Raena Cain - Tumblr Posts
After being left for the crows to pick at my hollowed bones, I had that irrational hope that maybe you could shoo them away long enough for me to build myself up with wires and poetry.
Fool's Gold
Little did I know that I would hurt you too, that you would blame yourself for our downfall when it was only the fault of my quicksilver tongue.
Fool's Gold
Still, I wait with hope lacing my limbs to these phantom hands controlling me.
My heart will flutter its wings in the cage of my bones in hope that you can remove the concrete block sinking it into the sea of my misery.
Graffiti Wall
Sometimes, the only way to recover the grains of your being is to collect what little of you there is left, celebrate their small existence on golden pedestals meant for long-forgotten gods.
Four Odes
The echo of her laughter can still be heard in the auditorium of my skeleton as her ghost runs through after the memory of a future she was so desperate to reach.
Four Odes
The music she used to listen to still sometimes screams in my ears, the upbeat tempo harboring the pain of loneliness, buried six feet under the pain of blood covered wrists and scarves tied like nooses around pale throats.
Four Odes
Her hands might’ve been stained red from the number of times she had torn her heart from her chest, but there was no flower that bloomed across her shirt to show her crimes to the world.
She could tap a tune against her ribcage, but she ate it up like the dinner she had pushed aside, thriving on the hope that a pen or her voice could give her for the truth.
Four Odes
Loving you and being in love with you are different, though.
It’s the difference between daylight and a perfect sunset on that soft day that we held hands, kissed under the banner of our relationship, the title branding us both with a hot poker.
Daisies and Lemonade
I know that my lies are turning my honey sweet charms into lemonade without sugar, too sour to bother to let it slide down into the hollow pit of your stomach.
All I can hope to do it force down molasses to ease the burning acid that my dishonesty had fed you.
I should’ve taste tested before I built my stand.
Daisies and Lemonade
Daisies and Lemonade
I planted daisies in my throat every time I breathed out your name.
That’s what I would say if I were in love with you enough for it to be true.
I don’t lie when I say I that I love you, and the words are not bitter poison on my tongue.
Loving you and being in love with you are different, though.
It’s the difference between daylight and a perfect sunset on that soft day that we held hands, kissed under the banner of our relationship, the title branding us both with a hot poker.
Yes, I loved you.
You were my closest friend, someone I would never want to lose, close enough to my heart that it would be pulling a splinter from a child’s palm if I were to walk away.
Sadly, though, the entirety of my being was still focused on the thought of being with him, the distant lover I’d yet to take.
I’d known him for longer than anyone else and loved him for so much of that time.
I was in too deep with him to ever want to risk losing him, too.
You were the one who I kissed so desperately while I imagined it was him running flint hands over the tinder of my skin.
I might’ve snuggled into the blanket of your arms, content for that span of infinite time, but my eyes were closed against your face to only see his.
My quicksilver tongue was almost my ruin too many times, knowing that if I spoke to him about how I felt, it would come crashing down like the waves upon Atlantis, swallowing me down until I was too deep to come up and greedily suck in air.
The most horrible act I’ve done is play with you.
I know that my lies are turning my honey sweet charms into lemonade without sugar, too sour to bother to let it slide down into the hollow pit of your stomach.
All I can hope to do it force down molasses to ease the burning acid that my dishonesty had fed you.
I should’ve taste tested before I built my stand.