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ryn Oct 2017
Sticks and stones...

Thoughts are just
sticks and stones.

But words...
They break bones.
ryn Oct 2017
I miss the roar of the fires...
The warmth of the flame
that fuels the luscious
red in me.

I despise the wiles
of indifferent clocks,
the incessant ticking...
That eats into skin and bone.

I anticipate the return of colour.
For all I see, only lingers
within the seemingly infinite
levels of grey.

But I loathe the notion...
That when that time
would finally arrive,
all would’ve turned to stone.
ryn Oct 2017
I hope you understand
when my lips seal shut
and my touch,
empty and cold.

I hope you understand
when my words are hardly
voiced and my silence
grow thick and bold.

I hope you understand
when I appear disconcerted
and this skin just rubs me irate.

I hope you understand
that I am in battle
and the demons
are at the gate.
ryn Oct 2017
This time I have,
is but a gift.

Meant to heal
broken skin
and fractured bone.

But I realise
that there's more...

•••

What if,
repairing physical damage
is but a facet of
unanticipated tribulation?

What about...
Shattered thoughts?
Disjointed ideals?
Misplaced hopes?
Askewed trajectories?

•••

Maybe...
This time too is meant
to get my stars in alignment.

But right now there just aren't any...
ryn Oct 2017
Days with deficits
Let me give you what you need
Take all you can get
ryn Oct 2017
You don't see my eyes...
They look away whilst my cheeks
with a band worn thin,
hold up this mask.

With effortless ease,
I maintain this smile
plastered upon the sheen
of cheap mouldable plastic.

Fooling others
with a face acceptable by default,
when my neck and collar
stain wet.

Protected and hidden
are my innermost thoughts
and emotions - a morbid
sense of oneness and freedom.

I, therefore, cannot shed
such an accoutrement.
This mask - a fort I will hold and
a bastion, I will not compromise.

Because behind it I feel safe, hidden
and unjudged.
ryn Oct 2017
Inclined to wonder

If time is worth rewinding

To rewrite the past
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