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Michelle Lynne Jan 2014
You messed with my head
     My head is a mess.
You messed with my world
     My world is a mess.

   I am a mess.
A mess of mindless self-indulgence
Minus the indulgence

I am the essence of egoism
The epitome of selfishness
The
              upper
                             ­     echelon
                                                    ­             of arrogance
The meaning of ignorance

I have
                     become
                                     you
But still
                    I wait
                                        for you
Because
            I
                            adore you.
Michelle Lynne Apr 2014
I remember the first time I laid my eyes upon your dark, golden-highlighted ringlets siting haphazardly on your nimble head. They were positioned above your flat, south Asian face, as if some wayward artist took his paintbrush and, in a fit of creative chaos, splattered and sputtered paint across a blank and endless canvas. Your hair represented the kind of sweet, quiet entropy that people needed in their lives. The great offense the artist had committed by being so reckless with such a delicate subject could be forgiven, however, because he surely acted as such simply because he had previously exhausted himself whilst meticulously creating your enrapturing eyes. Round cerulean orbs, speckled with bits of yellows and greens with a péridot ring centered around a pitch black pupil that represented the contents of your dispassionate heart. This is not an accurate description of the man who holds my unrequited love, however. You have achieved this sort of romantic, majestic rendition of beauty through the bias of my foolish heart and through my patronage of the arts. A typical person would do much better to portray you as nothing more than a hellish brute who is in desperate need of a haircut and a perhaps a larger assortment of clothing rather than torn, raggedy jeans and hand-me-down heavy metal t-shirts.
Michelle Lynne Oct 2013
I have become the essence of depression.
I feel nothing, because I am nothing.
I am overwhelmed by the beauty of the world after being crushed by its cruelty.
I look around to see humans, but no humanity.
When you're this close to ceasing to exist, you start noticing everything.
Red is no longer just red.
It is maroon, mauve, ruby, and as many different hues as my vacant mind can imagine.
People are no longer people, they become art. I notice every color in your cerulean eyes. Aquamarine, verdant green, with a cobalt blue ring around a pitch black pupil reminiscent of your heart.
As of late, I have taken pride in lacking a soul mate. When two people are soul mates, they share a  heart and soul. When one of the soul mates dies, their soul mate dies in some ways, too.
I don't have a soul mate.
Lucky me.
Michelle Lynne Apr 2013
I miss you so much, especially our little talks.
The way you smiled, and the way you walked.

The way you laughed, your mouth opened so wide,
My heart yearned for you, but you killed me inside.

I have to be strong, I can't cling to this love!
But I'm painfully realizing that I wasn't good enough...

No, no, that can't be it, tell me it's not so...
I was good enough, wasn't I? Please tell me! I need to know!

Desperately trying to reason with myself,
Your hateful heart ******* up my mental health!

I try to look on the brighter side of things...
Could there be someone else that could make my heart sing?

Maybe, it's not that we weren't meant for each other...
But perhaps, we were just meant to love another.
I'm starting to realize that I can make do without you.
And for the first time, I'm okay with that.
Michelle Lynne Apr 2013
You take a seat next to me, and I brush up against your smooth, porcelain skin.
My pupils dilate, the anticipation of your attention captivates my soul.
You say nothing, but your cerulean eyes scold me for my past sins.

Your holier-than-thou ego clashes with my happy-go-lucky mood,
My spirit whimpers and suffocates once again,
My newly repaired heart becomes unglued.

After being forsaken by your eyes, my gaze fixes on your chaste lips.
The daily struggle persists, I fight the urge to kiss the immaculate pink flesh.
For the only thing I shall ever receive from that part of your perfect body are relentless quips.

Like a hopeless, abandoned child, I follow your every move
Yearning to be your untainted doll, like a puppet on a string,
Falling all over myself, feigning euphoria, desperately hoping you approve.

You are the inclement wind, I am the decrepit, shredded leaf.
You shove me along, disregarding my waning will, placing me wherever you want.
You do this merrily,  without thought, shame, or grief.

You concoct schemes, working tirelessly, reminding me that I am far too easy to replace
When you become weary of me, you toss me aside, allowing the demons in my head to besiege me.
I am isolated, petrified, and after the devil has his way, my emotions vanish without a trace.

