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Dec 2019 · 140
More Than Facial Hair
Rhianna Powell Dec 2019
“What is this?” he runs his fingers across my spine “A new discovery!”
The mole on my back, it’s cancer probably, I say
He laughs, a milky one drunk on the night and my room
His eyes swallow me but not entirely
A bitter taste, probably my sickness, catches
In his throat. He coughs. I apologize, he
Doesn’t know what is really laying inside of me
“You’re beautiful” but his half-blind can’t see my whole
I am a giver, I tell him
He says he knows
The blanket between my headboard and the wall
Says he is too
A new trick I have never seen
Or thought of, it sits there being smashed like my insides
As he plunges into me
I cry out
It is lovely, he must know this
I never meant it like this, to come to you
Bruised and ready
All open mouths and compliments
Hair almost like mine, minus the color
He tells me he almost killed himself
I kiss his chest and say me too
There is something about pain that makes me want to
Eat it whole
I see it in you and I am hungry to take it away
Palm full of grief and I will hold it for you
Place it on my spine and carry it until my
Back snaps and I can no longer walk
I mean, this is the first time
I mean our first time and you
A pleasant surprise, I mean a pleasant
Song I have heard before but forgot about
You play loud through my speakers
And my heart can no longer be heard
I mean we are just two poets
Writing poetry with our bodies
I mean please don’t go in the morning
I mean, will you stay for coffee?
Rhianna Powell Sep 2019
I often wonder if I am not being clear when I speak. Maybe I am talking in a way others do not understand. Maybe it is that no actually means yes and that I am talking backwards. Maybe walking away means that I want you to stay. I don't really know. Everything is so backWARDS. 2017- THANKS BUT NO THANKS. NO ONE SAYS WHAT THEY MEAN AND NO ONE DOES WHAT ALIGNS WITH WHAT THEY FEEL AND I AM NOT SURE THAT I CAN BE A PART OF IT ANYMORE. I AM STILL WONDERING IF YOU WILL CHANGE YOUR MIND AND IM NOT DOING IT TO **** YOU OFF BUT I MISS YOU AND ID LIKE TO SEE YOU AND I THINK ABOUT KISSING SOMEONE ELSE AND I GET SICK WHEN I MOVE TO DO IT AND MAYBE THAT MEANS NOTHING BUT NOT ENOUGH TIME HAS PASSED
Rhianna Powell Sep 2019
if i could separate the two of you
you from your body
pull you apart like bread
id peel your limbs away
dissect the two in class
head from the heart
no association

i would pull your limbs in all directions
i could love you whole
separately then
in portions, never all at once
you're too big for one bite

entire package, 100 yards and im still
running to the bus
getting away, or trying
but never far enough

and ill come to the thought
of someone else
and in the dark that follows
its you

ill pick you apart again
leaf off limb
leaf off limb
leaf off limb
until your limbs are barren
and i am freezing for you
trying to understand

i have tried

still try ing: an action word, in the state of

in the dark

in the quiet

i call you when i need you

pounding at the front door of my mind is the words you spill and the silence you bring

i greet you with anger every single time

a soft one from the pit of my belly it lays inside of my intestines like a sore parasite eating my thoughts until i cant remember where they started

laying again standing alone with a smile on my face and we are on bad terms again

and i want to pull your mind away from your body

i want to appreciate them

and all together
and all at once

it will hurt
to pull apart skin
it gushes
it oozes and it is a constant
reminder that i cannot figure it out

an infection. nasty        But you wont notice it when it goes away
Sep 2019 · 46
Untitled #1
Rhianna Powell Sep 2019
and if you cant love
me ill still love you
but from a distance
because i matter too
Dec 2017 · 304
stuck someWHERE
Rhianna Powell Dec 2017
my knees itch
i want to scrape them across the cement
only i may be able to,
with the tug of your hands
soft and gentle against my palm

i want to feel pain
i want to see the blood rushing
from my cracked skin
rip my body apart
the way you do
with all your words

hit me
tear out my hair
bruise my arms the way
i know you can

this body heals
or it dies
but your lips and
your hands
are stuck in my head
swirling around
pressing against my eyes
“i think i have nightmares
because i am lonely”

now i cant sleep
and you have your drugs
the images at night
haunting me

you leaving, stuck on repeat
Rhianna Powell Dec 2017
I still think about you every Tuesday and Thursday.
I imagine running into you on the cemented walk I trek to class. I imagine looking up and seeing you trying to get away from me. I’ve never once seen you here on Tuesday or Thursday, but I am still thinking of you.

I still think of you in the shower. I can feel your arms holding on to my slippery body. I feel your hands in my hair as the luke-warm water trickles over my scalp. It find comfort in the absence of your touch, but it is brief, and it is never enough.

I still think of you when I am at the beach. I swim and I swim until maybe I absorb enough salt to forget the night you wished for me on that star. I see your face under the sea and I can feel your warmth laying next to me.

I think of all of the mistakes I’ve made. I think about what lead me here. I think maybe you ruined me before we kissed. I was looking for you in all of the lips I met. Now here I am still searching and yearning. I thought If I felt something, anything it would be enough to put out the fire. Maybe I will drink myself to death, but I know that when I see the man standing in front of me it’ll be your angry voice that pulls me back.

I am wondering how many images of myself there are. Thanks to you, and myself, I am certain there are plenty. They will pick which one they are most interested in, and that is the one they will run with. Have I played the victim poorly? Maybe I should have stayed home. I know that these things subside, but I have been digging for so long, I have dug so deep.

I am trying to think but the pain in my skull radiates into my teeth. Breathe in, breathe out- pain. Maybe it will stay, maybe I will never sleep. I see the eyes in my restless dreams. They haunt me through the scenes. I never know when the light will return to me. Maybe it is a game that they wanted to play on me. Let’s get her to move 10 hours away. Let’s ruin her. Maybe she isn’t ruined yet.

I wonder what would they think if I went home. Maybe I’ll drop, maybe I’ll lose my phone. Would they feel guilty for hurting the girl who only wanted to find a new home? I cannot leave, but I want to. I wish I did not have to face them again. Tomorrow it will come, and I will have to feel the anger under their skin. I will see the disappointment in their faces. I will try and try and it will never be enough.

In a series of events, I found myself sober, on the beach. The sky was high and the stars bright. We kissed and kissed and I laughed all night. He told me stories of his past lovers, and I knew they did not compare. I knew I was the one. I ran from him, laughing, and he ran after me, like a good boy. I felt his arms around my waist and I smiled. I made a wish on every star that twinkled in the sky. We searched for the dippers. I was sober and I was happy.

