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Ryder McEntyre Aug 2016
raptures of months + delicate
cloth wrappings, glancing at a
pattern lit by soft plastic blinds
letting the light in, like smoke
through gutterless roof rainfall

I’m drinking & it’s daylight dew;
as permanent as inked paper,
a stained-glass rorschach:
standing for intensity,
interpreted as love,
absolved as growth

we’ve been here before, you,
the me i see when alone, and
i, the we i feel when you lay bare,
and we will be here again, oh luck.
the monsters are so kind
as they offer you a life
you take what you can get
and leave your pain behind

better hide behind the curtains
the sun is shining and it burns
they’d see all the dark stains
covering your arms

don’t leave your house
pray they won’t figure out
you’re playing cat and mouse
with the demons beside you

what would they think
they wouldn’t understand
thoughts flow like ink
inside your messed up head

holed up in your room
it’s a world they can’t see
if you didn’t look like doom
they’d let you be
i didn’t do it
      - and the skies didn’t shake
        and the ground didn’t break
        the whole world is still awake
so i realized
      - you can ask anything, you see,
        you can take what i give for free
        you can be who you want to be
but what I answer
and what I give
and what I am
are all still up to me
Ceeam Jul 2016
Everyone needs a cigarette,
Not literally, I mean it as a metaphor,
Something for this little stress threat,
Inside the upper core.

Why do people actually,
Wanna avoid stress all the time.
Wouldn't it be more logical,
If we would accept it all?

Live with the voices screaming,
The hearbeat rising,
The ugly dreaming,
And inner fighting.

I guess not...

People have been searching,
For relaxation through history,
A herb, a massage, a magic thing,
First an experience, later almost compulsary.

I'm still figuring out,
The balance between accepting and interventions,
To live healthy, pure and happy,
But without too much tensions.

Exploring these things,
Is actually a lot of fun.
Sometimes it gives me wings,
Other times i just hold on.

In search, but with a smile, this can last a while, just accept my style
Ceeam Jul 2016
Biodiversity, an abstract term used in natural science,
Meaning diversity of life in a diversity of places.
Tonight I really feel all the compliance,
With this term occuring in my life in so many cases.

I have both positive and negative associations,
If I relate biodiversity to my own life.
It kind of explains all the complications,
On the road to when and where I thrive.

When I look at myself in the mirror,
I see the diversity in my face.
Both soft like a mother and severe like an emperor,
And my hair looks like it's from another race.

It is curly and it is dark,
While my skin is quite pale.
Blue eyes which sometimes brightly spark,
But other times greyish and frail.

Some moments I feel hyper,
like I'm going to explode.
I talk, walk, jump and stir,
and my brain says 'overload'.

Other moments however I feel calm and peace,
I lay down just quietly watch the sun.
Concentrated on every breath I release,
A warm ambiance like that of a mum.

Some mornings I feel like I'm the sexiest ******* the planet,
I take a red dress and let it slip over my hips.
Walk on 15 cm heels like my feet are made of granite,
And merely hope to use my red coated lips.

Other times even my jogging pants don't seem to fit,
I feel like the uggliest girl in town and only see disgust.
I watch useless YouTube videos infinite,
Because everything else feels like a must.

I can go on with this poem for a long time,
But it makes no sense.
It is just that with this rhyme,
I put on paper the doubts, thoughts and experience.

The biodiversity in me,
I like it and I do not.
But what I more and more see,
Is a swarm of different butterflies rather than an intwined knot.

Life is so **** special,
Intense and deeply exciting.
I think it is crucial,
Not to do too much hiding.

Enjoy the biodiversity in yourself,
Like a beautiful forest on a hill.
So many different species,
Crowded, changing and intertwined, but together, still.
Alaska Jul 2016
I still remember
the look in your eyes
when I was standing
in front of the building
crying and shaking
you came down the stairs
asking what happened
you opened the door
not letting me out of your view
together we climbed the stairs
and when we were inside
i saw that you cried
in your room
when you were alone
and suddenly i knew
nobody's perfect
*- therapists can have therapists too
you’re still here
your clothes are still in the closet
your ***** dishes in the sink
but your mind isn’t near
it’s living in a parallel world
with its monsters for company
i speak but you can’t hear
some other voices fill your head
and you listen to them instead
i reach out but it’s clear
it’s hard to drag you back
from that place you have imagined
where perhaps you want to stay
why return to all this fear
when you’ve got a better place
somewhere where you can heal
without all the disgrace
your face is blank, your eyes don’t shine
you look at me but you see through
yes, your body is still here,
but not you
This book you opened
That you now refuse to read
Was once what you wanted
And now what you need

Swift are your fingers
As they move through the pages
But the feeling that lingers
One you haven’t felt in ages

Don’t close the book
For once, follow through
Take yet another look
They’re counting on you

The key to recovery
And everything that matters
A journey of self discovery
Hidden in those letters
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