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ray Sep 2014
you called me beautiful
and then hid from me
like a child
eager friendship
was turning into a
wildfire of feelings
not at the least bit lustful
and I have never not been lustful
I always thought it was just another
permanent flaw in my
stained and crumpled being
but you proved me wrong once again
and called me beautiful
a word that had meant nothing to me
until uttered
with a side dish of hysteria
and a sprinkle of angst
but then why did you run
from something
that should have at least sent me
scrambling away
like a deer caught in the light
maybe I trust you
maybe you don’t know how to trust
I didn’t think I did either
ray Jun 2014
when we were younger,
he paid me two dimes and a slinky to kiss him on the lips,
but he doesn't know I would have done it for just the slinky.
ray Jun 2014
I have a secret
I can do it again
Peel my skin back
To reveal my bones that rot like fruit

I can do it again
Let my lies open like shells
To reveal my bones that rot like fruit
Feel me and pray for my release

Let my lies open like shells
Kiss my wounds, wrap me up
Feel me and pray for my release
I am nothing but this skeleton

I have a secret
ray Jun 2014
I often wonder how people write decent love poems
For my attempts I’d classify as
mediocre.
How do write about your eyes?
The way they avert my face
And sparkle in another’s direction
That particular pain is hard to express
But for somebody as rejected as I am,
It should be simple
To moan about hands I will never hold
And if I manage
To ***** those lines out in ink
There will always be someone
To reassure me that love is out there
But how can I believe that
When I have taken myself apart
Brick by boring brick
Just to recreate myself as somebody even worse?
Now tell me,
How does one write about that?
ray Jun 2014
He tells me
You are my perfume
and I will wear you around
So that I will seem better
to other people
And when you run out
or simply bore me
I will toss you aside
and find something better
then lavender and
this sadness
That wafts around me
like the scent of smoke in fabric
and pulls me down
like a lazy sunday morning
ray Jun 2014
Days with you
Are like hot chocolate
On a cold summer night
Days like this shouldn’t exist
I guess that’s why they don’t
The phrase
“you and I”
Is a reality my heart has yet to hold

Years with you
Are like a broken clock
Because I can never seem to catch up
With time
That always evades me
Within numbered days
Since I’ve first started this chase
That leaves me old and worn

An eternity with you
Is like the ghost that sleeps in my bedroom
It doesn’t exist
But I always seem to feel its presence
and leave the light on for it
and if it shows its face
I will have to assume that
reality has finally turned around.
ray Jun 2014
Sad
It’s a sad existence
For me, at least
The simplest things in life
Never cease to fail me
I don't have it hard
I am as plain as Jane gets
My existence is
Pin straight
Dutifully brown hair
Eyes like dark curtains in a dark room
I am merely the wallpaper
The sky behind the sun
Or sometimes the early morning fog
(on my good days)
It’s a sad existence

I have friends of all sorts
But nobody to sit with at lunch
I am probably too bothersome
Like the pigeons that sit on the roof
And peck at the windows
Or maybe I’m the moon
Cherished by night,
But ignored by day
I am as sad,
somber
And sometimes
I burn bright like the sun
(in my good months)
It’s a sad existence

I have love
He sits beside me everyday
But he chooses to ignore that fact
That the room lights up every time
Our eyes meet
And instead
He runs after the girls
who will forget him in a heart beat
Which is ironic
because I often figure he’d do the same to me
But yet here I am
We are very much the same
Running after people we can’t have
(everyday)
It is indeed a sad existence
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