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Rianna Jan 2015
In my eyes,
the sun rose and set
in yours.
Rianna Jan 2015
lately, I’ve been finding myself
sympathetic
with the alcoholics and drug abusers

and I’ve been creating
and relying
on my own habits
just to feel you again.

I watch the grass glow
and inhale the smoke,
and the sweet taste reminds me
of our nights spent together.

we moved like earthquakes
and our mouths were the desert,
but I still couldn’t keep
my shaky hands
or dry lips off yours.

and I know this is wrong,
because what we had was
only a twisted game of
Pretend.

and I know I can’t keep
wasting my heart,
feeling for people
who don’t feel back for me.

but I guess no one
will ever understand
what it’s like for us,
addicts.

to want so badly
to shatter the half-empty bottles,
to break every last ******* cigarette in the pack,
to stop destroying ourselves.

but I keep on depending
because my altered mind state
is always slightly better
than feeling the pain
of the hole you left
in my heart.
September 25, 2014
Rianna Jan 2015
"I don't love you anymore," she says
as she chokes back tears.
Lying through her teeth,
trying to convince herself
that the words she says are true,
but they aren't
and they never will be.

"I can live without him," she shrugs,
as she tries to find him elsewhere
at the bottom of bottles
and bowls of herb.
Sometimes, she finds comfort
in the arms of strangers,
and for a moment she is content,
but they'll never fill the void
and she knows that all too well.

"I miss you," she texts him
in a moment of weakness,
lying on the bathroom floor
drunk off too many shots
of cheap whiskey.
She knows she shouldn't
but she sends it anyways,
thinking the regret of letting him go
is worse than the pain of loving him.

"I wish I'd never met you," she screams,
and these words are true.
Because loving a toxic person,
someone you know isn't right for you,
is the worst form of torture.
At times she'd take a bullet because it might hurt less,
but the sick side of her loves the pain
and she keeps coming back...

*She still doesn't know why.
You were the hardest to love and the hardest to let go.
Rianna Jan 2015
I don't think
I could get
close enough
to you,
even if
I melted
into your skin.
Rianna Jan 2015
My feelings
are changing.

I feel renewed and
f r e s h
like the blossoms
on a cherry tree,
or the fresh smell of growing grass
peeking through the melting snow.
When the rain comes,
dance with me.
Then take my hand, sit,
and watch as the rainbow
emerges from the dark clouds.

As the months go by,
we become more comfortable
in the summer heat.
The storms are stronger
but the sun is brighter,
w a r m e r.
And I want to spend every night
cozy by a fire with you.
No responsibilities or cares,
just sharing the humid air
and closing the space between us.

Then the color comes
and washes away the green
with beautiful hues of red and orange
and everything is dying beautifully.
But darling,
not you and I.
The nights are colder,
c r i s p e r.
Somehow, everything seems more fragile,
and I think you feel it too
as you press your icy,
October evening lips
gently onto mine.

Now,
the frosty chill of winter is upon us
and I am wrapping myself up in you.
So warm and
c o m f o r t a b l e,
like my favorite sweater.
Feeling your warm breath
on my neck
and your hands
on my hips.
If only this perfect moment,
our beautiful, ever-changing moment,
could last forever.

The spring will come again,
but for now
I only need you
to make me feel new.
Rianna Jan 2015
We wrote REALITY in the sand
and watched the waves
wash it away at our feet.
Nothing hurt;
we were i n v i n c i b l e
Just you and I
against the whole world.
We knew nothing about life;
everything was a game.
All we knew about was love
and each other.
But nothing's coming along
to erase reality from the sand now
as I sit alone on the beach
during low tide.
Rianna Dec 2015
I always have this nightmare
where I’m tumbling down a hill,
rolling faster, picking up speed…
until I’m catapulted off a cliff
into a deep ravine.

In my dream, I wake up gasping
before I can find out
what is at the bottom.

Maybe there are piles of sharp rocks,
glass, needles...

Or maybe there’s a cool river,
plenty of beautiful trees and flowers,
or a soft bed of cotton.

My point is…
maybe it isn’t a nightmare.
It could be a dream.

I know there’s a difference
between falling and flying,
but I don't think I was born
with the ability to tell which is which.

Maybe one day I’ll learn
to let the tide take me away,
to let the ocean take control,
to lose touch with the Earth
without feeling like she’s sitting on my chest.

