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 

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

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 
 

New Years’

Art

It’s morning

After drinks

After talking – and not talking

After lingering looks

After dancing – dancing too close

 

It’s evening

Before anxiety

Before regreting – and not regreting

Before confusion

Before wondering – wondering what might be

 

It’s night

During fairy lights

During happening – and not happening

During extacy

During moments – moments when time stands still

 

⇝K

Moonlight+Stardust

Art, Words

I feel like I need to preface this. It’s ehm… It is what it is. It’s very sappy and cheesy and sad and cliche but I wrote this when I was feeling all of that so it fits, I guess. It’s not a poem but it might be poetry. Just like life.


You are everything,

I could’ve had,

I could’ve wanted.

Dark green eyes

show a sparkling soul

and a world I want to revisit.

You hold me close,

stars dancing above our heads

And I know that in another world,

another universe,

There are no black empty holes.

that in another galaxy,

My wish upon that falling star

might come true.

You say in a light year

or half a year

Our orbits might collide

and we will be

Moonlight and Stardust

once again.

~ J

My love – A (Christmas) poem

Art, Words

My love has two left feet

She waddles about and I cannot help

laughing when she dances around the Christmas tree

 

My love has one lazy eye

Sometimes I occasionally hide

from her in plain sight when she wants me to help make pie

 

My love is the one

I forever shall deeply and truly love

even if a bit whimsy she still holds this love of mine

 

⇝K