Again, I found myself on the beach, more drunk than I had ever been. I went out and I was bad. I kissed all of his friends. I made a mess of myself and I made a mess of my head. My heart is gone and I have been looking for it since then. I have traveled around the beds of others, looking for something like my long lost lover. His eyes were inviting, now I fear them. His voice loving, abrasive at the ends. I lost my lover, and I’m not quite sure how. I am looking for my heart but it is nowhere to be found. I will go to the sound and look again. I’m high as a kite and I can’t remember how this began.

The sun rises and sets, and I am trying my best. Passive aggressive is all I get. If I had the medication, I could be as cruel as him. Yet he is winning and I am lying on my back. I look to the sky without a cloud in sight and I hope to God that this feeling will subside. I’ve never been one to linger so long, but it feels like eternity since I’ve laid in between your sheets. I should have kissed you again before I left, maybe I could have changed your mind.

How does one become more interesting? I’ve spent my entire life being interesting and it wasn’t enough for a boy like you. An angry man who doesn’t know anything but mad. I was wondering if you would like to try something else. I think you did and it must have tasted bad because you ran at the next opportunity. Now I am mocked in the back seat of a broken car. I am laughed at because I am the stupid one. How silly it was for me to think that  a boy who looked like you could feel for a girl that was me.

Maybe one day you will remember to look for me on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s and maybe I’ll stay the night in someone else’s bed.
Rhianna Powell Nov 2017
And I will tell my friends that I will continue doing what I do for them simply because I love them. And the sun crawls between the leaves on the trees, and drips down the hanging moss, flooding the ground my feet walk on. I will move through the puddles of light that form around my toes and seep into the concrete. I will walk and walk lightly on the hard ground and ignore the pain screaming into my ears. I will continue on and I will tell myself that I will stop doing what I am doing for you, simply because I love you.
Rhianna Powell Nov 2017
December 25

November 12
“There goes the love of my life.”

October 16
Leaving: the process begins

September 15
Falling for the heartless

August 23
First time

July 22

I should have stayed in June.
Oct 2017 · 313
Rhianna Powell Oct 2017
It is not the end to the suffering, it is the beginning of a new kind.
Oct 2017 · 294
and Again,
Rhianna Powell Oct 2017
The day after you called and told me you wanted to stop seeing me, I sat alone in a Barnes & Noble. I was exhausted from the night before spent lying, screeching on the floor. I sat alone there trying to convince myself that if I could just do my work, I’d stop thinking about you. I used to like thinking about you. It used to make me smile. Now, I think of how it all was just a lie and now I sit alone at Barnes & Noble wondering just how stupid I am. I am sitting for awhile, fighting the sleep that begs to consume my eyes. I sit and I notice the people: a woman tutoring on the other side of the pole, a young black woman viciously eating a spinach croissant while flipping through three different books all at once, and finally a man sitting to my left, with a single coffee cup and a book in hand. This man has been glancing my way for the past 20 minutes. I am trying to stay awake and I am trying not think. I do not want to think about what this man is thinking of me. I do not want to think because then I will think of you. Soon he leaves and I feel a breath of fresh air wash over me. I am sitting alone and I am no longer being watched. Five minutes goes by and that man sits down at the chair opposite my table. I look up and he begins.

“I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Jake.”

“My name is Rhianna, nice to meet you.”

“Again, I’m sorry to bother you but I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner.”

Look, I’ve never known how to handle these situations. What do you say to someone you don’t even know who wants to take you out? How does someone you just met want to take you out more than the person you have spent so much of your time on?

“… how are you?”

“Me? I’m good.”

“How old are you?”


Ouch. Wait, that’s how old my, uh, not ex-boyfriend is. Hold your ******* tongue, dude.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 18.” He ***** in air hard.

“Do you go to UNCW?”


“What are you studying?”
The conversation continues, and he puts his number in my phone: Jake. Not even a last name. Dinner? Yeah, we’ll see. He gets up to go.

“Again, I’m sorry to bother you.”

“Yeah, no worries. Thank you.”

He leaves. Here I am, in a Barnes & Noble. Tears dripping down my face as this man walks away. It’s not his fault. So why am I sad? Was it the way he made me feel? The way he said my name? The way it wasn’t you? I wanted to call you. I wanted you to tell me you were gonna beat his *** if he came back. I wanted you to make me laugh. I wanted you to make me feel better. I wanted you to walk around the bookshelf and scoop me up like you did the night on the beach.

I’m sitting in Barnes and Noble, getting hit on by random strangers. Their interest mocking me, reminding me of your absence.

I guess they’ll have to do.
Oct 2017 · 428
First Love
Rhianna Powell Oct 2017
As a technologically advanced human race, we have still only studied about 5% of the earth’s oceans. There are still 2/3 unknown marine life. Every day there are people exploring the ocean, yet we have not reached the deepest point in the oceans. Every day the waves crash against the shore, but what lies within remains a mystery. The first time I fell in love, it was the day I ran across the hot sand, through the heavy air, straight into the salty, raging mass at the edge of my world. I knew that we did know a lot about the oceans, but what I did know was the way I felt. To stand in something so much greater than myself is a powerful thing. I felt small and weak but she was kind. My clothes stuck to my skin and my hair plastered against my neck and forehead. I feared her as the sun hid his face behind the clouds, and the sky grew dark. She was having a bad day, and I did not know why. She grew even stronger as I stood on the shore, not wanting to leave her side. My mother forced me back into the hotel we were staying in. My heart sank as I saw the rain poor onto the asphalt. I had left my love at her low. I knew she was dangerous to man. The ocean is relentless. Her currents increase when she feels like it, and I could get ****** under if I stayed out there. Every year at least 100 people die from drowning in rip currents. Of course, my mom could never have that.

I was torn. My love was unrequited. What she taught me was something I didn’t understand until years later. She showed me that I did not need to travel to the coast of the land to find her. For she lives in everyone around me. I am falling in love every day, with the eyes the color of the ocean. The soft hands like waves caressing the shore. I see anger in the mouth of a lover, rage like a hurricane. My heart shatters the way she devours the boats, swallowing them whole. These people I love are oceans of their own. Their depths have never been reached by a single human being. Every year, they consume the hearts of those around them. Sometimes they are recovered, never the same of course, but sometimes they are left to lie unseen on the ocean floor forever. These people leave their scent clinging to the hairs on my arms the way her salt is left all day after a swim in the morning. It is not their fault that they break my heart, it is not their fault that I loved the ocean first.

