pain,
Yet I did not see it change.

Your prickly chin now rest above my head
Now hung in dispare, trying to disconnect the past;
My present

The pain you bring is the pain I create
The tides don't pull when I'm not by the sea
The rain doesn't fall when I can't feel the tears of the sky
The wind doesn't sing when I don't feel the rush
The sun doesn't shine when I'm locked in the dark

And my heart doesn't best when it does not belong to you.
Dec 2013 · 730
Machine
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
The world turns within and without you
Though contains you, does not limit you.

I am one, I am all -but
A messenger of lies
Or a masked carbon copy
Or a vessel planted to the cold groud,
Though do not abandon my roots.

I am a passion filled star beaming towards the earth
Conditioned far beyond conformity
Listen close, don't be blinded by aesthetic beauty

My words, there lies the message
You are free
Free from machine
The mechanism will function within or without you.
Dec 2013 · 563
America runs on control
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
Millions of sense, on which the country runs,
Thrown mindlessly into the register,
As meaningless as the blank robot faces
Making their routine stop

They feed their trained starving mouths
Filled and spilled with empty substance
Chemicals mixed to send shock to
Molded wired brains

Hm, black suit today.. It reeks of death
Black suits and briefcases stinking up
The stale space between the four walls,
That lock them in tighter than their own minds,
But not strong enough to mask the stale burnt beans

Mask, masked faces, painted smiles,
tired, tired eyes
Leave
Their pockets that much emptier.
Dec 2013 · 914
Truth is...
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
Truth is-
Truth is a lie
For I am trapped in a reality
Of one not conditioned for my kind
Perception is key to the unlocked universe
But what if I'm locked out of the world in which I was born?
I don't speak their language or get their jokes,
But since we are being honest, I don't care
All the pretty images, no thought evoked
In my own dimension, no one stares.
Dec 2013 · 554
Baby Grand
Alyson Byrne Dec 2013
Compose our story on cold wood we clutch,
let fingers play that familiar tune.
The keys, they trickle as light as your touch
on my hips, soft, then hear that tension boom.

A trace is broken as passion crashes,
consonance only our bodies can create
like something seen in light of matches.
The strings come to life, a scene to narrate.

Reflection dim in that old baby grand
the echoed sound and crash reoccured,
two lovers intertwine, soul in his hand.
The sweetest melody they’ve ever heard.

And although keys may grow out of tune and crack,
those hands forever keep me crawling back.
My first sonnet

— The End —