I could tell you what I think
But most don't care to listen
I try not to waste my time on people like that
Because why would I?
There are people who will literally **** all of the energy out of you
Treating you like a sponge when you are really a sun
There's no remedy for people like this
And they're everywhere
Hidden predators in a pasture full of succulent prey
Which way did they come from?
We may never know.

I am a bright and burning sun and I radiate positive energy from my core
It extends millions of miles outside of me
I am desirable in that aspect
Fueling the thirst of treacherous thieves who can't survive without me
I am precious in that aspect
And you'd think they'd treat me as so
But greed is greed, a viscious and disgusting monster which only continuously grows stronger
And I cannot save them.

I know what it's like to be brave enough to offer your whole self to the world
Glistening energy and all
Only to have it tarnished and chased after by those whose only desire is to take and to take

I am too much in the same way that I am never enough.

I am always getting taken from.
But I do not cry because I am like this
I am whole and perfect and special no matter how much they try to take from me
For I am constantly filling back up
And burning ever brighter.  

I cry for those who aren't a sun,
But a thunderous black hole.
How they must suffer.
I cry for them because that is the only thing left to do
And at least they won't try to consume these tears of mine too
But yet, I hope to water them as so...
Thinking that maybe, someday, they might bloom into a flower, which eventually transforms into a sun.

But I am a dreamer.
And what's done is done.

By: Evynne Doue

I like this day.
The 17th day, of the 4th month of the year.
I am thinking of you still.
I have been drunk the majority of today,
And that is more or so the truth.

But more the less, I am perfectly okay.
The flight attendant, she noticed my youth,
But she paid for my drink anyway…
I am the only “young one” in this booth.
The middle, it strays emptily.
But I am coming home today…
And I can only hope that I see you soon.
For it is you, who makes me swoon.
If only I could see you…tonight, or any day as soon.

You do not respond, to my dismay.
Here I am, upon the plane.
It is you who makes me sane.
For I’d rather write of you,
Than wait for you to…
Respond to my text of so excitement.
For it is only you who creates incitement.

I stole the crackers and the peanuts from him beside me
He hasn’t awoken, however, I wonder if he would blame me.
Asleep, asleep, sweet dreams does he keep.
And then there’s me, who won’t dare fall asleep.
For I will,
Keep writing poems…
Until I desperately reek of raw &
True emotions.
Until I know that you are mine to keep,
However, until then, your love will continue to move oceans.

From me to yours,
What more could I ask?
This is far more than a love fueled by mere task
Of me and yours and our love combined too…bliss is bliss
And I love you,
I do.

By: Evynne Doue

Imagine an idea
That is screaming and golden
Growing special
Each day

The weight of my existence was harder to handle
A clean grace that remained
Through the night
I started to run for some reason
And the sensation was strange
But no one noticed
I closed my eyes
And painted the canvas that sits
On the backs of my eyelids
With bright hues
Of all of my favorite colors
Swirls of red, blue, pink, yellow, purple and green
The colors are calming and only
Propel me forward
Now the streets are changing colors
And my breath is getting heavier

In the middle,
The streets become wider
Turning in circles
And I want to blame
Someone
Or something
But I am done being bitter
And beating myself up all the time
I am smiling now
At all of the beautiful and colorful things
Manifesting right in front of my eyes

There is a ***** bliss
And my mind is more attentive
I do not feel as though I need to continue searching,
Letting all of the aching wondering swirl up and around me
Invading my pure and unconscious thoughts
Making me feel like an evil little mess
And then I remind myself that I am my own worst critic

There are frequent,
But completely unknown,
Voices that exist inside of my thoughts
They're not always nice to each other either
They all talk at the same time
And it gets really confusing
They're rarely quiet
But when they are,
The hollowness is not comfortable

As I run,
The voices seem to be talking faster and louder
And I want it all to stop

It feels like my loneliness is spurting out of me in colorful hues like warm gurgling blood  
And I belong to a precious experience
Possessing a knowledge and a passion that was released into my innocence as a youth
Now that my innocence has diminished,
The passion and the knowledge have changed shape
But they are more prominent
Stronger and more powerful than ever before

There are flames on the mountaintops as I stand below them
A stranger laughs and the sunshine glints perfectly atop my twisted and stained fingertips
My wounds have been shed
The rage that was once poison has transformed
Despite the depths of the secret monster that lives inside of me
Hanging despair up by clothespins
I know that the void is fading

Tender wisdom as the greatest killing machine and strings like puppets with no imagination
Respect as a season
That is stuck and stained
Higher
Reaching the horizon
Understanding the changing stream of colors and voices alike

Courage as thunder
Rough weather,
But a beautiful outcome
Kissing the smoothing madness
That swims inside of me daily
Travelling strangers repeating humanity
The mystery is painful
The company is invisible
She'll perfectly fade and disappear and though you will be sad,
You must not forget that it will all be beautiful
And perfect

The ****** ancient curse
And the hidden nasty beast
Have conversations that rhyme
But the gods shine down speaking infinitely
Begging for me to destroy the shell
And fill the holes
Brush off the dirt
And swallow the moonlight