Yet, I will linger, waiting for you, everyday, until I grow old and die.
My soul lusts for the times when you will love me once again.
I covet the days when your amorous words and merciful, cerulean eyes made me feel so high.
I miss your kind eyes. I didn't know it would be so hard, but my soul is truly attached to you. I want to be the object of your affections once again.
Michelle Lynne May 2013
You said that, if things go as planed, then you'll have her.
And according to you, she has it all.
So, does that mean I have nothing?
Does that mean I am nothing?
All of those nights I spent, whispering my secrets into you.
Giving you everything.
My everything is nothing.
I spent hours, we talked of everything.
But that everything means nothing to you.
Because I mean nothing to you, too.

But, she's so amazing to you,
She could sit perfectly still,
Her smooth, pink lips pouting upon her face in their usual position
Not saying a word.
Her gorgeous, soul capturing eyes, penetrating the inner workings of your mind,
Glancing at you a few times
But looking straight through you, dreamily gazing out the window towards the rain.
And that would mean everything.
Simply because her nothing is your everything.
Just like my everything is your nothing.
I wrote a poem about a girl I've never met.
Simply because she has everything I've ever wanted
Michelle Lynne Feb 2014
From my rotting body, flowers will grow, and I will finally be beautiful.

The marigolds that will bloom will not flee and vanish from the glow of the sun
They will aspire and capture its power, ever basking in its majesty unlike all that I have done
For they are enduring and evergreen, quite a contradiction to someone always on the run

Helianthus will burgeon from my corpse in the Autumn, cordial, acquiescent and jolly
Luminous hues of gold, superiority in the form of a blooming seedling, free of worldly folly
Irresistible to butterflies and feathered creatures, who shall evermore adore the perennial dolly

Snowdrops with delicate pedicels will pepper the frost polishing over my long corroded flesh,
An impeccable ability to synthesize with the world effortlessly, so that I may at last mesh
Nevermore will I acquiesce to let the world negligently toss me about, instead the world will thresh

Irises in the spring will be next to transcend, ripe with nonconformity rooting from their eccentric peridot petals
For the world encompassing them may be wrapped in blissful ignorance, but  they will forever hesitate to settle
They realize that life is for naught, putrescence is inevitable, so why even make a vain attempt to mettle

As sure as the sun will ascend, the summer will materialize, and the sun's glimmer will rage from dusk until dawn
For the world will strive on, long after I am gone, and my effulgence on the Earth is perpetually withdrawn

I am not fearful of death because in death there is ignorance and blissful uncertainty
From my rotting body, flowers will grow, and I am in them and that is eternity.
Michelle Lynne May 2013
Rays of sunlight hit the thick lens of your glasses and illuminate the golden frames
Every single ray is completely absorbed into your perfect skin through the sunrise.
Resonating within the inner workings of your mind, igniting an inferno in your soul
I wish to become those sun rays, surrounding your body, penetrating your eyes

Warmth flowing throughout your tender body, surging through your inner being
You radiate joy, the after effects of a splendid moment marked by an influx of pleasure.
Laying on the damp, dew-stained grass parallel to your your delicate boyish frame
Like a sort of unseen force, the happiness we've shared here is unable to be measured

You open your mouth, and suddenly ideas of the future trickle out and run down your lips
Destroying the perfect, serene silence of the moment with your unachievable fantasies and plans
About the mansion you will build her, about the children you will have with her, about your bed
You turn your head towards me, your eyes are fixed on my face, you tell me you won't be my man.

I stare back up at the sky, expansive, free, a light, playful shade of blue, not too dark
I realize that I'd much rather prefer to be the sky above your head, free and independent
Seeing the world, but not affected by the pressure of mankind, not affected by pain or lust
So when you look upon me, you covet me, you realize that without you, I'm still transcendent.
Michelle Lynne Apr 2013
When two sections of Earth collide,
They split, and a fault forms between them.

The delicate surface destroyed
By the ferocious tension underneath.

Eroding and disintegrating,
The discord knows no bounds.

When I think of us,
I imagine what we could have created.

A magnificent mountain,
Composed of fragments from you and I.

But you took a divergent path,
And thought of me as beneath you.

Casting me away, into darkness,
Isolated, forced to hide the misery.

You left me anxious, craving your love,
Believing that you were the key to my happiness.

Keeping me down, you are the lead weight,
And I am the balloon, striving to be free.

Tricking me, leading me to conclude you're my lifeline.
Taunting me, insulting me, daring me to fly.

You told me that you loved me, protected me,
Because, according to you, if I went too high, I would pop.

You lied! I'm free now, and soaring! I'm flying so free!
And your eyes show your confidence, you think I'll come back.

