Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Samara Reddy May 22
Quiet in my velvet dreams
gleaming with beauty queens
ultraviolet veneers
under crystal clear chandeliers

Awake. Never quite getting the reckoning.
Instead you're beckoning
me to your charade of promise
but I'm stuck in the forest
where you're my Charon
following me to the limestone,
dragging me back to the gates
and I know you mean well, but it doesn't resonate.

I've abandoned all hope and entered
Feeling like I've surrendered
What is it I will remember
when we get to November?
Biting my arm
in moments of harm
or
braiding my hair
with you just being unaware?

It all seems silly
like a grand facade really
where I can't see why anyone
can buy into becoming a chameleon.
Why take it so serious
when it just feels delirious?
What is it we're racing to
at the end, it's the same view.
Who is it for?
I really must make sure.

Waiting for my Virgil
To guide me through the hurdles.
He's no where to be seen
as I choke on my amphetamines.
Samara Reddy May 22
the church bell tolls
one, two, three times for my soul
God will never take away
my reason to pray

sighing between sips of cyanide
my pace a little slower
my eyes a little lower
it's all quite hazy
living in a day dream
Samara Reddy May 22
your gunpowder steel
on my sycamore blues
haunted by vanity
on a string just out of reach
escape the perpetual debt
we have to our makers
captive in sun strewn streaks of shade
never to feel the warmth of its gaze
willingly judged by sunburnt noses
for being less than
I just want to sparkle
in the ultraviolence.
Samara Reddy May 22
There it lays,
my tear soaked
pillow case.

In clouds unseen
where they visit me
every night since thirteen

What am I to do
with no avenue to pursue
when they deny my inhibitions
and tell them they're forgiven?

I see what I can't change and
I can't change what I see

I want to want their vision
of tender, loving, harmony
but it feels like swallowing poison
treating my actions remorsefully.

I take each day
one at a time
unyielding to divulge
what comes to me as I lay
every night
on my tear soaked pillow case.
Samara Reddy Mar 18
Hope springs eternal for those who've never
endured a wet candle wick.
Extinguished,
never anguished.
Relentless is the faith that hopes to light it.
Reason is the trust that it never will.
Yours is dry and darkened
but never dampened.
Your hope springs eternal as you only need to find the light.
~SR~
Samara Reddy Mar 16
Garden of Daisies  
Reticent next to the Sage
Drinking my Chamomile.
---
Field of Innocence
Reserved with wisdom.
Taking in the calm...
Samara Reddy Mar 16
My days are filled with a sense of nostalgia
for those that haven't happened yet and
longing for days gone by.

Bouyed by an effervescent iridescence
anchored to the shore of
absurd accusations
vital to self-realizations manifesting
into a festering static buzzing to no end.

— The End —