I fell in love on a Thursday afternoon. He had dark hair and eyes the color of my first love. I never thought about how bad it would hurt when his storm came. He consumed me entirely, then his waves receded and my toes were left to dry on the shore. That Thursday, the sun shone so brightly as we laid on the couch. Weeks later, he took me home with only the words, “This *****.” No one ever said the ocean was poetic. The scent of his salt took me home.

As our silent goodbyes were exchanged that cool Sunday night. I could not stop thinking about her, my first love. I prayed to God as the tears rolled down my hot, red cheeks. I thanked her in my mind for preparing me for this, for this gut wrenching heart break. I stepped away from the truck. I clenched my fists, and I knew the love. I knew the pain already. This was familiar. His scent, home. Now I was in a place of fear. The fear she had showed me. The ocean is relentless, and so was he. The ocean’s currents take over 100 lives a year in the US alone. I was drowning in his space, but I made it out. I will not be a part of that number. I am not a number, and you cannot build a home out of the ocean.
Oct 2017 · 346
Body Chemistry
Rhianna Powell Oct 2017
We learn about exothermic reactions the day after you take me home. We have been spending so much time together. We lay in bed and we sleep and we hold each other. I kiss your hand on the ride home and you smile at me. I wonder how much heat we have given up, in every encounter our bodies have made. Every time our lips touch, the heat rises between us and I can feel your breathing quicken. You’ll grab onto me and the heat goes up. I wonder as our bodies move and you kiss my neck, how much heat? Your hand moves across my skin desperate for my love, with friction always comes heat. The heat. The amount of heat between us- we could have started a million fires. I am still burning. Your fingers leave trails of ash on my flesh. Your scent stains my face and I cannot breathe from the smoke rising between us. Your eyes glow like embers and the passion increases. Your mouth kissing me desperately trying to keep it alive. Honey, what you don't know is that you don't need to try. It is there and I am here and I am looking at you. I feel the heat, I will not shake with you for you are my fire glowing in the night and I have found my way back home again.
Oct 2017 · 933
Rhianna Powell Oct 2017
College in the sun is a lot like middle school. Everyone is walking around screaming at each other drenching their skin in perfumes that they think smell good but they mix with their sweat and it forms a sort of nauseating scent that lingers in the halls longer after their group has gone. Together everyone walks, college is lonely. Passing by faces you see around lecture, everyone running in a million different directions. The athletes wear short shorts and keep hard looks on their faces. The frat guys play obnoxious beats as they rap their own songs marching with their gang of pledges in their entirely too-hot-for-the-90-degree-weather suit jackets. Their beady eyes devour you, or they won’t even glance in your direction- it usually depends on how many items of clothing you have on, or lack thereof. College is weird. For some reason I thought maybe everyone would magically be more mature. Maybe they would all turn into good people because we are all adults now right? Guess who was wrong! Nice good ok. So they might have more ****** hair and maybe their muscles are bigger than before, but most of them haven’t grown up. Every phase change of my life, I have expected to see a difference in the behavior of the people around me… not yet has it happened. I am starting to think maybe I am asking too much of the world. Maybe my idea of good is distorted, maybe I am the crazy one. But what is so hard about being kind and what is wrong with telling someone you are in love with them? Why are we living in the dark places of our minds and why can we not escape? Why are we hiding in the liquor, why is near death not enough? Why can you not sleep without your drugs? Why have we become so dependent? I have dreams nightly when I am not in your arms. They haunt me in the sunlight on a clear blue sky day. The terrors seize me and I am forced to stop in the middle. I see their eyes on me. Is she okay?? I wish I didn’t feel so alien. I wish I could just fit in. But you told me I wasn’t like them, and you said that was good for you. But here I am and you need your space and here I am drowning in your space and there you are drinking your beer and here I am wishing that can was my neck there you are crumpling it as you finish yet another and here I am begging to be destroyed there you are: calm, content, emotionless. Here I am, begging for sleep to take me, praying to God that your arms find their way back around my waist. There you are with everything you need: an ending to assure you that all you need is to be alone. A final goodbye so you can keep yourself safe. But here I am saying **** safety, can you kiss me? I need you to stay. Please don’t take me home, i won’t be able to sleep without you. Please don’t do this. I am sorry I am crying. Please don’t do this. Honey… please.. I nee

And when you find me again I will be okay, and you will tell me it was all just a big mistake. I was never a mistake.

I’m sorry I’m not talking to you. I am giving you space.

I am drowning in your space.

I don’t want to feel like this.

Maybe you should just take me home.

I’m sorry...

I’m sor

But maybe it’s not even that deep and I'm just freaking out for no reason but I don’t know how to feel inside of me You’ve gotten all in there and everything's mixed up and i’m uncomfortable but you’re the one who asked for space and you said i wouldn’t understand and you’re right i don’t but every one before you I said this one is gonna hurt like hell when I’m done but it’s never been this and maybe it isn’t even over but maybe it should be because I cannot keep the tears from rolling down my red ******* cheeks and all I can think about is kissing your neck and i don’t wanna go home i want to be wrapped up in your sheets and I want to feel the rise and fall of your chest on my back and i want your hands to grip mine as you fall asleep in spurts and I don’t want to go home please do not take me home I want to live in the moment by the pool with the sun streaming through the trees a sky so blue you confuse it for my eyes please don’t take me home you said it’s more passionate how can you throw that away i am not convincing you i swear but i think you love me and you hate to admit it and maybe I’m wrong and maybe I’m crazy but i want you to stay please don’t take me home maybe it isn’t that deep I am giving you your space i miss you i am drowning in your space please don't take me home i don't know what i did wrong im sorry im sad maybe i should take medication i don't know how to live in that place i am so sorry i am trying maybe the conversation was bad please don't take me home i cannot sleep in the cold without you but maybe it isn't that deep i am sorry please don't take me home i cannot sleep without you please don't take me home please but i will give you your space but i wish your space could have me i am drowning out here baby please don't take me home i want to go home but i need you to come with me because if i leave i will not come back and i can't hurt you like that but i know this is what you want and i am so very sad honey please don't take your space please don't i need to be there with you i am so sorry baby I never meant to act like this please don't take me home i swear i’ll behave please i need you i can't stand the cold you know how the dreams are you know i shake in the dark please don't take me home i can't go home i don't want to go home please they are going to get me they will get me they know when I’m like this they want to ruin me please don't leave me in the dark i cannot sleep without you please do not go I have faith i don't want to hurt you please let me hold you i need you come back please don't leave please please it hurts i cannot breathe please come back i want to call you please i don't love you it's not that deep please come back i need you