But you tell me, if you can, you loathsome liar,
The last time you saw the balloon float back to the weight.
I think romance is a lot like tectonic plates...When two plates come together, three things can happen.
They could fall down together, bringing destruction to each other, one could overpower the other, or they could rise up together and create something beautiful.
It might have taken me a bit to realize I was better off without you, but I did it, and I'm happier than ever.
Michelle Lynne Mar 2013
Candid smiles radiate waves of happiness,
And the promise of foreboding tenderness.

Pupils dilate at the sight of chaste skin
Your body position enumerates control, we’re ready to begin.

Vibrant red rose petals sprinkled on expensive white lace
As I lay pressed against you, I hear your strong heart race.

Your eyes undress me, while your mouth seems to grasp for words unknown to individuals,
But known to every pair of souls entwined across the earth, who feel pure love, not strictly ******.

Scratch marks on your back, the air is heavy and intense.
We move together, our senses heightened, slowly building suspense.

Loud screams and moans, a lovely and true symphony of feelings, then we’re through.
You lay back down, your breathing is rapid, I climb in your arms and kiss you.

Love is a verb, a doing word,
Love conquers all, undeterred.
There are many ways to show love, and to those of us that see love as a doing word, one of the best ways to show love is through a specific action. I tried to make this as tasteful as possible without making it overdone and ******. The love depicted in this poem is very pure, and not just casual. The feeling depicted in this poem is not just of ***, but of love.
Michelle Lynne Mar 2013
I love the way that your steady hands
Embrace cold insipid metal
Breathing artificial life into pins and circuits, animating only on your command,

While trying to compose something beautiful from the chaos of machinery.
How I yearn to be one of the pieces of robotic scrap,
To be able to feel your touch firsthand,

Blessed enough to feel your brilliant eyes and your nimble fingers.
To hold all of your attention, to be your focus,
I want to be your magnum opus, beautiful and grand.

I want to hand you my broken heart, scarred and ******,
And watch as you tend to it, and make it uniquely yours.
I'd let you clear my mind of stress and pain, until it's no longer a wasteland.

I want to be able to shatter with the reassurance
That you will be there to debug and revise me
The security of knowing you completely understand.

As our souls become interlaced,
I want to feel your lips pressed against mine
I want to be good enough to call you my husband.

But I am not a robot
And our souls remain separate
My life remains pathetic, depressing and bland.
I wrote this about a man I used to be in love with. Although we're not close anymore, the poem captures the feelings I used to have for him.
Michelle Lynne May 2013
My heart races, erratically, lacking a proper rhythm.
A rhythm that could only be rendered by another heartbeat.
My soul soars frantically, searching for yours in a forlorn prison.
I strive on, praying, yearning, not ready to accept defeat.

I gaze into your eyes, longing for some sign of affection
I see nothing, because you feel nothing towards me.
I gave you my heart, trusting you to not break it, and you denied my attention.
Look at me now! I'm dead inside! What else could I possibly be!?

Twisted nightmares from the most morose parts of my mind start to form
I imagine that I am in a hospital bed, waiting for you to say farewell
You couldn't even say goodbye? Of course not, you have no desire to mourn.
My worthless love, absolutely useless to you. I'm alone, locked in this prison cell.

But I keep optimism in my heart, and I fathom that perhaps you'll realize
How much I truly loved you, and how much I sacrificed.
My pulse diminishes, my eyes start to close, at last, it's almost time to die.
How I longed to be yours! After my death, will you be satisfied?

Before I die, I glare at the doorway, my stomach full of knots, my vision is blurry.
I think of my scars, covering my body, each representing a time when you weren't there.
I promised I would wait, I'm giving you one last chance, please hurry.
But you never show. The machine flat lines, and you finally prove that you truly didn't care.
Michelle Lynne Jul 2013
It was yellow like the sun
And dandelions by the pond
In the middle of the new hope of spring

It swallowed me whole
I let it steal all of my control
Until I had become positively nothing

The blood trickles down
Across lips frozen in a frown
Broadcasting the sad signs of suffering

Anything just to get to sleep
Just be mindful not to cut too deep
Or the side effects will start to become troubling

Making sure that nobody suspects
Your friends don't know what to expect
Barely able to just keep on living and functioning

I need help, I know I can't keep this up
I feel my will being drained, I'm out of luck
Trying to survive, nothing but constant struggling

I have keep going, I have to at least try
If I don't fix this soon, I may just possibly die
My life is slipping away, my condition is worsening

I have to live to see another new day
I can't just let the beautiful gift of life slip away
I will persevere, I will succeed, no matter how challenging
Michelle Lynne Jun 2013
How can somebody who is regarded as being so fantastically creative, destroy so much?
Perhaps it's not that I'm creative, perhaps it's just that I have a talent for picking up the all the jagged, crumbled pieces.

