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Ceryn Mar 2014
Tonight, you should know that I hate you.

I hate your handsome face.
I hate your passionate eyes.
I hate your flawless skin.
I hate your **** style.
I hate your messy hair.
I hate the way you smile.
I hate the way you sweep me off my feet.
I hate the way you bring me to life.
I hate the way you make me smile when you know we're both that lonely.
I hate the way you keep me craving for your words that seem to me a remedy.
I hate the way you pull me in and love the way you love me.
I hate the way you love to see me fall into you so helplessly.
I hate the way you take advantage of my short-term honor and fame.
I hate the way you think I don't notice that you never really feel the same.
I hate the way you only want to get what you think you need now in your life.
I hate the way you leave me hanging while I hope for another chance.
I hate the way you just don't care if I'm still feeling good or otherwise.
I hate the way you say you miss me when I know you're downright fine.
I hate the way you say you love me when your heart doesn't really need mine.

*I just hate the way I hate you now when I know I didn't really have to lie.
Ceryn Mar 2014
Can we putter away
a hundred and more days
when all we ever wanted
is to be found at last
in this totally murky space?

Do we regret the hours
we spent together
savoring the words
that don't even matter
to anyone, anyhow
locked up hands
among the naughty crowd?

Shall we toss these letters
out our blood-stained windows
and wished for something
that hadn't caused us jitters
like a genuine touch
from a mother that really cares
but 'twas all lust
we just gave in to our fears?

How do I hate what I didn't mean to love?

Must have been wise enough to know
I could've written a better show
Just that mad to have been carried away
by your love that only crossed my way
unfortunately,
half a day.
Ceryn Mar 2014
I admit.
I am your utterly
disillusioned waste of space.
I play the prominent part
in a lavish masquerade
of all the world's lowly taste.

A fiasco
in my past state.
A ruin
in progress.
A vision of demise
when tomorrow commences.

Sheer disappointment,
I caused to thee.
Holds back from life,
my destiny.
Knuckling under
the dull moonlight
all of my dreams
as they lose from sight.

It's true,
I've been a fool,
making lots of awful tunes.
Wrapping up mem'ries
with shabby rhymes.
Hiding under the rubble
of my shattered life.

I then concede.
I ask you all to plead
from your many gods
forgiveness for a soul
who had lost all control.

Truly,
it was nice
to hear a plentiful
sorrowful
terrible cries.

But no matter what goes on
in the head of the overthrown,
I had to slowly surrender
and give up my own disguise;
it's a new lease on life.

But I hale you all to listen.

For my words are sacred til I die.
But not when I tell you
not to believe when I try to guile.
'Cause while I'm your silver-tongued girl,
I am willing to tell more lies.

*But words aren't much sacred;
never, until you die.
Ceryn Mar 2014
Talk like rain
as every drop hits all surface
let your thoughts flow like
blood, dark as your faith
thick as the walls
that separate you
from the world
tell all, confess till you fall
weak on your knees.

Talk like rain
fear not the rhythm
that made you dance again
spill it, out of your head
resist not when it's time
to let go, to begin
it's your moment to reign
don't waste the chance
to be heard and seen.

Talk like rain
yet love like summer, again
do not hold back
do not fear nor regret
let love break the bars
that imprisoned your heart
you've missed the beauty
you've lost that part
don't let it tear you apart.

Talk like rain
'cause I'll be the ground
to willingly catch you
if ever you fall again.
Ceryn Mar 2014
An afternoon warm and dull and bland
Not so special for a nobody's girl in town
Hitting the roads on summer days
Hoping for a little fuss in her insipid space.

Looking for refreshments as the sun goes high
The girl decides to visit a kiosk nearby
Asking for a tumbler of cold cafe latte shake
Handing over some bucks to a lady so irate.

From afar, there goes a fine young man
Oh what a lovely bonus in sight!
Stopping by a lengthy row of costly cars
Not one from them seems to match his aplomb.

The day's warmth, no remedy, to his cool strides
Getting near, she looks away to dodge his hazel eyes
As he walks by, she looks up only to find him there
Gazing at her, but looks away when she pays a stare.

He heads off the streets, with no certain limit
To where his shoes might lead him to
While on a cafe nearby, the girl takes a mango pie
Just to get by the summer's funny tricks.

He enters the zone where the girl takes a sip
Of her heavenly cafe latte shake
Just a round table away, he takes a glance again
And the girl wonders just why he's there.

She checks her phone, holds her glass
Not even thinking 'bout the seconds that pass
Taking a sip, she tries to steal a glance
But in a jiffy, he's nowhere to be found.

Feeling disappointed, she rises from her seat
Leaving a tip on the beige table mats
But before she goes on, she notices a small note
On that young man's cluttered table top.

She reads a line from a song and it turns her on
But taking in the message doesn't feel right
It reads: *"Oh it's sad to belong to someone else,
When the right one comes along..."
Ceryn Mar 2014
A sign of desperation
Of envy, of misery, of dejection
Of hopeless yearning for nothing lifelong,
As almost everyone can barely notice.

Worldly desires, oh futility!
Images of true vainglory
Captives of fake reality
Stuck in their reverie
Of exaltation and flattery
Fishing for praises so badly
Insensitively, so unrelentingly
Without a thought or two.

What do you hear? What do you see?

These people sound so thirsty
Of approval and regard and dignity
Capricious predisposition, tomfoolery!

Looking for love and delight
For honor and respect and might
For grandeur and luxury
For anything but worthless beauty,
For a way not to be left behind or aside.
What a surrealistic find!

Amuse me; let the world drool for thee,
But like a century-long malady,
Such an absolutely incurable affliction
It is nothing but merely, purely,
Just as trivial as this poetic entry,
**Vanity.
Ceryn Mar 2014
Pungent heartbreak dews
Pouring, dropping, sinking down
Deep under my crust.
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