I am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you what you want i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you the space i will give you the space this is me giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you the space you want it i am giving it to you to you to you to you to you i am giving you space i am sorry i am giving you space i wish i could talk to you i am giving you space don't worry i am fine i am giving you space i am giving you space i am sorry i am giving you space i am giving you what you want i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am so sorry i am giving you space i am sorry i am sorry i am giving you space i miss you i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space and i am giving you space i am giving you space and if i give enough maybe i can get far enough away i am giving you space maybe if i keep giving you more space you'll forget me i am giving you space and you'll never have to be confused again i am giving you space is this enough i am giving you space i'll keep giving you space i'll give you whatever you want baby you deserve it all i am giving you space and space and space and space and space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving space you space you the space you need i am giving you what you want i am giving you space take me home i will let you have all of this space i'll be in ohio soon and all of the space between us will be yours and i hope it's enough because i am giving you all of my spaces and now there is no room for me to breathe i am giving you space honey i am giving it to you giving it to you honey i am giving you the space i am giving it to you i am handing it to you i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving it to you i am giving you space i don't know where to go i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i won't sleep but you will in this space and i hope it feels good i am sorry that i got so close to you that you couldn't breathe i am giving you space now and i hope it feels good i am giving you space you wanted this i am giving it to you i am giving you space i am sorry i hope this feels good i am giving you space my words are coming i miss you i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am not selfish i am giving you space i will drown before you i am giving you space i am giving you space here please take it honey i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space you want i am giving i will keep giving i am giving you space i am so sorry i wasn't enough i am giving you space i want you to be okay i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i hope you're okay i am giving you space are you okay? I am giving you space i am cold in this space leave me here i am giving you space it is freezing i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i might choke we are very far i am giving you space i wish you would tell me to stop but i know you need your space please come back i am giving you your space i am sorry stay there i am giving you your space i am giving it to you i am sorry what day did you leave? I am sorry i am giving you space i don't think i will come back i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you to space i am tired baby i am tired of giving you space i am tired of this please just come back tell me i can stop i don't want to give you space i want to be right next to you please will you hold my hand? Wait i am giving you space i am sorry i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving it to you i am giving it to you i am giving you space i am giving it to you i am giving it to you i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am uncomfortable i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving you space i am giving yo
Rhianna Powell Sep 2017
Forgive you, for the pain you caused. Forget all of the words to my brother’s ex girlfriend’s favorite song. Be patient. Appreciate the separation of a family, because there is beauty in the broken. Accept that I am not always right (I am not always right). Stop getting angry at people for the way that they are. Memorize ALL of my basic multiplication facts (sorry Dad). Remember the way I feel on a warm, fall day before it slips away, so that I can take it with me anywhere. Be calm (when necessary). Stop letting the actions of others dictate my own. Join a book club, and read all of the books. Write consistently, every day, in a journal, until it is full of myself. Stop being afraid of the emotion that lives inside of me. Let my nightmares go, focus on my dreams. Become a doctor and save some lives. Talk to my dad more, I know he misses me. Give up my tootsie-pop addiction. Forgive my brother for his addiction, and let go of the hurt he has brought. Assume that everyone is good until they prove not.  Memorize the way my mom speaks softly to my friends. Do not let my fish die. Run from the constraints and do not turn around. Share my favorite songs with the world. Laugh when I do not want to. Never forget where home is, no matter how far I go.
Sep 2017 · 180
Those Who Listen Suffer
Rhianna Powell Sep 2017
Pick up your glass, sir. Throw it on the ground. Please make sure it shatters, sir. Pick up the glass. Do not hurt yourself, sir. Are you bleeding? Follow directions, sir. Keep moving those hands. Glass between your fingers, sir. Rub them together- try to start a fire, sir. Oh, does that hurt? Can you feel it in your skin, sir? Faster then, keep moving. Listen, sir. You are still bleeding? Do not stop, sir. Throw it on the ground. Throw it on your friend, sir. Drop down. Sir, can you breathe? Are you still listening? You thought you were to stop at the end? You could have gone hours ago, sir. Why are you on the ground? Are you bleeding, sir?
Sep 2017 · 272
Rhianna Powell Sep 2017
My cheeks grow larger with each day
Forming canyons in my skin
Every bit of air
into my nostrils

Food like rubber
Slithers down my throat
I can feel every ounce of my blood
Pulsing through my veins

It rushes to my brain
It rattles against my skull
Pounding all day

                             An unanswered door

The bed holds me up
In all the stiff places
Vibrating softly against my spine

All I can do now is focus on the sound
All of the sound housed inside of me
⎯a choir of pain screaming at the doctors
“Help me, please…”

My kidneys ache
I will myself to shout
But my tongue just rolls around
Hidden inside of my mouth

Behind my custom teeth
It lies there
Mocking me

My children can no longer understand my words


Their glassy eyes stare in confusion
Every time I make a sound
They tell me it’s okay
However, my days are growing short

The golden rays dance through my skull
And I long to be there
Light as a feather
Drifting through the wind

Instead, my bathroom lies miles away
I can hardly stand
To think, this body once could function
Without a helping hand

I am praying to God, take me home
Every restless night
The incessant beeping from the halls
Rings through my ears

I picture my husband’s face, tears wet on his cheeks. His firm hand gripping onto mine. He wants me to stay.

He is begging me to fight

Still, my bones are tired. My eyelids like broken garage doors
His words taste so sweet on my palm
The bitterness of leaving⎯ a rusty pipe in my mouth. I am treading slowly to the end. Bill, I love you and you know I’ll see you again.
Rhianna Powell Aug 2017
We are waiting on the results.
The Fluorescent lights pIERCING my eyes,
causing my brain to throb and smash against my skull.
Oh! The possibilities!
Thyroid condition, pancreatitis, blood clot... cancer?

We are still waiting.
The walls look thick and containing,
but they ooze with the words from the outside world.
I can feel the presence of everything around me.
Paper thin walls could not keep out the fly buzzing by the sink.

Footsteps of many breeze past the door-
back and forth
forward and back
pause, stomp, turn, and back again.
The heels clicking on the unnerving white linoleum.

Why did they pick white anyway?
In a hospital?
All of the colors and the stains,
couldn't they afford a more forgiving color?

My room is safe from the halls
filled with muffled screams,
deep moans,
and the overwhelming stench of *****.
How embarrassing it is to be unable to control the vessel you have inhabited since the beginning?
Will that soon be me?

I do not want to look in their faces.
The dark circles housing their glassy eyes,
and their apologetic smiles.
I think I am going to *****.