Delicate fields of flying pink petals surround me
The chaos is twice as intense
But never forget that one must
Have chaos burning within them
To give birth to a shining star

By: Evynne Doue

Perhaps tomorrow will be the day that
The flowers will finally bloom
War is never easy
The pieces never smell the way they look
Forgotten wings in the game
Become shadows
And near the wall is where all of the goodbyes are said
Everything is dying
But the crying will eventually pass
Or so, that is all we can hope for
To dust off the past
And never forget that the idea of heaven was born from a desire to never be forgotten
Fear, a catalyst, among other things
Is a push and a pull
Heavy in control
Forever standing in the shadows

By: Evynne Doue

As I bleed this apparent madness
My fingers float lightly on the surface
It's a lot like shards of broken glass
Being thrown at me in random directions and at random intervals
Dealing with this profound, physical and mental ailment
Considering faster and faster which method of action
Will finally be the chess move that determines my demise

Faster darling, what will it take?
The chase tells me to forgive,
To give in to these seemingly "peaceful" desires
That are really more like permanent containments

But I lock it all away,
Trying to avoid the relentless tugging that tells me I shouldn't have to live a life like this
And how is that not counterintuitive, I ask myself?
I am passionate, genuine, and capable,
Is this tugging only temporary?
Perhaps it is residing in an incubator full of vast magnificence

The healing, the healed, the puddles of a lifetime

Entities possessing faulty perspectives
Ultimately revealed through the escaping of some previously immersed ideal
You can twist the **** and discover a newborn adult
Residing in this oddly frightening dimension

Surfaces are frequently misunderstood
They reside within varying intents, across multiple different slates
In this effortless actuality
Emitting a breathtakingly amount of moments
That mesh together into
One wild thing

I tell myself that simpler days will come
That this never-ending cycle will get easier
That the best moments will find me and swallow me whole

Breathing, dying, taking steps towards one or the other
I keep forgetting that my anger shattered my sense of hope
And these friendly pieces of tattered poems I keep finding in between my fingers are nothing more than my lungs swallowing destruction

I bite my tongue again and again
And it never stops bleeding
The taste of metal ever-present
And still, no matter how much I feel like dying,
My lungs continue to fill with air and my heart continues to pump blood and oxygen throughout my entire body

When I drink, it worsens.
I just sit there and expect things to get bad,
To get worse than they already were
Destruction waits around every corner,
In every moment
And most times, I will let it in with open arms and swollen eyes
The tighter this thing wraps around me internally, the less careful I am with my heart
I will just sit and watch these emotions create sharp tunes that are guaranteed to become buried worth

I meant to write more letters
And I am sorry for letting my fear of the future get between us
But I am left wondering if that even means anything.

I apologize for letting the weight of my illness creep in to every facet of my life
And I am sorry that the older I get, the harder this gets and the more relevant my illness becomes

Sometimes I imagine my aura reeks of blood
Wondering how anyone could ever fully love someone like me
A red glow that appears to be calm and gentle
But is really thick and thunderous and difficult to love.

Am I a song that bursts open in the darkest of times,
Or am I a clock that seems to always be displaying the incorrect time?

I am told that things will "get better"
That it will all be "okay"
By those who have never really known what it feels like to hurt in this way
To possess this type of pain
Especially, when the deepest and darkest part of me glorifies loneliness
This thing, and the pain that goes along with it,
Is really only a product of its environment
And, well, doesn’t that make you want to question everything?

By: Evynne Doue

Passion,
Born from warmth
Fueled by the ****
It needs your flesh
Screaming souls
Slowing emotions
Let's form smiles,
Not scars

Just because you cannot return does not mean that the answer is still hidden
Dancing freedom began upon the palm of your hand
Where you stood in a blind whisper
Written veins reign closer and closer
The amateur is defeated
And a purer spirit exists
Only to be later faced
By an all-consuming entity

But when nature embraces the storm,
Strength is gained
And the stars cry out
Seeing sadness as only a
Symptom

By: Evynne Doue

My happiness was so thick, I could almost taste it
(Or so I thought)

I am thinking about love and how it is basically just happiness and more words and feelings set on fire

You make my heart feel like it is jumping off of the golden gate bridge
And each time it happens,
A small part of me emits a small warning:
"You'd think it'd had learned its lesson by now…
Beware: you will also drown in this same feeling."

You make my heart feel like it is falling off of the tallest skyscraper in Manhattan
But now, it twinges a little just before
A small surge of doubt and caution and everything in between
Zips through me
And before I feel all of the adrenaline, all of the good that comes along with it,
There's this tiny little moment that is full of a dull and aching pain
But especially when you say things that feel like peeling skin back
And it bleeding
When you say things that sound a lot like a dusty record
That skips a lot
Things that feel and sound a lot like black holes and hospital waiting rooms
And so, I ask myself,
Again and again,
When did love become the same thing as pain?

By: Evynne Doue

Hearts are broken
And the love has sunk
When did everything get so ****** up?

The world is coming down
Down, down, down
Falling down
Turning to dust and ashes

The world is coming down
But the walls are going up
Up, up, up

Nobody can break through
Anymore

By: Evynne Doue