Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Syzygy Nov 2014
It's time to paint.
You pick up your paintbrush
Painting a deep
The paint mixes with your tears.
Your pain,
Your grief
Until you go

You paint in secret.
No one understands.
No one sees.
No one bothers to.

I see.
I can see
Your tainted canvas
Your paint,
Your tears.
I can see
And feel
Your pain
And I'm truly
I hug you,
And kiss the canvas.
And toss the paintbrush
You don't need this.
You don't want this.
But you want an escape.
An escape from it all.

So you paint. used to.
Syzygy Mar 2017
Do I love you?

At night, I dream of everything we could have been.
I sleep on my side with only the moonlight framing where you could be, where you should be.

I think of every part of you as deeply as I can because even though I can't be with you in this life, I can at least console my mind and pretend I ever had a chance.

My eyes remain unfocused and dazed as I imagine you because if I ever did decide to concentrate the few fragments of you I have left in the crevices of my mind would shatter.

I hold out my hands and rest them in front of me so I can pretend that you're there and I'm holding you in the bleary distortions created by the blinds on my window.

I no longer see my hands as my own and bring the backs of yours up to my lips, which are either dry or smeared in lip balm only to be chapped but still dripping in the sunrise that would come in mere hours.

I open your palms and run my thumbs over the wrinkles and lines, massaging the softest part just above your wrist. I run my fingers over your fingers, where they meet your palms, and the lines that run along the sides of your hand and between the webbings of your skin before stopping at the tendon. You tense because you don't like your wrists. They're a reflection of darker times.

In a manner I'd typically deem over-romanticized, I place a kiss on your fingers first, trailing chaster touches down to your palms. I ask for your permission first before I kiss your scars, and I hear a soft sigh once I do so.

I pull back and meet your dark eyes, which face away from the window so a halo of light wraps around your hair. I lean forward and press my forehead to yours, the sound of our breathing syncing in the background as our noses touch.

You kiss me. But it's not the kinds of kisses you usually give me like the ones we shared in front of your friends. It's the kind I can only get in moments like this, too tender for the rest of the world to ever really understand and too precious for me to ever really explain in a competent manner.

Our lips part and I feel your hand cupping my cheek, tilting my head up slightly. I never really got over the subtle touches I'd receive from you, from the feathery skims over my collarbones to the slight squeeze I'd feel when our fingers intertwine. I think you know that.

I think you also know that this is usually where it stops. Whether I intend for it to or not.

My eyes refocus, and I quickly close them so I don't need to meet my windowsill and bedsheets that mock me. I think about what you might actually be doing now, instead.

You may or may not be sleeping, just as you may or may not be thinking about me. But I know without a doubt that you're thinking about him, and how all the things I'd love to do with you you'd love to do with him if you haven't already.

I decide to let that be the last thing in my mind as a drift off, only to be greeted by more thoughts of you as the sun rises.
Syzygy Nov 2015
"I'm not pretty"
You say as someone compliments you.
"I'm not pretty"
You say as you step on the scale.
"I'm not pretty"
You say as you try on those new pants.
"I'm not pretty"
You say as you leave to go on that date.
"I'm not pretty..."

...Yes. You are.
My dear, you are wrong.
When was the last time you've really seen yourself
Past that *one
and the stretch marks on your legs?

You seem to have overlooked
That sparkle in your eyes
When you talk about something you love.

Or how graceful your fingers are
as they skim the keys of the piano,
as they run down your arms
clasping your elbows
and your back arches forward when you're embarrassed.

Or your skin,
that could easily rival
the softness of your favorite cashmere sweater
which fits loosely over your torso,
bunching at your elbows
when you do chores with me
after saying I "don't do it right".

Or your feet
that trek across the creeks with me
when we sneak out every Saturday
so you don't have to go to your uncle's house
when your mom leaves to see her friends.

Do you not even see your lips?
Their rosy color,
their fullness?
The pair you bite when you're nervous or frustrated
that are usually a bit chapped
especially in this chilly weather.

My dear,
You are pretty.
You're beautiful.
Please don't say otherwise.
This may seem like it's directed purely to females, but males are beautiful, too.
Syzygy Feb 2015
You never needed me
As much as I needed you.

You were the reason I breathed,
But I only made you blue.

I thought we had something,
But it was an illusion
At best.

You were my king,
But I was only your test.

Now that you're gone,
I see my mistakes

I'll no longer look on
To a love that was fake.
(This isn't based on me, I'm a single pringle XD)
Syzygy Mar 2015
“Sooner or later, the pure white shall be dyed blood red.”*
A word
used to describe things
only from people who do not know the truth
about what they are describing.
For even the purest,
white souls,
are stained
with drops of red.
Even the purest roses
That grow on the valley
Are stained with red
Until they are unrecognizable
from what they once were
or seemed to be.
Syzygy Dec 2014
You won't hear me complaining
That it's raining.

