Echoes of your voice ring
Feelings I've been keeping
I drank this blue bottle
My heart didn't settle
The laughters we had
They make me feel bad
Tragic are these stories
Our tale didn't exist
I thought I'd be drunk
Just sleep on this bunk
But I couldn't help picturing you
And I couldn't stop thinking of you
Of how you are tonight
I think of you a lot
If you are just alright
'Cause honestly I'm not
I went to your house today
You were not there again
There are things I want to say
Things a phone cannot send
Face me just this time
Don't walk away like you do
Just talk and stay only to
Make me feel alright
I beg you, don't go
I want this to close
There are things I want you to know
How I felt way before the cold
Every single day I hate the fact that I'm alive
I just want someone to be there and hold me when I cry
I feel like an outcast I can sympathize Rosa parks
Being beaten up and left in the ditch to die in the dark
I cry myself to sleep after suicide attempts
To me life is a burden something I want exempt
What is so different between me and you
Sure I made mistakes but that what humans do
No one reached out their hand when I needed their help
All they could ever do was think about themselves
They say don't judge a book by its cover and that is true
It just happens to be that my cover is of me nude
Don't let my death be in vain I'm spreading a message
I'm trying to change society, being a friend is the lesson
In the end of the day we're all still the same
Reflect on your actions and next time use your brain
The cold bite of a winter wind reminds me
of man’s inadequacy—
bereft of fur and thick skin,
he relies on construction of polyesters and nylons,
the use of sheep’s wool and the Earth’s cotton.
Though without claws and venom,
man has his mind to craft the tools,
extensions of himself.
I retreat into a grove of pine
where I sit upon the floor of dry needles,
like an unkempt barbershop.
My hands begin to lose feeling in the frigidity.
They shiver as a shaved animal would.
Funny the areas of hair we have, we tame.
We control it.
Control is all we’re trying to get.
Control the cold, control the weather,
control another, control the world,
control yourself!
Man has extended himself beyond
his own reaches.
Man can no longer control his constructions.
Play God he has, but is he not God?
It seems the Devil for many.
The Devil has run rampant (symbolically, naturally,)
and loving Gods are few.
All of man’s systems are plagued by him.
Watch an infant’s innocence, pure.
As it ages, it spoils—
Whole generations brainwashed!
I’m writing back from isolated islands of ignorance!
What to think? What to think?
Now I remember! I’ve been told what,
and I see this cage.
Now watch it disappear.
Must I always forget
to just watch freedom’s birth once more?
-Ryan K. Fuller
Bump and bop and knock then stop.
It’s a rhythmic beat to reap the sleep
and see what’s been shown, not meet what’s
been known over and over again,
just changing how it flows from pen to pen
or mind to mind.
Just mind the edges and don’t fall off,
but conquer those hedges secluding Truth,
hung aloft up above for all to see,
and perceive Love,
shoved beneath and stomped
under feet, but breathing
and needing our attention,
undivided and whole—
a beckoning to our eternal soul.
-Ryan K. Fuller
The sun may shine within
Her smile
But the moon may shine within
Her eyes.
The sun may reside in
Her heart
But the moon will reside in
Her soul.
The sun and the moon
May share
Her words
But her meaning
Belongs to the stars.