Quotes And Poems - Blog Posts

Life is art

Art is beauty

Others are modeled

Life adds to them

Builds up their beauty

I’m carved by life

It takes and takes and takes

I’m art

I’m beauty

That eventually disappears

Because life has taken too much

My heart, it soars

Spending not a single day chained to the earth no longer

While my body, it rots

Beneath the daisy field

Tightrope Walker

I’m struggling,

Stumbling like a failing tightrope walker

I turn and want to blame someone

For sabotaging the rope,

For distracting me

But there’s no one but me

I abandoned safety net and balancing pole

Instead there’s darkness waiting should I fall

There’s no way of knowing what’s down there

Should I tumble, would I crack?

Should I fall, would I break?

Should I jump, would I

Die

Streetlamp light disturbs the midnight time

Distorted shadow, running along the asphalt

It might be mine

Mourning Dead Days

The days

I expect them, wait for them

And when they pass, I realise

They're dead days

Gone and lost,

Rotten days

And of them too many,

That have been too much

I mourn them still

Sometimes it would be nice to step out of one's body and observe

To no longer having to feel and experience things

pain

And it whispers

Maybe I do remember.

The quiet thoughts in dark corners during rainy days or sunny mornings.

I remember losing. Losing against thoughts that snuck up on me.

Is that form beside me a friend? It whispers to me, like a friend would, like we share a secret.

It’s the secret to why I feel like this. The whispers are heavy when they reach my ears. Words with weight to them.

My knees shake. It’s cold. It's the rain. Is it the light breeze? There’s sun. We’re holding hands. We’re holding hands. We’re holding hands.

I don’t know what’s gripping me. I don’t know what’s holding me down.

I can’t stand up.

It won’t let me go. It’s in my legs, in my arms. Weight, so much weight. It holds my hand. And it whispers.

Potential

Hush

Too far, too wide, too fast

Not yet

Don’t go

Don’t, won’t

Don’t, can’t

Not now

Beware

Hush now

Haven’t done, won’t do

Couldn’t do, won’t do

What can I do?

Can’t do

And can’t and can’t and can’t

I’m scared

Don’t ask

I take a photo with the old camera out of my mum’s drawer

A quick shot of life

One short silent depiction of how I view the world

I like the old films

Colours not too bright

I’m not good at photography either

Smudged pictures on 15mm

Too orange, too yellow, too bright

I like looking at people, like capturing how life is for them

I don’t like being near them

I like myself on black and white film

Wastefulness

I don’t

know

I don’t know

how to stop

Stop the tears from falling

Stop the fears from showing

Stop a life from being wasted

Please stop me

Stop me from wasting my life

Stop wasting a life on me