My life flashing before my eyes,
and I can hardly hold on to the little lunch I had.
A rapping on the door comes
The visitor does not wait on a response

The doctors glide into the room swiftly and justly-
Whether the news is good or bad,
their indifferent expressions would never tell

All of them look the same
Perfect hair
Glowing teeth
their skin taut,
shiny and rubbed raw with anti-septic

Who are these people anyway?
They "help" us
They "fix" us
so that they can go home to bleach their perfect mouths
and trim their even nose hairs
and buy their perfect children brand new SUVs for their sixteenth birthdays?

"cancer, it's moving an......"

I cannot hear him.

I think I am deaf.

I do not care what Mr. I Still Have Time to Pump Iron and Save Your Life at the Same Time has to say.

Is he still talking?

Honey, your arms won't save me this time.

The silence comes, but I am screaming.

Why does no one ever want to scream?

I am always screaming.

Nothing feels better than having cancer and screaming it to the world.

No one knows how to respond, so we just keep screaming.

and screaming and screaming and screaming

until their ears are bleeding and the tears flood from their face

I am not hurting you but I am dying

so I will scream

and I will scream

until the glass shatters

and my hearing returns

and you will be left

with my infected body

a cancerous lump lying in bed

my mouth in the shape of my scream

but your ears will have healed and your tears will have dried

let my image burn into your mind

your emotions have left you and my cancer has stayed

I am gone and I am still screaming

But now, I am home.
Rhianna Powell Jul 2017
What does it feel like to watch the person you love marry another?
What must that pain feel like?
Is it sharp in your gut?
Does it make your head spin like the wine does?
Does your vision blur at the thought of her lips on another's?
Does your chest hurt?
From the lack of home she had once built inside of you?
As she walks away, do you call after her?
Do you feel selfish now?
Is this really for the best?
Whose best is this anyways?
Yours or Mine?
Does the time linger on each second?

Distractions diminish,
all that is left are the parts she did not take.

The lights of the city beneath you have never been such a disturbamce. You knew the way she loved them. The light spilled through the window of your apartment bedroom, and you remember seeing her reach toward the wall and lay her palm there, as if she was trying to capture the light to keep for her own.

You used to feel her sit up in the middle of the night to watch the city below. You watched her as she dreamed of the outside world, all of the unkown to her. You never imaged she would run away from the warmth of your twin size mattress toward the light and uncertainty of a city that consumed her.

She must be lost- but now you lie in wait at night, willing her to knock on your door. You have never slept with the door left unlocked, but that is because you do not sleep anymore. Your mind is filled with images and sounds of her- her smile. her laugh. the way her body melted into yours. her lips never intruding, they were always so familiar, since the very beginning.

She used to tell you that you reminded her of wine. What does that even mean? You bought her pizza and did not hold her hand. She wanted to dnace with you and you ignored her. Now she has slipped away.

You argued about politics and dreams and the environment, but it was never anger. It was always two people arguing, not to hurt the other but to express themselves. You pulled her to you. Your hands pushed firmly on her. The strength you had never used for violence, just to hold on to her as if she would fly away. Your arms wrapped around her and she would smile. Her body fit in your lap, as you watched her fall back.

You told her you could not love, but there you are wishing you would have begged her to stay. "Where did you go? Why did you leave me?" I know. I know why. This is who I am and I am so sorry, baby. I am scared of the pain, baby. I am not like you, baby. You have been so hurt but yet you still love unconditionally. Why do you love me? Why do you want me to hurt you? Why did you come here? Why did you leave? I cannot keep you but I need you. I need your hands like I need to breathe. The first night you stayed, I was drunk, but I knew I was going to love you. I played a game because I knew I needed you. I saw a fire in you that I have yet to find anywhere else. The warmth that lives inside of you could never be smothered. The light you brought to me was visible. It was raining and I so badly wanted to kiss you. It was hot. I said I was sorry. I should have never made you wait. You stayed anyway. Why did you do that, baby? Why did you then? Why didn't you now? I miss you. Please, come home. I miss you. I am waiting for you to come back home."
Rhianna Powell Jul 2017
I spent the night by the warm fire lying next to a boy I hardly knew. He spoke of religion, and he did not fear the sadness in my eyes. We whispered through the chaos that engulfed us, my eyes fixed on his. The hands that belonged to him,  moved about nervously touching whatever he may find. The words flowed from his mouth in a stream. His gaze, or lack thereof, sent chills across the surface of my skin. My flesh bubbled in response to the sound he emitted. He dreamed of the trees and the moon and all of the stars. My toes were frozen as I laid by his side. When I woke, I untangled my fingers from his and I beckoned my legs to stop hiding underneath his- and I left him.

I wanted so badly to photograph his lips and capture the fire that lived in his eyes. The dim light danced across the floor as our fingers tangoed like two new lovers drowning themselves in each other. he talked of endless giving & selfless love. "romance is beautiful" he said. I wondered if he had meant it. I thought about the moon and the sky and all of the stars. I wondered if he could tell I loved them too. I wondered if maybe he spoke to be heard or if he spoke to drown others out.

The light consumed his face and I never wanted it to come back. The brokenness was disguised by the arguments. He raised his voice and spoke out of turn. I settled and I became quiet. The placid look on my face did not waiver as the storm inside of me roared on. I froze on the floor for someone who needed saving, but when the first sign of light shown, the warmth returned and I was no longer needed. From that moment on, I understood the emptiness that housed itself in my gut. For all of the times I had stayed for someone else, a part of me left to ignite the fire in the other. Worldy things may not fill me. I am a subject of the great unknown and the recognition is unspoken, yet it is constantly ****** forward into the blind, with hopes of one day obtaining clear vision. To understand that is which not to be understood is possible but only for the impossible. With this, i carry a hole. As the others do, it becomes filled, but I recognize the need in others that I do not have myself, and I must give and give until my hands shake and my toes fall numb, then I will leave, more empty than before waiting to be filled again.

