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Poetroyalee Jul 2019
I have visions of myself letting go,
dropping my persona, screaming
and unleashing thunder.

Then it rains from my eyes.
The storms of my insides explode,
a hurricane of emotions
unapologetically take control of me.

I am no longer suppressed by secrecy,
no longer forced to act based on duty.
No, in this vision, I allow for vulnerability.

I am an animal, a tired, so very tired animal,
tortured and tattooed by agony,
marred by melancholy.

This is me

Not my persona,
not the lies,
not the masks.

I am uncontrollable,
pent up frustration,
storms that rain dread,
an ominous loom
of darkness and gloom.

Nothing good escapes me
as I lose control of myself.
Tears and blood trail the
paths I have burnt to ashes.

Anger and sadness intermingle
as I begin my crooked dance.
My feet do not feel the ground
as I leap from my persona
and unleash my thunder.

My hands move erratically,
as if possessed with a sudden electricity.
I am no longer human.

But in this vision, so disturbing,
so grotesque,
there lies an unequivocal truth.

In this vision, so broken and dissonant,
that is where I can be found.

That is where all the honesty,
no longer drowns under an ugly
metal mask that I use,
parading as something contrary to
myself.
Poetroyalee Aug 2018
Now, every time I think of you,
I remember our sinful encounter,
your lust filled gaze.
The whole affair should have never happened.
I didn’t recognize myself when I lay in your arms.
I became older, colder, more rebellious and utterly
open towards you.

We know every inch of each other.
I know you love that, you revel in it.
But I don’t. I feel exposed and completely confused.

I don’t know what came over me that day.
One moment I was a shy wallflower
in the midst of a sea of strangers.
I don’t know whose party it was or if I was even invited.
Then you spotted me in the crowd and came to talk to me.
Most of it is a blur in my head.

We hurriedly ran off together,
our clothes came off,
your lips trailed my neck.
You were huge and experienced,
We explored but didn't truly
discover each other.

After all was done,
There was just silence.
We were silent,
my thoughts were silent.

You tried to embrace  me for some moments
but I pushed your arms away.

It was just a transaction.

Looking back, I don’t understand all of it.
I hope we never meet again.
Some people give themselves to others and regret it afterwards. That was the inspiration behind this poem.
Poetroyalee Aug 2018
Solitude,
a gift,
a friend,
that which I thrive on.

He lulls me to sleep,
listens to my midnight thoughts,
caresses my body with his
wholesome embrace.

But I sometimes push him away,
ignore him,
replace him with trivial things,
empty conversations.

He, on the other hand,
whispers sad memories into my head,
reminds me of what I have lost,
how alone I get.

He forces me to vividly remember
memories I tried to forget.

Solitude creates an inner turbulence of
my ambivalence.
He relents and resents his replacements,
my so called "friends."

Yet, I am closer to solitude than anyone else.
I think about all the nights
The moon has held me in her mother’s glow
Sent whispered reliefs to me on the wind
And let me hear but for a moment, the gentle lull of the sea
I think about all the days
The sun has kissed away my sorrows with his warmth
Has burnt out everything dark within me and left no scars
I have felt his golden lips on my brow and knew it gilded a blessing into my skin
I know that the rocking of the world does not equate
To the slow circle I made inside of his arms
But if he is away courting the stars that fall to earth for him
Then I will at least allow myself this embrace
And hope that with the turning of the sky above me
So too will my heart fall away from his gravity
If it means I am a comet blazing eternal through space
So be it
At least when I burn
It will light the way only for me
Poetroyalee Jul 2018
What am I ,to you ?
A puppet , to be displayed
and controlled?

A conformist who should
be forced into submission?

We have had our share of disagreements,
our share of unpleasant moments.

But, I chose to be the bigger person,
I chose to acknowledge my mistakes
and seek solutions.

You chose to become a ghost,
a nomad , absent from
all forms of responsibility.
You chose to hide behind your emotions
and left me alone to rebuild what we lost.

I cannot fix our past ,
I can only accept my mistakes
and move forward.
Life is not meant for us to stand back
and watch our mistakes and regrets control us.

I have done my part
and stand with certainty.
I am not proud of all the decisions that I made
but that does not mean that I should not move through the pain.

It is now your turn.
You can either turn your back on me and us
or return to me and work with me to create new paths
full of suns and rains,
laughs and pains.

What do you choose?
Poetroyalee Jun 2018
Silhouettes stood dark and tall,
I should have shut up once and for all.

My mouth was sealed,
no words were said.
When spoken, they were
empty words that went unheard.

Age divided us.
For this, I was mocked.
My tongue was sharp
so, I was flogged.

I saw you live your dream
all the time.
I saw the importance,
but what about mine?

I saw people,
I saw joy,
I saw children play with toys.

I wished for space,
far from there.
I wished for miles
as far as light years.

But I still asked myself,
"Why was I there?"
Poetroyalee Jun 2018
His hands linger,
caressing her thighs
and with hopeful eyes,
he recites Shakespearean rhymes.

What could have been more romantic?
What could have been more tragic?

His recital is like a symphony to a stoic audience.
Unfruitful is his performance,
unattainable is her heart.
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