Nostalgic for familiar feelings and guilty pleasures,  still so keen on the awe-inspiring rush.
When you awaken in the morning with all that dried blood in your nose,  you wonder how much longer you have until life ceases.

Resisting the gruesome yearning for ripped flesh and the cold feeling of the blood gush.
How much longer can I persevere alone? How many more days do I have to survive till my quality of life is increased?

These emotions are weighing me down, beating me up, my heart is literally crushed.
I can see the rays of light peeking out behind the clouds, and I'm so terribly desperate for any sort of  peace.

Waiting and watching, begging for a sign that this world is even capable of being just.
I used to wait for you, because I knew you'd be there. Now it seems I'm just waiting for any form of a release.
Michelle Lynne Sep 2013
To be a human being is to be riddled with thousands of imperfections.
Full of flaws; scrapes, spots, and scars cover broken and bruised skin.
But robots need not fear and fret about fixable, trivial defections.

Humans perpetually throw themselves at cold, apathetic, greedy clinicians
Only to be given terrible news and told there is no cure for a horrid death.
Meanwhile, robots bask in the glow of love from a passionate technician.

Humans can never agree when it comes to the dealings of the heart.
Always one-sided, they take turns ruthlessly destroying each other.
Robots, oblivious to the issues of any and all feeling, live freely.

Naive humans will work tirelessly, only to see nothing but certain failure,
But life has never once benefited those of us who are currently living.
So, humans crafted robots, to always succeed where they could not.
Michelle Lynne Apr 2013
Your nimble fingers wrap around my waist
Your docile eyes covet my curious face.

You are my first love, and I aspire to be your last.
We love without hesitation, regardless of our past.

My soul is illuminated by visions of you,
The only one who could nurture my heart to make it seem so new.

My mind was fragile, my ego so weak...
My body littered with scars, my life looked so bleak...

Then I saw you, walking with that brazen stride...
You embraced me in your arms, and taught me how to have pride!

I know what it feels like to exist now,
Living life to the finest capacity that God allows!

I want to scream it to the world, I love you, I do!
Our lust is adventurous and limitless, our love never falls through.

There is no better substitute, everything is so right when we're together.
Like two turtle doves, it's you and I forever.
Dedicated to the man who took on the daunting task of stitching my heart together.
Michelle Lynne Mar 2013
Idyllic sensations of fingertips gliding across unspoiled flesh

Kisses fill in the gaps left by words unspoken

Bright eyes meet and exchange heavy glances of infatuation

Souls clinging to the inexperienced adoration, praying it stays fresh

The luxury of hearts yet to be broken

Blooming lust like budding carnations

Petals flittering about in cold springtime sun

Flippant and apathetic about what the future holds

Never expecting to be crushed under the boot of a world-weary passerby

Despite pressure to crumble apart, the petals cling together until their lives together are done

The heavy feeling of eyes cast upon young lovers, bystanders recanting the most terrible scolds

Are no match for star-crossed lovers, too entangled in emotions to be pulled apart by outside forces, and too far gone to say goodbye.
A poem to describe the purity and happiness that comes along with being in love when you're young. I wanted the poem to also portray the young lovers as oblivious to the outside world.
Michelle Lynne May 2013
She's got it all, creativity and intelligence
And like a fish to water, you squirm towards her
I hope she breaks you down, rips you up, **** benevolence

Watch her seize your heart, squeeze it tight
Till all your blood gushes out, watch her paint with it
You can be her tragedy, just fuel for her "creativity"

When you caress her lips it's like an inferno, but her eyes are like ice
Watch her paralyze and destabilize you
Sweetheart, don't you know that artists never place nice?

I want to see you come crawling to me, aching and pathetic
So I can bleed out whatever is left of you, watch you wallow in pity
Revenge is a *****, and I can't promise she'll be as quick and easy as you like.

Baby, I loved you, but you denied my affection
The nights we spent, so much time wasted...
So don't you dare come around looking for my attention

I want her to slaughter your ego, till it's all gone
Like you've done to me so many times before
I want to see it waste you when she does you wrong

— The End —