I only became a storm, to try to extinguish your flames.
you set my world on fire in a way that exploded mediocracy. in such a way that burned every inch of me to pieces in your departure. I’ve never known a love that took parts of me with it once it was gone, parts scorched with no chance of recovery.
abandonment, allison ryder, allison ryder quotes, artist, broken, change, choices, commitment, emotion, feelings, heart, heartbreak, hurt, identity, life, loss, love, lust, mistakes, pain, perception, perspective, poet, poetry, quotes, relationships, thoughts, truth, words, writer, writing
we sat for awhile and pondered the wreckage of the soul. we dove into the broken hearted and what makes us make the tedious decisions leading into failure and pain. we reflected on how we got to the position we now stood, surrounded by lust and yet feeling alone, trying to block out the noise and running into abandonment to avoid commitment. it’s a slippery slope, the road of broken hearts, once you go down, it’s difficult to trust the hands trying to get you back up.
allison ryder, allison ryder quotes, art, artist, author, beginning, broken, chances, choices, courage, darkness, death, emotion, experience, fear, feelings, growth, happiness, heart, heartache, heartbreak, hurt, identity, impact, intimacy, judgment, lies, life, loss, love, lust, metaphor, mistakes, moments, pain, passion, past, perspective, poet, poetry, punk ished, relationships, silence, spilledink, strength, thoughts, time, touch, trust, truth, try, value, words, writer, writing
Visit my storefront today to purchase your copy of my second published collection of poetry. As fantasy clashes with reality, this book takes you on an intricate and emotional rollercoaster of love and tragedy, lust and heartbreak, with subject matter all ages can relate to.
i never realized that you emotionally tortured me to the point where the only light i had was a dim shadow absorbed by dancing silhouettes. i made an epic love story, a captivating ballad out of your treacherous symphony. i do that sometimes. see the beauty in scars to override the ugly acts that carved them.
i never realized that you emotionally tortured me to the point where the only light i had was a dim shadow absorbed by dancing silhouettes. i made an epic love story ballad out of your treacherous symphony. i do that sometimes. see the beauty in scars to override the ugly acts that carved them.
do you not want to?
how easy. how simple. and yet i cowar. what do i want? i don’t know what i want anymore. my right to choose has been sucked from me, much like my soul. i’ve given so much. so much love. so much tears. so much money. so much time. so many years of my life. to so many different people and to some the same, too many times. i broke in hurt and each time, a piece of me broke off and was left behind. i wanted to leave parts of me with each person, all people i’ve touched in some positive way. instead i allowed them to touch me with dirty hands, taint me, hurt me, break me. and now i do not know myself. i feel suffocated and controlled. i feel anger with words of profanity before love. i feel inhabited by a stranger i detest.
i guess i’ve grown tired by unrequited love. i’ve grown tired of the pains that can be controlled. so i’ve controlled a safe distance. i find doubt in myself where there was once trust and clarity. i never struggled with my identity. i always knew who i was and who i wanted to be and now i don’t know. but i know i’d rather my lips fall silent than speak anymore ill words, anymore bursts of profanity, or words of anger and hate. i’d rather fall silent and crawl in a ball and break than be touched by hands i want to walk through life with, who only tear me down.
i don’t want to hear the phone ring tonight or the sound of voices. driving through reflective streetlights and the world is a haze. i am not present. i am simply breathing. i am not happy. i am full of empty holes seeking redemption. i’ve asked other people what they thought more than i’ve made my own choices, seeking approval, seeking forgiveness, seeking completion. but all i’ve done is lose myself in what everyone else thinks and wants and asks of me. my fear is greater than the importance of my desires but now i don’t know who i am. and i fear that more than saying no, more than deciding, more than loss that is not death.
i have not felt this serene in.. well.. i cannot remember. walking outside in the rain, in shorts, with my hair wet. it’s the first time i feel like me. it’s the first time i feel beautiful.
something stopped me tonight. something came over me. something changed. and it washed through every fiber of my being. palpitations disguised as anxiety but i didn’t push it out. i accepted it. i embraced it. i stayed silent and let it run its course through my body. and tonight, for the first time, i smiled and you know what, i was alone. and that is everything.
the road to recovery. such a mediocre and over used term. if you’re a recovering alcoholic, you’re on the road to recovery. if you’re addicted to drugs, you’re on the road to recovery. if you’re suffering from depression or anxiety, you’re on the road to recovery. if you’re broken hearted, you’re on the road to recovery.
but if you’re grieving, there is no road to recovery. there is no recovery at the end of that hall. if you are grieving the loss of a loved one, that pain is everlasting. it plagues us until our own demise. it is not a circumstance. it is a finality. death is THE circumstance. you do not travel through the steps of grief and one day, be like you were before. you are forever touched by death, by heartache, by regret, by guilt.
the road to recovery, to moving on, and moving forward. it’s a terrible phrase for a memorial. for as long as we are touched by their life, their love, we will be moved by their loss. it becomes a part of us. grief. it’s like the air we breathe. the storm clouds that roll in. it’s constant, though we may not succumb to it constantly. there’s no road. it’s just our life, and learning to co exist with grief. to accept that death exists and what it has taken from us. to be angry with it, to blame it, to fight it, to hate it.
the road to recovery is a pretense. a poor choice of words. how do you recover from the loss of a life you loved more than life. how dare the word recover even be in the midst of anyone’s sentence, when regarding grief and loss and death. i will forever suffer in silence and in deafening screams. i will consider in the weight of my heart for the love and remembrance of the man who gave me life. for my father.
i scratched at the darknessto try and find light
but the darkness scratched back,
it tore skin.
searching for phantoms
of a past life.
an unknown life.
pain in the ass,
too emotional, let it go,
jealous, worry too much,
think too much-
they defined them as help,
assistance in acknowledgment.
blood soaked compliments.
i stopped scratching at the darkness
and set it aflame.
you stay stuck in yesterday.
try to find me there.
light the way.