A broken well
that I was really fond of
sharing.

Worn, moldy wood.
And an old bucket
that had so many trips
to get the tastiest water
for the thirstiest people.

Beautiful.

But over the years
the water started lying down
The mold took over
and bricks started
falling in it.

I pondered for days.

What else was there to share?
How could I reïnvigorate
the worn out travelers?
Who was I
without my well
that others could tap from?

I'm defeated.

A broken well.

And here you come,
YOU,
Drinking from my well
but choosing an other.
But missing mine
so dearly
it hurts you.

It hurts me.
And what is a well,
that doesn't carry
the desire to be pure?
To be clean?
To be drank from?
By you. An exhausted traveler?

My rejection
is met with
your desire
for my water
once more

But tell me!
What is a well
but there for the thirsty?
What can a well do
but indescriminately give?

A broken well
that drowns
in it's own water

My apologies
the water might taste
a little bit salty.
But feel free.
That's who I am.

A broken well.

Shallow beyond measurement.
I shed you from my light.
Stand in the changing shadow of my inaction.
As my warmth slowly slithers away
and darkness crawls back to you.

I talk with masks
but listen to layers.

And they
tell me I'm wrong
in all ways.
An apology would
suit me.

My measurement of depth
should not lay
in the layers of my light.
Because that is for you to find
and decide.
My actions
should not be based on you
but based on inner motions
moving me.
It would suit me
that my warmth
should move accordingly.
I'm sorry
for imposing my expectations,
coming forth from my own dependancy,
on to you.

Layers in my flame

The scary thing about
self-development
is the thought that
you're becoming more
yourself.
While in reality
you're moving away
from who you are
and use your lack
of self-acceptance
to justify
becoming who you want to be.
Which at the current time
of that thought,
you're simply not.
It's scary to believe in a lie.
It's good to move
to a better version
of yourself.
Instead of this lie
I would like you
to at the very least
acknowledge your flaws
and decide firmly to develop
parts of yourself
in order to become more prosperous,
whole and happy.
This way you still validate yourself
but see your flaws for what they are,
simply flaws,
because you were never
a bad person to begin with.

"These old souls, die young. Without ever having truly lived."

One of the most beautifull words
and feelings that runs rampant
throughout my thoughts and work
has to be
defiance.

Defiance
to resist the state of something,
anything. To defy the odds
stacked against you.
A state of survival.
A fight of perseverence
A fight, where in it's essence
you refuse to compromise
a part of yourself.
Defiance is
build upon
a message of
the love you have for yourself.
Think about it.
Would you defy if you would not care?
Would you defy your anxiety, fears
and go through your struggles, if you do not care?
You defy the inner conflict
that you feel that stems forth
from your own hopelessness.

Defiance gives you strength
and perseverence.
Defiance does not bow
for it's loyalty towards you
is unshakable.

Defiance will break you
when you stray from your path.
Defiance will break everything
once you embrace the taste
of it's wrath.

When resolve is shattered
they become doubts.
Fragmented
pieces of a reality that's
jumbled,
like
a picture
taken of a vast mountain
from the reflection
of a small puddle.
I find it sad
but beautiful, still.
How frames of reference
transmute
to doubts,
which become
seeds that grow.
-
In one breath
or a lifetime.
-
Do we overcome
or simply change
what is there?
Does our resolve shatter
or does it branch into something new?
Do my questions stem from doubts
or growth?
Do I have a frame of reference
or do I transmute what is new
to old?