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Rhian Williams Apr 2016
You stop to think
To listen before you speak
The atmosphere consuming you
Pulling you deeper and deeper

You lose yourself
Succumbing to numbness
The deafening sound of a million mosquitos
Piercing every sound barrier

A sudden jolt of adrenaline
The wind catches your breath
You see it float away
With nothing but helplessness

Perhaps there is a way
To pull through
Or, perhaps, there is not
But this is it for now

You stop to think
To listen before you speak
Only you find yourself
Clutching on to thin air
Rhian Williams Dec 2015
No hell can be worse
Than this one we've created
Rhian Williams Dec 2015
We were always together.
We were 1000 miles apart,
Yet we were together.

As one.
We were always as one.
We were on opposite sides of the world,
Yet we were as one.

We were always different.
We were in the same place,
Yet we were different.

A pair.
We were always a pair.
We were a mix and match,
Yet we were a pair.

In love.
We were in love.
We were completely and utterly in love.
In love with life,
In love with love.

I was in love with you,
Yet you could not love me back.
For you did not care about being in love.
And you did not care about anything in the world.

You cared for yourself.
And with that,
I cannot disagree.
Rhian Williams Oct 2015
I find myself locked
Between my flaws
In that I love too much
And I love too hard

There's not much I can do
Than just be apologetic
But living an apologetic life
Leads to apologetic stories

So I wish to not say sorry
For I cannot change this
My flaws are my flaws
And they are what make me

This is not an apology
Just a warning
For my love is large and strong
And I cannot stop for anyone
Rhian Williams Oct 2015
Have you not noticed
that she changes daily?
That her words and mannerisms
Simply aren't the same?

Can you not see
That from the way she stands
It is not part of her usual
Flirtatious, provocative ways?

She used to stand tall
And walk with a confident stride
But that has been taken
Viciously, so viciously, away

She now slouches
Unable to breathe a breath
as strong as before
Waiting for the night to fall

Each day she wonders
'When will it come?' For she wishes
that her punctuation today
Will not be a full stop.

She lingers on the commas,
On the moments to break.
She wanders nearer the page edge
In hope to not reach the dreaded mark.

But she will stumble upon it
And much to her surprise
It will not be the end
For her story's only just begun.
Rhian Williams Sep 2015
There's something about the rain
The way it can soothe
Yet cause a storm
And is associated with sadness and pain

I usually like the rain
It takes you in
It surrounds you in its pool
It will cover you from head to toe

Its droplets land on bare skin
Unprepared for what it has to offer
But falling to you graciously
In it's tumble down

What I don't like about the rain
Is it's connotations of heartache
For it should not be this way

I visualise the rain as romantic
It enables the purest of moments
An innocent touch of people
In their hectic dash for cover

We should be like the rain
We should not settle
We should rise again
Albeit for another fall

It is not sad, the rain
As it is how we should be
Falling for each other
Landing in times of need
It gets worse
  Aug 2015 Rhian Williams
Shanice Mckie
Who is mad?
Is it I?

But if I am mad then how aren't you?
Perhaps you are mad and I am sane

How does one know if one is sane?
How does one know if one is insane?

But is insanity a luxury?
Or is the luxury sanity?

What if one was sane but recognised the sanity as insanity?
Would one be insane then?

Or perhaps one was insane but to the eye insanity was sanity?
Would one be sane then?

What if sanity was insanity and insanity sanity?
Would the lack of clarity over insanity and sanity be but a normality?

Or is the true clarity that insanity is a normality?
For who is sane?

Is it I?
I, who dreams dreams and inner thoughts are most shy?

Who wakes when she sleeps
And sleep when she wakes?

Perhaps we are all in subdued insanity
If so isn't insanity a normality and sanity out clarity?

Or insanity is our clarity?
And sanity is a dreamed up notion for normality?

Who is mad?
Is it I?

Or the world in which there is no clarity over insanity and sanity?
And there is nothing but a formality which is normality which should or should not be insanity?
Copyright Ice Munday©
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