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ryn Jun 2017
He stares long into the mirror
Only to see a tattered old book
Every page bears little he's proud of
Every morn he sees but dares not look

He's afraid of the stories
His memories would tell
He's ashamed of the scars
He'd known too well

Everyday he would only dress quickly
Before his demons would sing their claim
Everyday he'd battle the relentless sun
He'd persevere the day only night could tame
ryn Jun 2017
If I was ever presented
with the impossible chance

To accurately chronicle
every subtle nuance

Measured against
the number of elapsing days

No ink would be enough
No hand could keep the pace
ryn May 2017
I consumed a small
vial of courage today.

And it got me out of my mind,
my aches
and my bed.

It got me showered,
dressed
and out the door.

It helped me on the bus,
through the rumble of
the exhausted engine.
It deflected the stares from eyes
who seemingly judged.

It placed me at work.
Fuelled me through
the sledgehammer ticks
that echo never ending seconds.

And I eventually find myself home...

So I consumed a small
vial of courage today.
And I'm brave enough
to admit that I'm afraid.

Afraid that I may be running out.
ryn May 2017
Foreboding walkways
With weight of a million wreaths
Pulling in the walls
ryn May 2017
It lurks at the back of your consciousness.
It dwells in the pit of your stomach.

It is strong.
Strong enough to exist -
behind the facade of calm demeanors.
Strong enough to swim against the currents
of indoctrinated beliefs of righteousness.
Strong enough to be the wrong amidst all rights.

It is the speaker for the voiceless.
It is the doer for the incapable.
It is the strength for the weak.
It is sweet escape for the trapped.

Listen...

It's there in the lull.
When all is quiet, you hear it.
Whispering, inciting, winning you over.

It will take you over.
It will steer the wheel.
But only if you want it just as much.
There's a little bit of evil in all of us.

Inspired by "Dexter", the tv series.
ryn May 2017
.

    oOOo           oOO      OOo     oOo                         
oOOOOo      OOo     Ooo      OO       oOo         
OoOoO                                               Oo          
ooO            •naked feet tread                
  with nonchalance•unafraid
    of what receding tides might
       bring•hardened heels soften
         to sunlit reverence•children
                   frolick accompanied by
                              unguarded peals
                                 that ring•towa-
                                     rd the ocean
                                      vast we halt
                                     to face•we
                                  look to the
                             horizon and
                         dream of un-
                   seen lands•we
          lift one foot with
   the other in place•
is this all we are...  
just impressions    
in the sand?•      

.
ryn May 2017
Uncomfortable within this skin.
My joints complain
and muscles scream.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


My mind in shambles.
Ideas incoherent
and thought processes
sluggish at best.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


My emotions are in
total disarray.
I'm not happy
yet I'm not anything at all.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


My insides twisting,
splitting.
Every grain and fibre
set on fire.

But people say, "It's normal.
It's more common than you think."


If this is normal,
I'm petrified with
the prospect of
what isn't.
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