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ryan brighton Apr 2020
1.
Moonbeam like a kiss on the cheek.
you have watched me every night,
whether i drown in a well of tears
or laugh until i cry just as much.
should i thank you or envy you?
while you watch me from above,
should i wish i had the same aerial view?

2.
Pull each tidal break to shore,
you're like a rip current, dragging me in
further and further each and every night.
just enough light for me to navigate a crowded earth,
just enough dark to cover the evil i know is there,
but if i cannot see it, maybe it's not there.

3.
I used to believe you followed me
when I looked out the window on long car rides.
But you don't exist for me.
You exist because you must.
ryan brighton Apr 2020
because you are mine,
something inside me screams "no"
i need to be loved.
ryan brighton Apr 2020
you are not someone i can bury myself beneath.
you are someone i am meant to forget.
disappearing like dew in the morning,
you are not art, as much as i say you are.
ryan brighton Apr 2020
sadness is my drug
when happiness is too much effort
too much to pay for
too easy to give up.
i inject you to feel something-
really, anything.
because you're the easiest thing to feel.
sometimes i want you.
i want to feel sadness to see how far i can go without you being too permanent,
without you flooding my system for too long.
but i know no limits,
so there is no "too long"
there is no "too much"
and there never has been.
so i acquiesce to your slowdance
i yield to the malediction that is you.
try to read your esoteric scriptures,
the ones that scream my name
begging me to sign my soul away to you.
you fetter me, like a hostage in my own body
and i let you.
it's easy to let you, especially when you enamor me with pretty words and bitter thoughts
a veneer of gentility and grace, false euphoria beyond my own belief.
stoicism was something i once valued,
but now i'll do anything to feel anything.
ryan brighton Apr 2020
an apparition in the doorway,
your love walked out
but you stayed.
there was once calculation
in how you ran your fingers
up and down my arms-
a subtlety i could not identify
but one i knew was there.
it evolved from a matter of love in the dark
to something you can be afraid of even when the lights turn on;
you are afraid to be afraid.
so now, when you touch me,
it is less of a waltz,
and more of an apathetic amble
across my barren skin.

— The End —