the cycle repeats
Rhianna Powell Jun 2017
"How do we beat it?" His eyes begged for a real answer, but he laughed when I stuttered a response.
"It is fleeting, but we do not beat it." I replied.
Why do we work at it if we know we cannot beat it?
We cannot stop, we cannot give up. We have recognized the fight, the endless fight, and the end is always distant in our fleshy eyes, but hope fills us & faith in God.
It fills us until we can hold nothing but the grace of God.
That is the answer.
"How do we beat it?"
"We don't. He does"
Jun 2017 · 365
Cursing the Dashboard Heat
Rhianna Powell Jun 2017
Christmas lasts for months on end.
Nights spent by the anything but silent fire,
evenings spent navigating through the white.
lights from every name and every sign swallow all who venture out.
you took my hand and guided me out from the dark toward the bright world blurred by reds and greens.
"Hot chocolate? Pleeeease."
You laughed in response and returned with a plethora of the drink I did not need.
we made chocolate chip cookies and after we ate them all i crawled on top of you and curled up like my cat does for his mid-afternoon nap.
i bought every Christmas movie I could find at the store.
i have wanted this for so long.
i could feel the snow covering your roof, flake by flake- leaving only a place for the smoke to rise.
you kissed my head as the names of the creators of the first movie flashed across the screen.
you told me it was your favorite, but i already knew.
Now, it is warmer.
The skies are dark and there are no lights.
I can feel the rain on the roof.
I can hear it pounding the ceiling.
I know it is trying to get to me.
I hold my ears as I will the ceiling to break through.
I beg the roof to give up.
I want it to shatter.
The way it would cut my surface would feel better than that of my mind being stuck in these memories on loop.
your face
your smile
your face
your laugh
your face
your hands
your face
the way you kissed me
your face
our fights
your face
your evil words
your face
the first time we met
your face
your face your face
your face
your face your face your face your face your face your face your face your face your face and maybe if i say it enough i will forget what you look like and all i will see are the words i have fabricated in my mind because that is where i am living.
i can make it anything, until i come to, and you are not there anymore.
Apr 2017 · 594
Little Hell
Rhianna Powell Apr 2017
This place has become so familiar, yet it has never felt comfortable. I'm being watched and not even my insides can turn unseen. I've been here, I've stood here, and I'm terrified. I cannot close my eyes for fear that the faces will follow me into what is supposed to be my escape. I cannot escape. I cannot escape myself.
Rhianna Powell Apr 2017
ill drink and ill drink
until his hands no longer feel like his
and his face is him no more
i will feel him against me and i will grit my teeth
and shut my eyes and whisper to myself that it is you
ill keep drinking
until i open my eyes and its your eyes i see
he looks at me and he touches me
but i cannot feel the same
i want to be ok
but my insides are frozen
no amount of warmth from this stranger can melt the hurt you left in your wake
i trusted you
he wants me
i cant have you
so ill drink
and ill drink
until i cannot open my eyes
to see who is loving me now
Apr 2017 · 305
Please, Come Back
Rhianna Powell Apr 2017
i used to spend my time on you. talking to you, laughing with you, kissing you, laying with you, thinking about you. i used to wonder what it would be like if you ever left, i never could imagine the pain completely. it was just something i had never experienced, never desired to know. but i swear, the hole inside of me feels more empty than anything the world knows. the weather is getting warmer, but the cold lives within me now that youve gone. youve left nothing but the words you used to tell me. a hopelessness that i cling to, trying to reassure myself youll come back. or that i will soon wake up, but i never do.
Apr 2017 · 393
You Can Not Love All of Me
Rhianna Powell Apr 2017
i want your warmth in my bed, but i want your warmth in my heart
i need your hands on my lungs, gently running your fingers over the ridges
feel my stomach, trace my veins
******* soul
eat my insides
devour me whole
please dont pick and choose
for some of me is none of me
for you, i need it all
Aug 2016 · 721
Swim to Me
Rhianna Powell Aug 2016
Scribble the words; don't be afraid of them they bring emotion that is begging to be felt, just as you are begging for his touch. Do not show up when you know being there will only make you cry. But do not be afraid to feel. That's why life is so beautiful: everything deserves to be felt. That's how life goes. When you are awake at 3am screaming in your room, burning the candles that you got from the festival, listening to the saddest song your heart has ever felt, do not be afraid. This is how it's supposed to be and when the thought that everything will be okay flashes across your mind like an island in the middle of the vast oceans, swim to it. It is not a mirage, it is not your imagination playing tricks again, it is not the drugs that you never took,. It's as real as the pain in your stomach. Swim to it and do not stop even when it seems you are getting no closer, darling, you are almost there. Don't lose sight. Do not remember the way he said your name or the way his words held you on the surface of yourself. You were made To go deep. Drown in yourself. Don't be afraid of that, because even when you drown, you are saved. He is calling you, He is guiding you young child. Do you not remember He who placed that island just far enough to make you appreciate the journey when you arrive on that shore completely exhausted but just in time to see the most breathtaking sunset your human eyes have ever seen? **** it open those eyes. They are there for a reason! I said, do not be afraid! For why are you afraid of living if you are not terrified of dying? You are on the tight path, keep going. Breathe. Don't be scared. He is holding you. He is holding your hand. Breathe. Listen to the voice saying "it will be okay" because in two days, it will not matter how swollen your eyes were, they still took my breath away in the moonlight. So perfect, standing there listening to yourself for the first time, hearing the words "I love my life" escape from your lips. Could it be? The first time? Even if you are unsure, you mean it because there is nothing perfect about someone that feels absolutely nothing and my God, you are perfect and I know you feel so much more than words could ever say. So, be in love with all of the emotions, the feelings, the heat of the anger, but yet the warmth of your breath as you shout "come back to me, I'm drowning in the middle of the street, staring at the moon so bright. Why can't you be there? Don't worry, don't fear. His eyes are on you and you should stop swimming up stream, lie on your back, watch the galaxies revolve around you in that moment. Time is nonexistent. It's made up. It's a figment of your imagination. Do not watch it tick away. Watch the stars, breathe, do not fear drowning... You know how to swim.
Aug 2016 · 690
The Beaten Do Not Scream
Rhianna Powell Aug 2016
I can't do this anymore
live with the gore
of my body being torn
like its the norm
my eyes are burning
my stomach is churning
I've given myself away
to everyone, every day
look inside
there's nothing to hide
in fact, there's nothing at all
no I didn't fall
you pushed me
I clung tightly
here I go, without a show
tumbling softly with no flow
Rhianna Powell Aug 2016
I wish I could love you
the way that you loved me
not at all, and selfishly

