Chloe Ryan: Poetry

| Living Portrait | For Myself | Submission to Reality (My Tribute to Insomnia) | Imagery |

| Buy Chloe Ryan's Book "Leaving Yesterday" | Contact: email |

Living Portrait

Remember the night you loved me
My back to the wall
Hung like a piece
Of some obscure artwork
In the hallway
Of your campus house
You weren't a student
But I learned
About myself
Giving over to your whispers
Swaying grass
And the Indiana summer's
Cornfield fresh breeze
Through the open window
I didn't care
If sin lived there
As I pressed against
Your walls
Pressed my walls
Loving every tap
That held me there
Who needs the Mona Lisa

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For Myself

Slide down
The length of me
Once more
That I might know
It's good to stay
Planted seeds
Grow something
When not constantly
Uprooted and
Who knows what
Might have happened
If I loved myself enough
Not to need to keep proving
I still possess
This mysterious "it"
My ego brush-stroked
Again and again
"You are beautiful"
"You are passionate"
I am the tormented
Darkness that is weary
Of being caged
And still I am locked
In fear
That I never will be
New was never
Most beautiful
It has always been
The easiest fix
Illustrious; quick
Once more
"This is forever"
Whispering in my glass
Fluted; breaking
That is buckling
Under the weight
Of all the
And then springing again
Green and new
I loved them all
The places; blurring faces
Of the masses
Crowding me further
In to my loneliness
"Don't go"
But I always do
Dashing the forty
Seconds- flat
And empty
Promising myself
That next time
It will be different
Knowing I will
Be the same
Sliding down
The length of
Just one day
That never ends

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Submission to Reality (My Tribute to Insomnia)

It is the plague of thought
and I can't catch my breath
or shake this fucking quake
of what people want from me
What I beat out of myself

And I am so tired of crazy
So damned tired
and I still can't sleep
Spinning in to the oblivion
of grinding it all out
and trying to make sense
when it's all nonsense

And thinking all the happy people
are just faking it
Posers trying to get envied
enough to conjure up self worth

And I might be the only one
who is not lying to myself
with the scapegoat mind-fuck
of tomorrow will be differents

Why does it matter when
my eyes shut and I still see the room
beating through my black lids
and begging for sleep to come
but it never does

Just the constant clanking of life wheels
Hoping to hell they'll rust and seize
But fate is a nasty bitch
with an oil can
and I am slipping deeper
in to myself

Pretty soon I'll be so far in
that nobody will be able to find me
Night to day tonight
and still, no peace

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Moments when I turned to encasement
Of such depths of sheer delight
I revel in your passion charged
Curse to haunt my nights
Cavern of such folly
Lake at floor begs, "dive on in"
I strike my head on rock reality
And slither in to sin
You captivate consumption
Recycling all my heat
Flying sparks and friction burns
Breathless as we meet
Suffocating in your contour
Flinging in to able grip
Pulse on chest-breath tangled limbs
Flowing hair; slick groove of hips
So much longing

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