Strawberry seeds – memory

Stuff, Words

Right from the first step outside the grey buildings, when our worn down sneakers landed on the uneven stone stairs, we knew this day called for an adventure. Even if that just meant bikes, strawberries and the blue lake.

The two bikes were parked behind one of the school buildings, and the other two of us climb up on the back. The wind in our hair and the rush from going too fast, makes us laugh and smile freely.

We sit down on the grass, by the sparkling blue, but cold, lake. While throwing the little green tips from the strawberries at each other and in to the water, our smiles grew even brighter.

It was only recently that the sun had started to warm up the ground, and the summer is short, but we all know we will remember this day way after the sun stops shining.

~ J

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Like crazy

Art

I miss you a lot, like crazy

I want to ask you, stay

Show you my scars 

The hole in my heart 

But I cannot (ask)

 
You’re a riddle, still

Figuring out yourself 

I’m just a plain page, unworthy of your time 

I need you, but 

 

You’re not mine anymore 

Belonging to other streetlights, on the river 

Under dazzling eyes, red in the night 

Across an open sea, far (away) 

 

⇝K 

// from the past

Words

Hi. I noticed you, from all the way over here… I vaguely recognise you. But I don’t know you.Not anymore.

Would you be my friend, still? Do you still have that sunshine smile, are you happy enough to laugh and love unconditionally?

I don’t know your face as well, have you lost your summer freckles? Your hair is shorter now, different, right? I don’t know your insecurities, if you still have them, they must’ve changed. Have you changed, too?

I don’t know you. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know you, though.

The light in your eyes resemble something I once wished for, maybe just slightly less bright, there’s a grey shadow in them.

How are you? Are you doing alright?

Do you have nightmares? I have them all the time. But I daydream loads. I hope you do too.

I wish we could meet some day, but I know we won’t. 

Maybe we’re too different. Or maybe, just maybe…. we’re too similar.

~ J

motivational advice to self: what i need to hear

Words

Why sacrifice your sanity, your happiness and your youth for comfort, safety and control?

Leaving behind what does nothing but harm you, is not giving up or running away; it is simply realizing your own worth.

You are never stuck, locked up or forced to stay, you can always choose to start over.

Keep your head up, keep your eyes on your goal, keep your dreams alive. Keep going.

 
~J

relief – poem

Art

naked and cold a lonely night

deep darkness hiding the sin

concealing the poison

head spinning, heart beating, blank mind

this unexpected but awaited escape

one last thought

quickly thinking it through

looking for that ounce of regret

not finding it

and then grabbing the bottle by the neck

bending a fork

liquid relief

naked and cold

relief

 
~J

go!

Words

do you have to go?

i know you have to go.

i have to go.

but do you, really?

you have to go now.

i have to go now.

i have to leave.

do you really have to leave?

you will miss your train.

i will miss my train.

go, now.

leave.

i wish i could stay.

me too.

don’t miss your train.

(please miss your train)

i don’t want to miss my train.

(i really want to miss my train)

go.

stay.

please stay.

i’ll stay.

you can’t stay.

i can’t stay.

i love you.

i love you too.

go!

 
~ J

art portfolio

Art, Words

We write our stories on crinkled coffee shop napkins, with cheap jet black eyeliner. Rough at the edges, smudged lines; fairytales but with tragic endings and without sparkling bliss.

Rays of sun through glass windows compete with our clouded minds and rainy eyes. Sorrows braided into galaxies, puddles made into swimming pools.

We are just spilled paint in an art portfolio, the shards in a broken mirror.
~ J

Lack of substance 

Art, Words

She could not help it. The laughter had taken over her being and now she only existed as the uncontrollable exhales. That was all she was; which was far more than she had ever been. A shell or perhaps a mask. Covering up the lack of substance and personality. 

It wasn’t her fault; at least not entirely. The world could’ve have been a bit more understanding of her chaotic creativity. But the way it always goes she was branded a lunatic. 

At first she’d fight it. Tell people off. Stand up for her beliefs. Eventually she stopped. Her efforts were all for nothing. Realising she would never be seen as anything but, she instead became it. She did not own it; she was consumed. The very essence of her being had abandoned its independence and was now solely an image of what other people saw in her. Their prejudice; most of all their belief that she would never be anything but. 

And so it goes. The different become freaks and individuality withers and dies.

⇝K