I hope one day,
I can feel the joy of flying
without feeling the panic of falling.
Rianna Apr 2017
tell me, boy,
when did you begin to notice
the Stars falling from my eyes?
you always told me how bright I was...
surely, you must've seen the light going out.

was it the night
I sobbed into your chest,
and told you that some nights
I feel so cold and alone
even while someone I love
sleeps soundly beside me?
the night I told you
that I am not a good person
and you would be better off without me?
you never believed me
because I buried my secrets so deep,
but ****, if you knew...
boy, you would have ran
before I had the chance to convince you to stay.

or maybe it was the night
I told you that maybe,
just maybe,
there is no forever in our future?
I bared my soul and was met with
resentment and resistance.
we both cried that night.
you told me
there was no one else,
and that you couldn't picture a life without me in it.
snd I cried because
I could not say the same,
and I did not know why.
slowly, you faded from my future -
I could no longer see you
in the life I envisioned for myself.

no, but surely it had to be the night
I left in tears,
in search of answers
to questions I couldn't quite understand.
I almost found them
six feet underground...
I was saved, but not by you.
once again, I saved myself
because I learned my lesson before...
you can't expect the answers you seek
on the journey toward your Self
to roll off the tongue of another.
Wrote this a little less than a year ago, but I've been thinking about posting it for while now so.
Rianna Mar 2015
the hardest part
about missing you
is knowing
I shouldn't.

yet here I am,
up all night
aching and thinking of you
and you're sound asleep.

your dreams aren't filled
with the faces of a lover
who made promises
that were not kept.
(but mine were.)

you don't wake in the morning
wanting to return to your dreams
just to see my face
or hear my voice.
(but I do.)

you don't go about your day
wondering where I am
or what I'm up to
or if I'm thinking of you.
(but I always am.)

and at night
when you lay down to sleep
you don't wish
you were lying right next to me.
(nighttime is the loneliest, you know.)

but I think the hardest part
about missing you
is not dreaming of you,
or thinking of you,
or wishing you were here.

the hardest part
is knowing you made your choices
and I wasn't one of them.
Rianna Jan 2015
I never felt
like I belonged
Anywhere
until I met you.
Before you,
I floated and drifted
but never found
a place I could call
my own.
In your arms
Was the only place
Where I ever felt
Like I belonged,
Like I was home.
That cold, February night,
I settled into you
and knew you were the home
I’d been searching for
for so long.
You silenced my demons
so I could sleep
safe and sound
next to you.
There aren’t many things
I wouldn’t give
to lie next to you again
and wake up to your lips
on my cheek,
or stay in bed with you
until the late afternoon
forgetting that
time even existed.
It wasn’t until I met you
that I realized
home isn’t a place;
sometimes it’s a person.
And mine had blue eyes,
a reckless smile,
and I loved him.
I still do.
I always will.
11/26/2014
Rianna Jan 2015
It's amazing how
a simple tune,
a melody,
can carry so many memories.

Even after all these years,
I heard Our Song
and my heart started to race,
the same way it did when you would look at me
or call me "dear"...

And even though we're distant now,
it's like I can still feel
the touch of your skin,
soft and warm against mine,
before everything fell apart.

I wish we still talked,
I wish we kept in touch,
I wish I hadn't said the things I did,
But it's gone and in the past.

I have no regrets.
And no matter what,
you'll always have a part of me...

and I'll always remember you.
"I will love you now and forever."
Rianna Jan 2015
°°°
You asked me once,
“Will you write about me
if I break your heart one day?”

*I thought you were joking.
"If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die."
Rianna Feb 2015
He asked me
as I said goodbye
for the very last time.

Rambling on about how I was selfish,
cared about no one but myself,
I was a menace,
a *****.

With my belongings in my hand,
and a brooding glare,
I said,

"Because I'm too good for you.
There's nothing egotistical about knowing your worth."
Literally wrote this in 5 minutes, but I started thinking about him again and this is what came out of it. I'd say this is progress.
Rianna Jan 2015
When I was fourteen, and your eyes locked with mine
Like I was the only one you saw in a crowded room.

When you held my hand for the first time
And I got so many butterflies my stomach physically hurt.

When we counted the stars in my backyard,
And you told me you loved me under the glow of the moon.

When we chased fireflies on an early summer evening
And I wished you would always love me when the bug flew from my fingertip...

I’ve never felt more alive than I did in these moments.

Before I’d been broken
More than my fair share of times,
Before the scars healed over,
And became part of my soul,

I loved without fear,
                                  Without regret,
                                                       ­   Without conscience,
                                                   ­                                     Without holding back.

And I think maybe that’s why
My heart will always have a place for you...

Because you take me back to a time
When the most bitter taste in my mouth
Came after I said, “See you tomorrow”
When I dreamt about the sea because it reminded me of your eyes.

You take me back
To when I loved with my whole, beating heart
Instead of a ******, mangled mess.
And because of that,

I’ll never stop loving the thirteen year old boy
Who showed me what it meant to love
And I’ll never stop
Dreaming of the sea.
Maybe I meant nothing to you, but you meant everything to me.
Rianna Jan 2015
A beautiful girl
has a toxic mind;
she tries so hard
to keep in line.

Her thoughts are fire,
wild and treacherous.
They make her believe
that she made a mess of this.

Burned and scarred,
the black smoke passes.
Yet she’s still worried
about falling to ashes

from flaky bones
and charred skin,
but she’d rather burn
than let anyone in.                        
                                     ­                 November 5, 2014

— The End —