ryan horn

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And as the planet cooks us Like cracked eggs on rusted iron pan The sea will rise to reclaim the planet Melted ice caps are just like Rocket fuel for her  
Eloquence eludes me This is highly unusual Because usually I can be a ferocious faucet of feeling A maximized magnified momentum of meaning Words 
I began to understand what love is   Will I be the right person, even then?   Always knowing what I want, until now   Catch up quickly to stop the bleeding
The sun sets swiftly Too swiftly Hidden from my perch in the rafters I spy a dark haired monster below   3   He sees me too
Taking the baby doll out of my child’s hand I feel a small amount of guilt Her mother’s doll was her favorite But I feel bad letting her think about what can’t happen  
The man in the mirror looks fat and ugly He seems unattractive, repulsive, and rude Thanking God for the glass between us That the broken, stupid, lazy person
I found a shirt of mine That you had worn It smells like your shampoo It smells beautiful   Why do two weeks feel
Fingertips graze my cheekbone Accompanied by the smell of flower petals And nail polish   She grasps, saved by nimble touch
Long sleeves hide delicate fingers And the same hands cover her teeth when she laughs Proudly looking down at my bare arms Because my sweatshirt fits her better than it does me
Good Morning! Put on your happy face It’s freshman year The first time in a brand new place   Open doors and closed windows
I don’t want to write this I can’t write this, not at all You don’t want me to I don’t want me to But you said I could share anything
I’ve been into the deep, dark woods at two in the morning The streets downtown well after the sun has retreated into space
on some nights, she reaches through glass and stabs me straight in the chest the dagger twists and burns with the cold that i know best  
I’ve never been drunk Drunk on alcohol But I’ve been inebriated on the past month   However, I can only lie to myself for so long
How many tests have I failed without even knowing Grades posted on walls that I’ll never see For each action, there is an equal and opposite reaction
Sitting on the floor Making monsters out of mashed potatoes Scoops and heaps of gelatinous misinformation   Spring into life
Look at me Yes, you, with the hair and the eyes And 43 other similar things to me Give me your attention Please   Are you aware of how much
I’ve been told that What goes up must come down That’s especially true of teeth Of smiles into frowns   And if I can’t do anything right
Hey Grandpa   I saw you again today Less than an hour from your home Where you raised my dad And where you left him  
I know that I’m fretful I’ve been told that I worry One foot in my mouth already So the other’s not in a hurry  
My palms tingle, And for a split second I can feel my heart in the palm of my hand I’m uncomfortable And, quite honestly More scared than I should be Only for a split second
Please pull the car over I’m dying I can’t feel   The soft, perfumed fabric On the backside of my calf   Jumping through the windshield
This was going to be about love. I wanted to walk away from this Feeling beautiful and refreshed;   But why, then, does the air smell
Sometimes you look in someone’s eyes And see something you’ve never seen before Maybe it’s a new shade of blue That you never knew existed Or maybe it’s the twinkle
I only half-need poetry Because I know one word And what I’m trying to write about Is that notion of the person referred   To as “pretty”, that’s it
Looking in the rearview mirror It seems like the only place my eyes can focus The dust kicked up obscures my vision I don’t mind it, dry, magic, hocus-pocus  
I’ve worn those shoes before He says, pointing at my bare feet I don’t understand, I’m not wearing shoes But his words are soothing So I keep going  
At what point does being happy hurt?   Is it when the corners of my mouth start to twitch, Having sustained my smile for two hours straight?  
Last night I felt warmth   Dreaming of tight hugs and Kind words rolled into my ears   I regret to inform you That
God bless this mess This holy carcass The post-birth, pre-death Chemically combusting reaction   Protein in and protein out
Good morning to the moon Waking up this young gets old As well as the cold wind From my ceiling I’m not a fan.  
Hey there, it’s you again The glad boy, the bad boy The never-again-will-be Sad boy   Leaning on the glass The clear kind, the fear kind
The last time that I felt powerful Truly, absolutely in control of my fate An ironclad hand grasping the day planner Of all my future choices Was when  
Like a cold-blooded sociopath I stalk through the twilight Approaching my moral And philosophical issues With the logic of a brand new calculus textbook.  
I choose not to believe Not to own my faith Or let my faith own myself   I choose to let my thoughts Wander freely in the wind
Every Tuesday, I want to scream   From the god-forsaken hours of 11:20 to 2:19 I am pushed   Shoved down at a changing rate
Lucifer sits, crammed into an office cubicle His right hoof is quite uncomfortable Jammed up into his desk like when Your hand gets stuck in a Pringle can
When I was about seven Or fifteen years old   Still too young to know That much about anything   I fell off of my bike
On some of my better days I rise before the sun does That darkness, the hopeful kind Cradles me the way that my front yard Holds rainwater for too long.  
About ten minutes ago, you called my phone You had something on your mind A cold, dark night meant to be spent alone And you had something on your mind.  
Wake up! Wake up! Get up and out of your bed In the next five minutes or you are as good as dead Why would you sleep when could be getting ahead
My teeth are custard. They’re soft And can’t cut things But at least they’re sweet.   My sweat is fast. It slides
Last month at this time I would have been able to sleep Unencumbered by what I didn’t want But not wanting doesn’t come cheap   Remember the parking structure
Last week I dreamt of cigarettes And of three sliced apples to keep the doctors away. I don’t need anyone finding out about my addiction
Anxiety Is the rust scraping off of the garage door Whisper-shouting its way up the carpeted stairs to your ears  
Do you remember the first time that we met? I do; it was unforgettable. What about going fishing in the pond behind our house?
clean and polished like a glacier petrified stone shivering on a scale so small it’s hard to figure out why anything matters at all. the microwave squawks like a
I’m shaking I can feel The baby teeth rattle in the back of my skull   Stepping out of the light And far off of the stage
A jagged angle of Brightly lit boulders Shatter against each other Imploding upon impact with The exterior castle wall of the atmosphere.  
A door   Propped open as if on purpose To let the fresh air out of the room   More, more, more teeth The only things bright enough
You’re in a mood, they say Laughing at me from the trees Eyes are squinted all wide Floating where the sky used to be   When it’s late at night, they say
Such sacred geometry creates Transdimensional anxiety, since Emotions are quantum, Becoming finite only when observed. Rage and desire and grief
When I was twelve years old I stopped playing with Legos For some reason They stopped being interesting   When I was sixteen years old
I still don’t know how to start this train of thought The conductor’s on break I’ve had a few thoughts and I wish I hadn’t But they were on sale
TEN toes as he counts them Curling and uncurling As he commands them to move For one of the last times The doctor showed concern
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