You won't hear me sigh
Because of something canceled
Due to the weather.

Rain is
and Enlightening.
At least for me.

Rain allows me to
with a nice cup of tea.
rain allows me,
to think
about all the things
normally looked over
every day.

Rain also allows me to appreciate
more of what's around me,
it's lulling, pulsing rhythm
beating against the drum
called Earth.
Who else loves the rain?
Syzygy Feb 2015
What if
You had to destroy
The one thing
You brought to life?
Syzygy May 2016
I've read so many things to try to comprehend the way I'm feeling.
Years of research.
Decades of those prior to me.
This extraterrestrial rush of chemicals flowing from different parts of my brain
It doesn't feel right.
I hate it.
I am concrete.
Why must these things keep trying to pull me away from the soil in which I was born from and will return to?
From dust to dust.
Ashes to ashes.
I can't fall down.

Everything is ephemeral.
These figments of my imagination that claw away at me.
These thoughts that keep whirring,
grinding the gears inside the factories polluting even the most miniscule crevices of my mind.
But this is slowly warping my earth
My dust
My ashes
To mud.
The molecules change.
Atoms vibrate sporadically.

Dust to dust.
Ashes to ashes.
Fall down.
Syzygy Feb 2015
No one knows
How much I show
Compared to what I hide,
What I keep inside.

I can pass by,
Unseen and unheard.
Trying not to cry,
It's almost absurd.

Sometimes I feel
Like I'm caving in.
It's almost unreal
But the boundary is thin.

Just yesterday,
You said you could see.
That the problems inside,
Are apparent in me.

At this I laughed,
And to your surprise
"Your don't know a thing"
Is what I had cried.

You don't know those words,
I hear every day,
That pierce right through me
Like a knife through soft clay.

You don't know what's happened
In my past or right now
Yet you have the audacity
To raise one brow

And decide who I am,
Who you think I will be
On simple assumptions,
Based on only what you see.

Now please, shut up.
And just walk away.
You're blind like the others,
You think this is child's play.

You speak with 'empathy',
But it's all just lies.
You can't feel what I feel,
So stop with the countless tries
To see if you understand,
To see through my walls,
But on the secrets I hide,
*You know nothing at all.
Syzygy Apr 2015
When people criticize me,
I'm not sure if they realize
But I've already criticized myself
On the exact same things.
Syzygy Nov 2014
I sat on the floor, my face buried in my hands
Slowly I watched her shadow fade-
Never coming back.
As those words rang in my ears,
Deafening, refining-
Slowly but beautifully killing me.

Never coming back.
I slowly drone her voice piercing me all over
As if a pin kept pricking my body
With enough force to cause an eternal agony-
But not enough to ****,
To put me out of my misery.

My soul, slowly breaking-
Alive, but dead inside.
Her voice, deafening, beautiful-
Never coming back.
**This poem was inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven".
Syzygy Mar 2015
I had a dream.
You lay in front of me.
Things were out of our hands.
You were gone.
I couldn't stop it.
You just...
Gone forever.

I wake up,
And claw
The silver space
On the bed where you usually are.
And when I feel nothing but the sheets,
That's when the tears start to fall.
should I write a story based off of this? I kind of want to, but I'm not entirely sure If I should...
Syzygy Nov 2015
Is it too late to say sorry?
Well, ask yourself that, not me.
Do you think you're worth forgiving?

They say
'Fool me once
Shame on you.
'Fool me twice
Shame on me'

But what about more than that?
One hundred times?

And with every time came a "sorry"
"I promise not to do that again".

So before you ask me
And tell me yet another apology

Apologize to yourself first.
For putting yourself into this predicament.
Inspiration: Sorry by Justin Beiber
Syzygy Feb 2015
I know what to say
Just not how to say it.
Syzygy May 2016
my love,
continue with your unfiltered commentary,
ask your questions that pierce my heart because you know that i'm lying to you
ignore that i'm bleeding
just as i've ignored you as you have already bled to your death.
life no longer flows through your veins
as affection never really flowed through mine.
i was gonna try to put a pun here but i guess my inspiration'***** rock-bottom ahA
Syzygy Dec 2014
Sun shines through the cloud
Rays pierce through floating liquid
Ravishing the sight
Syzygy Mar 2015
Your words stab me
Killing me over and over again.
Why do I still give in?
Why do I still love you?

