Artists are often
using the fragments of themselves
to create something new
feels so complete
sometimes i want to be broken again
sometimes i want open wounds
so i can use the blood
to paint sunsets
so i can use the torn off pieces of skin as a canvas
so i can carve
masterpieces with the jagged bones left behind
but I can't bring myself to break my own heart in the name of Art
countless stares and empty chairs.
a newfound solace in this empty space.
this was my ig post’s caption. i got inspired with the photo i took yesterday.
I feel everything and nothing at once and I can’t tell if that’s good or bad. There’s no facade put in place, my heart is on my sleeve and there’s only one thing to say. In eighteen years of living, death has taught me one thing. Time is precious and fickle. She is a force of uncertainty that which everyone uses for clarity, but dear there is no clarity in the unknown.
At a feeble age of eleven I lost a friend who we thought we’d all grow with. At age sixteen I almost lost my own life. And finally, at age eighteen my family was told my mother may have five years left.
Time is a cruel placebo effect. She waits for no one and whilst one may think the time isn’t now but maybe in the future, you have to realize there may not be a future.
What happens before now doesn’t exist. It does not exist in our reality. It will never exist until it happens but then the present becomes the past. Why wait for something you want?
Why say goodbye to something you don’t want to lose?
Go follow your dreams they say,
Well, how can i follow them if people can’t stop putting boarders,
If they can’t stop interfering with your life,
Pushing you too hard
Making you want to quit in times when you were fine all by yourself,
Why can’t everyone focus on their path in life? Is it too hard?
Does that sound impossible to you?
Just leave me and my life alone
I will carve my path as beautiful as i can
And with some bumps along the way,
I will create the most compelling work of art.
As we sit down to our dinners,
as we open our romance books,
We sip our water;
their guts spill open.
We study our notes;
their planes crash.
We are testaments to chance,
to luck, to possibility.
We are not products of God.
We are blind goats trotting on our path
before we perish, suddenly,
and vanish into death.
in order for me
to get better it seems
that being broken
is the only way to learn
how to heal
I am possibly going to be recieving professional help soon, so I am in a good mood at the moment. been doing a lot of thinking and reflecting, so hopefully i'll have some more pieces up :)