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Riley Smith Feb 2020
I find you seeping through the cracks of my dreams, like a drug entering in through the intricacies of the bloodstream. The shock slowly coursing through my veins, the fluttering of butterflies in my stomach numbing the nauseated sensation such strong remembrance brings to me. A connection so intense the feeling is of hot steam; Burning, building, only to break down from pressure between your dagger of a stare and my eyes. MY EYES, nearly bulging from their sockets, from what feels like a memory that hadn’t been unlocked yet.

You fade in, a recollection once lost, bringing emotions towards you I had wrongfully believed were depleted. It seems waves are rushing in as you saunter my way, while I stand their in awe after thinking your presence was excreted. Heart beating faster, what else in this fleeting reality could possibly matter to me, but you?

Something about you draws me in, possibly the naturality of the way you walk, the way you breathe. The effortless existence seen within the gleam of my windows to the world, whilst my brain erases what I fear to know; What is left in your path could destroy me in an instant. Though I continue to stand here, in my neutrality, not able to move as you creep your way closer to me. I find my hands beginning to tremble, you brush my hair to the side. I shudder.

You whisper so softly in my ear, something I’m unable to make out. Some disarrayed echo entering my void, lungs inhaling and exhaling as if in a panic. All I know now is that I can feel your breath, frigid like the reaper of death, sending chills deeper into my core and that one phrase resurfacing, repeating clearer than day within my cerebrum, clattering like pinball inside my skull.

“Things without all remedy should be without regard: what’s done, is done.” As William Shakespeare once wrote. Upon recognition came the sense of stun. I must go, I must leave, for there is no remedy for the past fires you left in your trail. Our past, an extremity. A place I can’t cope with in order to revisit; a momentary glance into what once was, what no longer can be, seemingly an ungraspable love now lost. Or is it?
The rough draft of a dream once had, but never fully grasped.
Riley Smith Dec 2016
Blatant faces of surround my shell and I find myself in wonder.  Do those around me veritably exist? A spectacle washing itself away in an instant, water color curling outwards in wisps of blue, meeting a pale white end.
Rain hitting the sickening exterior of your body, a world full of filth becoming clean from your eyes like the satiny skin concealing your bones through the running of each drop.
An image created by your own insanity, wrapped up within your cranium.
Your shredded soul seeping through your pores, leaking into the empty space around you, a making up of so much revulsion, such a gloomy destination to arrive.
A figment of imagination.
You are my everything, yet nothing at all.
A free verse poem written within a moment of disconnect.
Riley Smith Apr 2016
I know now that I can not reach for the stars.
Especially the dying ones.
You bleed the ones who hold you close white.
Whether it was your intriguing mind or your bright blue eyes,
the sky seems to be so out of reach.
It's time to let go of something that was never mine.
Riley Smith Apr 2016
The suns rays hit your eyes.
Creatures staring in and the heartless staring out.
Incautious of the blinding sun.
Oblivion,
Oh we meet again.
Deeper and darker we go, into oblivion.
I feel dark blue as memories mesh and horrors unfold,
Right before my very eyes.
Blue, blue tides.
So many emotions floating around within my inner conscience.
Blue being the color you see
Before your lungs collapse,
And your eyes roll into the back of your skull.
Injustice to the best of us as we are wither away in inescapable oblivion.
I feel as if I am stuck in a continuum of dreams.
Riley Smith Mar 2016
Nobody seems to like my poems
although I fill them with the pain that
circulates from my head to my toes.
Expressing emotion is so hard to do
yet people expect that it's a simple trick
a thought come to mind, either a hit or a miss.
But it's so much more you see, the horrors
locked away in the depths of your soul
written down on a page for the public to see,
a way to vent those nights you spent in the
dark. What's the point of creativity if it cannot
be shared, if those around you don't find meaning from
all the time that you spend, hidden away behind a screen
broken down and typing the thoughts you have stored for
years. Though this poem might rhyme little, I hope that
you see that I'm just a girl behind a computer screen, hoping
to find someone like me.
This was pointless, a bit of a rant and an expression of myself in some ways more than others. This is probably the sloppiest work I have ever done but it's all that comes to mind.
  Mar 2016 Riley Smith
Ironatmosphere
The pills have gotten easier to swallow
And my anxiety has gotten quieter
But the sadness is still there
Amplified
And I try not to cry in public
But there is always that one tear that escapes
A runaway
And I wish I could follow its lead
And escape this world
Escape the shackles of time
For what is the reason of existing?
If existing is all you do?
Riley Smith Mar 2016
envy those who find sleep at night
as I lay awake consumed by fright.
Darkness swallows my sight which just
might cause me to lose the little sanity I have left.
I need insight on what's truly right as I wallow in self
pity, controlled by the night.

What a sight it is to see what has become of me,
a girl so small in a world so large,
staring at the stars through the window straight ahead
as I lay down my head and beg for tranquil sleep to
overwhelm what's left of me.  I need sleep.
I hate this place I'm in.
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