Chelsea Rae Mar 13
There is green in the world again
And it feels as though a sprout has risen from beneath all my turmoil.
I did not realize my seclusion until I felt the warmth today.
I hope with all the new life coming into the world
That it is also time for my life to blossom into something better.
For some reason I don't hate spring this year.
As artists
We want to hold on to our creation forever
We want the reader to interpret our art with our intention
We want to control
But the truth is
Once we release our art into the world
It becomes common property
And belongs to the world
We do not get to dictate
How our art will be received
Or whether the viewer must laugh
Or cry
Or become nostalgic
The purpose of art
Is to let it go
Chelsea Rae Mar 2
I am the way people are at 3am.
When they are bare and out in the open.
Must be the way that sleepiness makes us stop worrying about
keeping face.

Must be why I just don't fit in
because I wear my soul on my sleeve
all around the clock
and everyone else waits
'til the quietest moments
to finally be heard for who they are.
I am just an open book. Wish people were always real 24/7.
Chelsea Rae Feb 26
I always feel like a rope that has unraveled to it's final thread

and I think to myself so many times in life,
"This is gonna' be the time
I snap."
Always SO sick of life and tired and always so fucking ready to be done.
Chelsea Rae Feb 26
It was one of those nights that instead of feeling as bright
as all the other stars that had been pin-pricked into the sky,

I felt more like the blackened blue stretch behind them
because tonight,
I just flickered out of existence.
Alone. Lonely. Never anyone to fucking talk to.
Chelsea Rae Feb 20
Why do I have to fight so hard for love?
I am physically caked in dirt and my soul in loneliness.
Ragged clothes and short breaths.
Fallen to my knees,
Black ink trailing down cheeks.

The blood
delicately down my fingers.
I have cracked and missing fingernails from
clawing the walls they've built.

My hands burn from pounding on these stones.
My body broken from all the
crawling, clutching, and clenching I've done trying
to hold on to people.
Lonely lover.
Next page