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"ronan" poems
The smell of dirt envelopes me as i run down the street and turn the corner. Sliding down the wet pavement i feel my bare feet rub raw. i can taste blood from biting the insides of my cheeks, maybe even my tongue. i finally escaped after so long. In the distance i hear a dead girls name being called. They dont really care i tell myself. If they did they would be calling a different name. Mine. Its only a matter of time once the cops come, searching for a girl they will never find. A girl who doesn’t exist. Once upon a time there was a little boy. He lived inside of a girls body, hiding under layers of soft, silky skin. Under an itchy dress with sparkling gold thread that chafed his chest as he moved, leaving rashes across his sensitive shoulders. Despite being pressed into the mold of a young girl, he managed to survive. His long hair tumbling down his shoulders, in sheets of brown that shined with honey in the sun. His eyelashes were long. His eyes were dewey. Freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and small freckles on his arm. His mother called them angel kisses. That boy was me. In first grade he got his hair cut short. His parents warned him that people might think he was a boy. That was okay. It stayed that way until 4th grade. His hair was in a short bob, shaved on the side. His neighbors called him a **** One of them bullied him so he poured the kids sprite down his face. The bully stomped on the boys toe and he bled. That was okay. In 6th grade, he told his best friend a secret. He wasn’t a girl. His best friend called him handsome. She was the perfect friend. Now the girl doesn’t exist. Her parents pretend she does. She has been gone for a long time. She is dead. Her parents know that she is gone, but they think if they pretend enough, that she will come back, that if i am denied love and support i will eventually waste away into oblivion, and she will come back. i’m still running, but now i yell out too. i am here. i am real. I am Ronan
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Feb 24, 2020
Feb 24, 2020 at 12:44 AM UTC
I will be okay
The smell of dirt envelopes me as i run down the street and turn the corner. Sliding down the wet pavement i feel my bare feet rub raw. i can taste blood from biting the insides of my cheeks, maybe even my tongue. i finally escaped after so long. In the distance i hear a dead girls name being called. They dont really care i tell myself. If they did they would be calling a different name. Mine. Its only a matter of time once the cops come, searching for a girl they will never find. A girl who doesn’t exist. Once upon a time there was a little boy. He lived inside of a girls body, hiding under layers of soft, silky skin. Under an itchy dress with sparkling gold thread that chafed his chest as he moved, leaving rashes across his sensitive shoulders. Despite being pressed into the mold of a young girl, he managed to survive. His long hair tumbling down his shoulders, in sheets of brown that shined with honey in the sun. His eyelashes were long. His eyes were dewey. Freckles sprinkled across his cheeks and small freckles on his arm. His mother called them angel kisses. That boy was me. In first grade he got his hair cut short. His parents warned him that people might think he was a boy. That was okay. It stayed that way until 4th grade. His hair was in a short bob, shaved on the side. His neighbors called him a **** One of them bullied him so he poured the kids sprite down his face. The bully stomped on the boys toe and he bled. That was okay. In 6th grade, he told his best friend a secret. He wasn’t a girl. His best friend called him handsome. She was the perfect friend. Now the girl doesn’t exist. Her parents pretend she does. She has been gone for a long time. She is dead. Her parents know that she is gone, but they think if they pretend enough, that she will come back, that if i am denied love and support i will eventually waste away into oblivion, and she will come back. i’m still running, but now i yell out too. i am here. i am real. I am Ronan
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... Darker than black Newly folded laundry in stack It's 19th of may Everything went astray I've searched beyond invisible lines Reminisce the joy of Valentine's Until it went a little strange Distorted, glitch of change Ten feet stepping on the wooden floor Sneak in silence from backdoor My mom's tulips still fresh on the table My dad's toolbox now disabled Visitors are kinda too funny They have unique way of greeting my family I noticed they had many luggage in them I wonder how they come here without a car then Tonight, the cold wind blows Colder than a frozen rose I missed the oven-fresh pie Mom's apron is now red-dyed Ronan loves watching tom and jerry Today he watched live episode of same story I run to him like how we play with our husky But I tripped off and spill the glass of rye whisky They help me to clean the mess All I wanna do now is rest I drained my energy playing The game where I know I'm not winning The guests are now leaving with smiles Their boots stained linings of tiles I couldn't wave goodbye I'm too busy to give a sigh It's cold here behind yellow light uncomfortable and slightly tight boredom reigns over here still waiting for cops to be seer
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Jan 24, 2018
Jan 24, 2018 at 9:13 AM UTC
Hello Visitors
The need for you burns my skin The need to see you again draws me I come to you, but alas for naught I come to you, but you're attention escapes You're life book has space for me You have space, but only as a footnote. I have been a gormless man, Ibcome to you but ylwish for another. My oaken refuge has burned to ash, The warm breeze has become icy winds Where has my refuge gone? my safe haven? Where is this Ronan to go now?
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Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 12:23 AM UTC
foolish man
When the spirit of the ancient Korean Princess in her wooden armor comes  through the fog; Jeun-ye comes back to me in Dan Gun's dreams of the hills of the Spirits; | | | Ronan at eternal war with their Shogun Overlords  - -  she burns when she returns to me from Ultima Thule through the stratosphere, into where you & I wonder - --
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Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 2:40 PM UTC
Ultima Thule I