I wish I could walk with my head held high
I wouldn't miss a beat or be bothered by a stranger's sigh

but instead here I am, crawling toward anything giving off a sign of discomfort

I want to put my hands on anything broken
I want to fix their smile
my heart aches for those around me

you see, we are very different
I love endlessly and completely
your love is fleeting and only ever just the beginning
Rhianna Powell Jul 2016
i don't know if i even exist.
i am standing outside with the most beautiful boy i have ever seen in my life.
it moves me over and over to think two people could lie in an extravagant bed holding each other all night- through wind and rain.
the love of two people, a special bond i so envy.
i envy the children they have made out of persistent love.
no doubt these children will find someone who needs them and whom they need in return.
i feel twisted and alone.
oh my insides, my insides scream for a love that hums, simmers, and flares the way the secret fire burns as we get wasted.
i'd rather get wasted with you.
i want your hand stroking my head.
i want to feel important for once.
i want someone that i have been dreaming about.
i have been dreaming so long.
i am so important.
i feel like screaming, begging the universe to provide
but my belly hurts. my palms are ***** and my jaw aches
i am so tired of being viewed as someone to spend time with when there is nothing better to do, or just a 'piece of ***'
how disturbing it is to know that that is the image men receive when they see a semi-good looking woman.
i want to love.
i would take the complications with one over entertaining many.
i can understand why those men are always screaming and pounding on their instruments. no doubt they have been ripped open by the idea of no love.
the lack of feeling.
i can feel briefly and then
i am destroyed once more
i am looking for something i have never had
something i am not even sure exists
But i cannot give up
I will not stop waiting.
It is so clear in my mind.
i deserve it so badly
Jun 2016 · 661
Rhianna Powell Jun 2016
what they don't know is that I said "absolutely not" to his offer of marriage as I laughed through shiny teeth and then we made sweet sweet love upon his former companions divan and we desecrated  the room we burnt that **** Down he lit 300 candles on fire to profess his burning passion to me and he proved it to me with his eyes and drooling lips I can't believe I believed the lie I was blinded by the orange glow that I so loved it made my intestines quiver as I gargled salt water I felt like  Mumbai as the colors surrounded me but the stench overwhelms me I could not breathe and for a moment I felt safe in my own skin as I lay there listening to the uneven sound of his breathing and the way his heart beat matched mine, I'm not joking, EXACTLY the soft glow of the tube flashed against the poorly painting cream walls that we left marks on it was a battle field or a storm and now we lay in the eye of that which our love is swirling about ready to destroy one another over and over and over again I can't take it my body was not made for such violence my heart begs for love and gives love only but yet it does not receive and it is not because it is incapable but it is because those who surround me are so unwilling to open theirs for fear of letting a dark being inside to shatter the windows of their home they have spent their entire lives building and because of this they do not expand they do not grow they are scared they fear and they tell themselves over and over again "I cannot do it" we all reach this point but at this moment of saying you cannot is when you must
May 2016 · 645
The Beginning
Rhianna Powell May 2016
could be the Midas touch, except not at all. Everything touched does not solidify into something valuable, instead it disassembles immediately losing the vibrant colors.

As I shuffle through this once magical place, the trees swoop low reaching for extending with their spiny tips.

My legs are bruised from the countless blows I took from myself. My feet are blistering in the dirt beneath my spoiled flesh. The tears are relentless down my cheeks, the flow hasn't slowed just as the river my comrades think is so beautiful. Contrast it with my face, let it haunt your memories, tell me you think it's beautiful now. continuing down this rotting path, my limbs dismantle as they have grown weak, my head topples to the hard earth with a disturbing thud.

an overwhelming sense of peace consumes my mind at the idea of no longer continuing to ***** a seemingly perpetual journey through the coldest hell I have ever been in. I used to be warm now I am shaking vigorously lying on the ground. my eyes tilted toward the movement in the brush. the sounds grow louder as they draw nearer to where I lay. the moon has abandoned me, my last true partner. he has gone behind a curtain of smoke to hide his eyes from what he is about to witness. of course, he knew he couldn't save me!! silly man why did he try, maybe it was because I couldn't touch him from so far. He smokes another cigarette immediately turning my eyes black. the trees are ripping at my intestines. Now, the peace has gone and there is nothing left to do but close my eyes and await the horrendous ending.

and then I felt her soft hand, and my tears no longer fell for fear of dying.
I was saved.
May 2016 · 463
She Is Not Beautiful
Rhianna Powell May 2016
she's selfish
she's heartless
destroying everyone in her way
she doesn't look back

she doesn't think twice
she smiles in the face of fear
and does not listen to what they hear
she stands tall among the lilies laughing with the sun

what they can not believe is the fire licking her toes consuming her from the inside out flame bursting through her eyes can she even breathe does she even know what she is doing

she travels alone everyone close to her being shoved from somewhere dark
she wants to be alone
she has seen too many glass homes razed behind her

she turns
the fear in her eyes now
"What have I done?"
her hands shaking vigorously
bleeding from somewhere unknown
"God, why did you make me this way?"

an overwhelming sense of disgust and disappointment washes over her she falls and keeps falling begging the landing to be sharp and unforgiving

the only way to feel better, is to feel nothing at all
Rhianna Powell May 2016






May 2016 · 217
Rhianna Powell May 2016
if you think it is about you
it is probably not
I have a million and one
you missed your shot
May 2016 · 566
Rhianna Powell May 2016
" All good things come to an end. "

Focus on the fact that good things end. Only good things end, right? The bad is seemingly endless, right? Baby, you could not be more wrong. Your cynical mind breaks my heart. You see, all things come to an end. Whether or not we exist to see the ending, the ending comes whether the life was deemed "good" or "bad." I beg you not fix your eyes on the ending of the good, but praise the idea of the bad failing to exist eternally. Now that you know, what is there left to fear? Our beautiful lives shall soon be taken, why must you drown yourself in your frightened thoughts? Darling, tell me what IS there to fear? Death? No, of course not. Do you fear hurting? Hurting others? Hurting yourself? What do you think we do? Every day we suffer for God's sake. We make others suffer, indirectly &, for the ill hearted, directly. Irrationality in and of itself is the idea of fearing something of which is inevitable. Live your life driven into a wall. Lay on the floor and mash your knuckles into your skull. Fear yourself. Fear the idea of missing out on the chance to love someone so deeply you could never breathe again. Drown in the idea of something beautiful. Why drench your flesh with regret when you have all the ability in the world to grasp whatever you want by the throat? Fearing the hurt is normal, but letting it stop you from living is inexcusable.  Regrettable. Fear is irrational. Fear exists only in the mind. Fear lives where you feed it. I dare you to let it eat you until you die. That way the end for you has taken place, and you will no longer worry for the things ending around you. We destroy one another, but I love the mess it makes. My blood mixed on the floor with the bile from your past. Look me in the eyes and confess to me what you are scared of. Get off your knees and keep walking. For the wind will continue to blow, but one day it will stop. It will be calm and you will feel light. You will be happy, but you will realize there is something missing. You look around at the placid scene, what could possibly be missing? I am all alone.

