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ryn Oct 7
Cut me loose

     from these strings

          that bind.


So I might again

     exercise the freedom

          of mind.
ryn Oct 5
Chronicle these breaths.
And lay them naked
on paper - for the world
to see and judge,
like you know you should.

Dissect them...
With the sharpness
of your scalpel-like thoughts,
like you always would.

Fall in love with them.
Tag them with unspoken words
all too familiar.
Then cast them unto me...
When you finally know you could.
ryn Oct 3
I am but a stone
just skipping across a body of still.
I get a taste
yet never fully drenched.
Not until I lose all momentum
and mobility - I sink.

Submerge...

And then drown.
ryn Sep 13
A vessel set sail.
In the early call of day.
She lurched and bobbed,
as she moved across the bay.

From bow to stern
acknowledged by the morning light.
Her dew stained deck
- proof of restful slumber in the night.

With the earth’s fresh breath,
its majestic sail bloated full.
Her mast spoke in creaks
as wind and current made its pull.

A lone seafarer stood motionless.
His eyes squinted in the sun.
Deft hands on the wheel
as they steer and run.

Just out of the cove,
she’s now far off and seemingly small.
A silhouette about to disappear,
I await its return, when the sun begins to fall.
ryn Sep 12
Walk,
as far as these feet will take me.
Moving with deliberateness,
laden with calculated purpose.

And knowing that every time each foot
successfully meets the earth,
I would always be somewhere new.

Each step would feel perhaps
unfamiliar ground,
shed new light, see fresh faces
and experience different days.

As long as I stay loyal to the course...

Always moving...
Walking,

into the sun.
ryn Aug 3
The exhale is a relief
as the heart in my ear
slips subtly away;
back into the emptiness
in the dark.

So again I fill my chest.
And I’d fill it full.
Again and again.
Until then comes
a deathlike sleep.
ryn Aug 2
The words weren’t daggers.
Weren’t meant to ****.

They were spindly,
like needles.
But barbed.
So they latch.

I’m not grievously wounded.
Yet I’m still bleeding out...
ryn Aug 29
Force not,
the coming of the ink.

Judge not,
what you feel and think.

•••

Then put nib to paper
and make your mark.

Let what flows
be brazen and stark.
ryn Sep 2
Open mind

but closed doors.

Take my breath.

And make it yours.
ryn Aug 2
Open doorway
and there you stand, backlit.
Only feet away
yet too many steps too far.

A heavy veil of shadow
draped over your face.
Stand there, forever,
as I try to discern who you are.
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