Rya Ray







The sun sets
and reminds me
yet again
of the
truest fears
and of the
truest loves.

Before sunset.

28 JAN AT 21:42

Nothing fits
my emptiness
your emptiness.


27 JAN AT 20:50

Maybe we are all
looking for 
a love that 
runs to us
quicker than 
we can push it away.

Relative velocity.

8 JAN AT 23:34

When I wake up,
for the first few seconds,
the world hasn't kicked in
and your thoughts tiptoe
at the edge this universe
and another where
we end up together and
wake up next to each other
holding hands with entangled feet.
When I wake up,
for the first few seconds,
we've not been schooled
to not love each other.
When I wake up,
for the first few seconds,
you're mine.

Good morning?

1 FEB AT 7:33

Trouble is
we've been crushed
way too long
with love for someone
who has been crushed
way too long
with love for someone
who couldn't love them back,
and there's so much deficit
by the end of it
that the first thing
we teach ourselves
is to free
our hands and hearts
from another's
hands and hearts
the very moment
they begin feeling
like home.

Nested loops?

5 FEB AT 23:00

After all,
God has always been
and with trembling hands
has poured out
love into glasses
for two
but never poured out
the same
in both.
One less.
One more.
One hopeful.
One guarded. 
One for you.
One for me. 

Cutting chai.

15 JAN AT 10:16

I wish
I could 
turn back time
to meet all
the lovers you've had
and tell them
to not break
you like they have
so that when 
today I'd look
into your eyes,
I'd find
more capable of
loving me back.

Time Turner.

25 JAN AT 19:15

I think
the most
horrifying and
thing is
how we'll
never know
what we'd
have become
if we took
the other road,
scored above
the cutoff,
applied for 
the other job
and loved
the other person.

The road not taken.

12 FEB AT 21:33

You're forest fire, baby.
You're burning me down by the acre.
A while back you were
grazing near my lips,
and suddenly now you're
in the burning of my toes.
You feed off the breaths I heave
as you scorch through my insides.
Silence stokes our soul.
I feel younger, yet 'us' feels old.
Like a phoenix, you rise from my ashes.
Like a dry autumn leaf, I fall
and crumble on your merciless palms.
Your hands chart journeys deftly.
And my body reaches destinations.
We, are evidence why
fire is good for the soil.
I shrivel at the edges, like a paper
teased by a flame.
I mutter prayers whilst I burn,
waiting for my next turn.
You're forest fire, baby.
And I'm not putting you out.
Hell no.

Forest Fire.

13 FEB AT 8:11

I will arrive
some day
at your doorstep
and out of breath
not because you
made me sad
but because you 
made me feel
anything at all
when all hope
was spent
and my conscience
were empty.
That day
I will wait 
for you
to open the door
and say
'Thank you',
But today
I'll draw the curtains
and stay quiet.

Thank you.

28 JAN AT 11:38