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Rhianecdote Nov 2014
I have no interest in being a depressive.
The depressive gene is a recessive gene,
it leads no where.
Relapse got me treading tracks I've already been down.
And they lead no where.
So I say no!
Cause nowhere's not where I wanna go.
Nov 2014 · 244
FamiLiar
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
I'm over the over familiarity.
So I won't make the mistake of thinking I know you, if you don't make the mistake of thinking you know me.
Nov 2014 · 3.1k
UndieTakers are no FUNeral
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
Someone stole your ****** and now you're feeling under.
Debriefed but not on how to deal with this outfit.
What to do? go out? fit in? Irked but no shoes or shirt.
Took it off of your back and replaced it
with a lack of faith in what this place is all about.

So you hung up your ***** laundry for all to see and they took it.
No mystery just misery. To the wanderer who said "if home is where the heart is, than I'm cynically homeless" unaware that if home is where the heart is YOU are always home.

They may have taken the shirt off his back but he would have given it gladly, cause that's not the sort of belonging he longs for. Wasn't quite his idea of clothing the homeless, but its done nonetheless.

But you got your head, shoulders, knees and toes so who needs clothes? When you're transparent. To the one who feels alone, take comfort in the fact that someone's now literally walking in your shoes...  and socks ...  and shirt.

Solitary days still leaving him contemplating underwhere? And underwhy? But what's garment to be will be and he'll be alright because his light shines bright, even if he doesn't see it in the glare. There's something fresh in the air. It's a mean feat, but once he learns to stand on his own two, in the space of a haunted Manor will stand a Man. One that can, will and do.
Dedicated to my fellow pundamentalist (I don't need a Dr) Dre, humble host of the hostel on the loss of his laundry...
Nov 2014 · 828
Love Anxiety
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
What do you want from me?
Do I frustrate you?  
What does that look, that gleam betray to you?
What do the thoughts that dance behind those eyes say of you?
Are they the same as mine, will they remain true?

And what if those thoughts they changed, would you tell me?
If they somehow get rearranged would you sell me?
Exchange me in your thoughts silently before I see,
another taking my place before I  take leave.

But you don't even tell me them now at the beginning.
No words from a mouth that is kissing.
No words from a mouth so no sinning?
So tell me who here is winning?

And all this goes through my mind as we're kissing
and none of it matters because I'm no longer missing
what it could have been like to be with you
because that which  could have been has become truth.

This one and one has become two
but as the individuals they undo
will you and will I remain too?
Will you and will I remain true?
Nov 2014 · 2.5k
This Affection
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
For so long I have held it to heart
that to be affected is to be infected,
so much so that it has become a disease;
my heart disease.

Not bought on by an over consumption of calories
but a product of being ill at ease with those around me
and that within me,
so better bin me. Better? Bin me.
I'm done being me.
Nov 2014 · 474
In-so-mania words...
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
I am but an aimless wanderer,
possessing a wavering relationship with fate.
A dreamer that cannot sleep,
a freedom that can't escape.
Nov 2014 · 1.5k
The Dual
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
Of man be there two.
One holder of mirror whilst other a scryer,
renders mirror to glass pierces through.
Where one speaks the other is silenced,
mere whisper acknowledged in this interchanging feud.
So in this blurred intersection,
where there is no reflection
Then what man of man be the truth?

What man of man be the truth
as he stands here split in two?
Be it what he thinks or what he do
that makes the man?
This single man in double view.
A multi facet that will reveal itself in time due.

A facet only glimpsed in certain light,
gone unnoticed by friends.
One and the same in this game of life
where does one begin and one end,
when it is only in the battle that they raise their head?
See the chimera for what it truly is,
this lone Mr a Hydra instead.

Each flitters between life and the scythe
as they fight for control.
Each condemned to the darkness
as the other negotiates sole lease of this soul.
But Death haunts the two because the two
form the whole.

And so this dual begins
without rules and birthed in sin.
Begun with one who seeks to release his debase desires
that lie un-mired in mind,
  confined to an imaginary state,
where he can ******,  slander unheard
but then he plays with fate.

He plays with fate, when he opens the bottle,
hands himself to the primal,
unprimed for the battle that lay ahead.
That lay in head and heart and will;
one's will that will leave one dead.

But for now each has his role.
One takes the guise of a Jackal
in cunning he seeks to conceal the other,
his brother in hiding,
in sin he hides him inside him
but he will not be silenced.
The fiend longs for this angels confession
and will teach wings a lesson in flight
as he makes his escape in dark and in light.

So this would be angel tries in vain
to press the other down, so  that he can remain
but he's wingless and in pain, feeling the strain of
restraints  that will no longer contain
the hate that dominates as the other pushes free,
pushes to be this man's sole identity.

This poor soul thought he could enslave that which was caged
and to the beast he did open the door
but it was this angel that lost his wings
mauled by a beast that would not sing to his tune, just roar.
Each sacrificed for the other
as this man of man ends his days
cold on the floor.

For man can not negotiate with fate.
And when One cannot take rule
the pair will end their days together
in the dual.
Inspired by R.L Stevensons 'Strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde' I feel that we all have split personality's to a certain extent and it can cause internal conflict. We are all different things to different people, we all have our private self's that exist in mind and our public self's that exist in personality and it can be hard to balance at times. Sometimes I just wonder if a true self actually exists.
Nov 2014 · 7.1k
Rejection Seat
Rhianecdote Nov 2014
Walk onto a stage called life
and take a look around.
There's much to be found in such a small space,
more to give and much to take
as the curtains called and you're pulled into this performance.
Stare into the audience and pray for applause
but what if you're met with silence?
Spotlight on you as your hopes are ejected
and you my friend have just been rejected
and that is a hard thing to take.
So take a seat, a rejection seat.

Front row to your failures as they come In-ter-view.
Call it the Dragons Den the Lions Pit
and yet they ask me what kind of animal i'll be
as i sit and daydream about Spiderman in a suit
listing qualities of make believe
as he's forced to fill in a CV just like me;
not that i'm a superhero,
i'm just saving face you see,
it's just an amusing thought to ease the anxiety.

And the voluntears they come in turn.
Call em that cause they come momentarily
to remind me involuntarily
that sometimes i do need help and not all things are easy,
not all things are meant to be.
So i take a seat, will you take one with me?

As you watch that relationship sail
and wonder how did it fail?
Bon voyAge is irrelevant.
Whether it be school crush folly to divorcee
it's a learning curve right?
Hard when it seems the only thing you taught me
is what it means to feel lonely.
It's cold in that place called the one way street,
so take a seat. Pull up a chair to something that's no longer there
and share in despair as you stare at your feet.

But you will raise your head eventually.
Adopt the thinkers pose, indulge in some feelosophy.
Cause a friend once said to me that rejection is a time for reflection
and i tend to agree.
So tell me, as i stare into the face of rejection
why is it that i see my own reflection?
Am i cursed to take this personally?
It's always the shoulda, woulda, couldas that get to me.
Do they get to you?
If so take a seat.

And are you sitting uncomfortably?
Cause you shouldn't be.
Take comfort as you stare along row upon row of chairs
that stretch along beyond you and me.
Side to side, across from and diagonally.
Filling the Feartre.
There's many to be found in such a small space,
more that give and much that take
and though this may be the closing scene
there's another show tomorrow
and you and I will receive our standing ovation,
just take my hand and stand with me.
Cause this seat was only ever meant to be temporary.

— The End —