Do you love me?
Sure you do.
I'm lying, aren't I?
No, I'm not.
Of course not.

All those nights alone
don't mean a thing.
All those beer bottles
In the refrigerator
That are gone the next morning
Are worthless.
I have nothing to worry about.

*...I can't lie to myself anymore. It hurts too much.
Syzygy Jan 2015
I long for those days
When we had something to treasure
Outside the sheets.

When we were in love
When "we are in love",
Were we actually?
Are we now?

Even those kisses
And nights full of *******
Feel unrequited.

I ache
For your love
Not your lust,
which is all I've been seeing.
I was inspired by the song "Temporary Bliss" by The Cab.
Syzygy Nov 2015
Don't trust me.
Because you will only end up hurting yourself in the end.
You will see me in everything,
On every park bench we've sat on,
Near every tree we've shared kisses under.
You'll see me in that glint in your eyes
still glassy from crying.
You'll see me in every store we've shopped at,
In every restaurant we've been to.
In every photo of the first summer sunset,
In every movie.

Don't trust me.
Because I will chew you up and leave your heart
I will say I loved you
My voice being your ultimate aphrodisiac.
My lips being just right for yours.
My fingers just fitting into the gap between yours
when we would lay down and look at the stars.

Don't trust me
Just because I trusted you.
Syzygy Dec 2014
I don't want to
Feel this way,
But I just can't.
And I don't know why,
But I can't stop thinking about you.

Do you do the same for me?
Probably not.
Syzygy Jan 2015
So many decisions
Are hard to make.

From saying "yes",
or "no".

From staying you'll stay,
Or that you have to go.

I wish you said "no",
and that you didn't have to go.
Now I'll never see you again.
Ah, the things I think about when I have nothing to think about. A bit ironic, huh...?
Syzygy Jan 2015
I'm too scared to tell you
My feelings for you.
Because if I did,
You'd laugh.
Syzygy Nov 2014
Someone, please help me
I can't seem to find
The light
That's supposed to be at the end of this tunnel.
Is it just a lie?
Is it just a delusion?

It seems quite common
For people
To wish
And hope
For things
That are undeniably
Too far away
To grasp.
Even if it's close,
Oh so close,
It's just a tease
A mirage
And it strays away
Yet again.
Syzygy Nov 2015
Just because you're healthy
doesn't mean you're healthy.
Syzygy Feb 2016
I'm in a constant state of being subtly nervous for no apparent reason.
Syzygy Nov 2015
You were the one thing I didn't want to lose.
The one thing I must never forget.

But see-
This beast had overcome me
as the dementia overcomes you, too.
Syzygy Jan 2016
I can no longer jump over the bar and I'm sorry
I don't know where I'm going with anything and my thoughts are buzzing everywhere
Syzygy Sep 2015
My body feels like it's constantly about to collapse
But somehow I still have the strength to keep going.
Syzygy Jul 2015

When you think nobody's home
To hear you cry yourself to sleep
You don't hear.

When you think that nobody out there loves you,
While that person you've liked down the street dreams about you
You don't feel.

When you use yourself as a canvas
And become ashamed to show your work,
You don't see.

When you send that last text,
Write that last word
With your shaking hands
Trailing behind every letter
You don't know.

That I can see you.
That I can feel you.
That I can hear you.

Because I am you.
The real you.
The beautiful reflection
That you've somehow lost
Through years
Of dirtying your mirror.
Syzygy Jul 2015
Your smile is true
But your words are a lie.
Syzygy May 2015
Don't mind me as I sit here
Hiding what I really want to say to you
And replacing it with what you want me to say.
This isn't directed to anyone in particular, but....
Syzygy Mar 2015
I've accepted it all.
And I'll give in to you.
Only you.
You've become a part of me.
You complete me.

All the risk,
I'll ignore.
It's all worth it for me.

My head is spinning.
These thoughts,
These sins I've committed.
Matter no more.
Only you.

Always you.
Inspired by Ellie Goulding's "Love Me Like You Do"
Syzygy Feb 2015
Is what I wanted to call you
But didn't.
^^^That's why this poem is so late.

-it's not at all because I had no inspiration whatsoever, nuh uh.-
Syzygy Nov 2015
This argument
gone over
countless times,
victimizing ourselves-
separating ourselves
and creating this
unnecessary drift
that soon turns into
unrequited feelings
as the darkness shadows
the light that once existed
in us.

                            "It's you".
"It's me."

It's us
we don't exist
we shan't.

But I suppose that doesn't really matter now
does it?
Syzygy Dec 2014
When one looks out a window
What do they see?
The Sun,

Well, when I look out the window,
I see
Everything is outside,
open to
and hope.

— The End —