Poem: I Hope

I hope every time

you think of me.

You feel the lurch.

Guilt of what you did.

The truth we share

memory of your misdeeds.

You called me friend.

Now we are nothing at all

but memories.

By Silvaan Ruth

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Chapbook: More Than What You See poems of dyslexia


Love/Betrayal/Anything Else


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To My Aquarius

“Why did you have to ask me that question?”
I asked before I held you tighter than ever as
I repeat through my sobbing that I,
don’t want to have this conversation.

I don’t want to say, that despite
the doubt eating away at my heart
I still love you with every fiber of my being.

I don’t want to add myself to the chain
of girls that have called
you friend instead of lover.

Because I want you to be my lover.
I want to love you and keep you
always to myself forever.

I am not leaving because you’re too sweet,
or too kind, or too good for me.
And you are certainly nothing
like my brother.
I want to keep you
for all of those reasons.

I am leaving because
there are things I want
that you can not give me.

I need to grow a maturity that I
feel this relationship
can not give me,
I want a man with a streak of SandM
and a sunnier disposition
and a passion
that only mine can tame.

I can’t stand the thought of what
you will do when I tell you,
nor do I want to see
Tears in your eyes and
me the reason for them.

You try to pull away and I hold you tighter.
For I don’t want this moment to end.
Because the second I let go.
Everything will change.

So, please stop asking me why I cry cause in
me is a wanting for it all to go away.
Just as much as I, don’t want to have
this conversation.


Healing emotional trauma/shift in the mind

shift in the mind
to love myself
no fantasies of another that does
and doesn’t exist.
I let it go.
what do I need
to feel good
inside and out
food, water
self love
that fills me up
and strengthens
my spine
warm fuzzy cement
what a little
shift will do


Article listing 11 Habits of People with Concealed Depression

This brought tears to my eyes at the end.


Unedited: Gluttony

I look down at my plate, having eaten all I took from you.
You, that lay before me on a silver platter.
I survey you. For more is what I desire.
I’d ask for more, but you deny me.
I’d steal more, but you catch me.

But I want you to fill me up and over flow
My plate with your flesh and bone in side me.
I fear it will not be enough and
One day, I’ll reach for a platter vacant of you.