Alone on an island am I
Surrounded by my favourite things, and yet
it's a prison
I reach for inspiration, divination
instead finding isolation
a prison
of my memories,
my treasures, my luxuries,
how self-involved can i be?
How selfish can I be?
My problems in reality
are as small as i seem to be
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 10:17 PM UTC
When you're not around,
I feel weighted
Like I can barely hold myself up
looking in the mirror.
I feel average,
morose,
usually easily pleased with everything i see
now angered,
ill minded.
It's like I'm bitter,
that I'm not hanging around your
over boyish charm,
your know-it-all attitude,
your breathy voice (especially when it's my name on your lips)
your teasing antics,
your gorgeous smile
and oh god,
does it make me fall apart
I've never had this feeling
Never lost something I never had
Never had a heartbreak
Where I didn't hand him my heart
It's genuinely a baffling feeling
I don't want him,
Because I can't have him,
it's simple.
He's not mine to have,
not a single other way about it.
But somehow,
despite all his flaws,
despite mine,
despite my own raging objections,
When the lightnings striking,
the winds are howling,
and he's just staring at me,
light hitting his eyes and smiling,
I want him.
I'm not familiar with this feeling,
this ache,
this warmth,
the longing
lying in bed,
stretching my hands out,
reaching,
searching,
wishing
for his
May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
Would it be better to delay the message?
Leave it imprinted in my brain
Let it boil and fester,
Let it soak up all the pain?
Do I let it become so massive
That I just cannot relay it?
That I call you to tell you I love you and I miss you
And hang up when you answer it?
Should I even bother?
I've let it go too far
That our friendships slowly turning out
To be a dying star?
I want to call you
I miss your voice
I miss your jokes
I miss you
But I'm scared that it'll sound like excuses
I'm worried that there's no weight
I feel like I can't breathe
Because it's all too late
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 11:01 PM UTC
Hovering over the keys
I have no clue what I want to write
But I know there’s something there
So I continue to fight
So I carve every scar open
I empty these feelings onto paper
I overthink every line
I hesitate at every word
Especially the rhymes
I anxiously scribble
From heart to a thought
And in the end
I end up with nought
Not a single thing worthy
to post on this page
And I feel that it’s all
getting worse with my age
I’m like every band
The old stuff was the best
And almost like I’ve peaked
No point bothering with the rest
So I don’t know why
I even write anymore
Because writing nowadays
Just feels like a chore
Mar 12, 2020
Mar 12, 2020 at 9:58 PM UTC