I do not fear the hurt. I invite the hurt into me. I let it fester in my bones. I let it run through my veins, and just as easy as it comes, I release it again into the world. The hurt is what makes me. I will never sacrifice an opportunity solely because of the hurt. I want to live, and I want to Feel your lips against mine. I beg for the winds to blow into me while the sun shines on my face and I will find myself in the same serene scene, but the difference is

I will not be alone.
May 2016 · 611
I'm sorry, Mom
Rhianna Powell May 2016
waking up is hard
it's the hardest thing I do
I hate waking up
almost as much as I hate myself

if I were happy kr wouldn't be so hard
if I could face myself it wouldn't hurt so bad

do you ever wonder what it's like to hate every single part of your being?
well I don't have to wonder
I know what it's like

and it's ******* hell

my words are punches to my gut
my thoughts slice my skin
the images in my mind burn holes in my flesh
I cannot breathe

I'm sobbing I'm inconsolable
don't ******* tell me I look pretty
don't ******* tell me I look hot

how could I ever believe your words when mine are telling me different
I find comfort in them, they are constant
does that make me insane?

I don't love myself
and I know they tell me I should

"how can anyone love you if you don't love yourself?"
how the **** am I supposed to know?
i am and endless flow of love towards others but why is it so hard for me to love me

maybe it's because I'm suicidal
maybe it's because I'm images are forever tainted by the fire I have stumbled through
my finger tips are singed and my hair smells like your ******* cigarette smoke

I want to die

every second of every day i would rather be dead

I'm laughing

but I mean it

I'd rather hurt than anyone else, but there's so much hurt in me I can hardly stand anymore

I want to smash my ******* skull into a wall

I want to let my bones shatter and my body go limp

I am submissive anyways

I ******* **** anyways

I don't want your ******* pity or your ******* "no don't say that!!!"

you don't know what it's like to be me

it's a ******* nightmare

try waking up and being SO UPSET that you are who you are

I have to force myself to leave my home

I am at war
a constant battle with seemingly no end

I am tired
how much longer must I fight?

my fingers are slipping my hands are tired my arms are numb

I'm falling now

do not catch me

I want to hit the ******* ground
Apr 2016 · 281
Rhianna Powell Apr 2016
I used to believe the cure for cancer was encrypted in your words.

I've grown to learn that you are the cancer.

and your words, only doing collateral damage- destruction of my cells, my being.

irreversible sickness


my judgement clouded with pictures of you

bad things always look the best

I loved what I thought you were & what you taught me.

I do not believe that people who are sane love the illness.

I am sane.

I don't love the sickness.
Apr 2016 · 242
Previous Lovers
Rhianna Powell Apr 2016
I carry the fears deep inside
Sometimes they are more than I can hide

When I am with you
I sometimes forget to breathe
It's like we have been doing this all along
Sitting here,
You & Me
It feels familiar
Maybe we were lovers in a past life

When we kiss
I am not sure if I am kissing you or
if you are kissing me
but I love the way your lips feel
& I can hardly keep from brushing mine against every other part of you

Your soul is beautiful
I can feel it burning from within
Whenever you stand near me

Do you think it will last?
I am scared of the past
Can you let me in?
I am dying within

If you are scared
It can be repaired
I will kiss you until they are gone
& then you will play me a song

As we lie in the dark
I listen to your breathing..
the rise & fall of your chest
It almost matches mine
This is a sure sign.

I listen to your heart.
Yes, it is still beating.
Do you fear that it is not?
I can show you how to fix that

If you never understand,
I think I will be okay
But, please, can you try?

I have waited awhile,
and i will wait longer

I am not certain what we could be
but whatever it may be
it will sure be **** beautiful.

Can you wait to see?
Lay with me
and I will ply open my chest
Can you handle seeing me?
Without my skin, bones, or flesh?

To mask all the pain in the depths,
the furthest corners of my being,
would you be willing to travel all that way?

It is a long climb,
I will not lie.
And I'm uncertain about the weather
and I cannot promise anything spectacular upon your arrival
But maybe there is
Can you wait to see?
Hold on to me

Is it worth it?
I see oceans in your eyes
& galaxies at your finger tips
Can you show me what lies inside?

I hang on to your words
I would drown without them
Can you see?
Oh, baby, you mean so much to me
Apr 2016 · 731
Pain is Not Temporary
Rhianna Powell Apr 2016
Do not take these words lightly. They are heavy. they are more than just words. they are supposed to throat punch you. I beg you to let that blood drip from your eyes as my words seep with regret. feelings are never appropriate. what would a world be like if "they" never told us to stop? "stop crying," "quit laughing," "control yourself," "calm down...." my words are more than just words. do not read them do not look at them. they mean nothing unless you can feel them. put them on your tongue and taste them. feel them as they slide down your throat, and memorize the trail they blaze through your veins. taste them the way you let her lick your skin, put them in your mouth like that cigarette smoke you loathe. ecstasy to your brain & smudges to the rest. let them cut you the way you slice your arms, rip your chest open I dare you to breathe. are you uncomfortable? I would apologize but I am an object and only that. we do not apologize we are submissive. pick me up and throw me against the wall, watch me shatter I hope I get stuck in your eye. so now you will forever see me, forced to look at me and live with me the way you never would if you had the choice. bend me, throw me. I have shattered. I am unbroken. use me. take your hands & reach inside of me. pull yourself through the light, search for a way out and get caught in the dark. are you scared? colors would mean something if you would open your eyes. This could be easy, but you are so obsessed with being hard.
Apr 2016 · 219
Late Nights, Early Mornings
Rhianna Powell Apr 2016
It is three am and my mind keeps traveling to places that contain only you

I beg to go elsewhere
I search far and high
for any place else,
but the greatest I can find
is only where you lie

Darling, your soul
destroys my kind.
we can not understand where something so beautiful came from.
the world itself is great,
yet people disappoint-
but here you are and there she is and I am less than but God I wanna be so much more

inside of me, you have sparked something
that continues to burn
I know in my heart
this burn is not slow, yet it remains constant
flames climb thru me, clawing at places they should not
consuming me endlessly

I have never felt so helpless and so scared before
after knowing you are out there,
and that I am not with you..
How could I not be?
I feel so incredibly alone
I love you, of course.
You are free.
but I am not
you have captured me

from here where do I go?
I am constantly wandering and constantly wondering...
will my heart ever let go?

my mind is so incredibly infatuated with the idea that the world could be THIS beautiful
I have seen it.
I have felt it.
I want it every waking moment.
does that make me selfish?
I want it, but I would rather give it.

There is so much to learn,
but I am learning in all the wrong ways.
it is painful to do and it is painful to be somewhere where you know you do not belong

maybe one day I will see
you and her and him again
I miss you dearly
fly free for me
change the world and still be

— The End —