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  Jan 20 jamiah
don’t be a stranger.

last night,
i reached out
to a few old friends,
forgotten family,
to make amends,
id gladly do it again;
it was nice
to push away my pride,
burn some bridges,
let go of grudges

hey stranger,
don’t be a stranger
smile like a friend
no point in constantly being angry, let go and vibe :) it’s nice out tonight and the air feels just right
jamiah Dec 2020
in a book, this would mean something
a metaphor for loss or a symbol of death
in a book, i'd be crying and hesitant
wiping away tears and smudging lead on lamp
in a book, this would be grieving

in a book, maybe things wouldn't turn out this way
some sort of redemption arc teased and foreshadowed
a sliver of hope
in a book, people would be easy to read
two-dimensional and predictable, no room for hurt in between the lines

in a book, maybe id be tracing this in pen
cradling every memory of mine with my heart held high and no regrets
loving every second of every
moment of every
happy ending

i erase and erase itching to burn the shavings and erase again
deleting years - erase
deleting smiles - erase
deleting fans - erase
deleting nights where he was all i had

in a book, maybe i wouldn't move on so quickly
maybe i would have waited before etching over the past so fast
in this book, would book-me incinerate her erasers?
would book-me close the back cover and pick up another read?

in a book, this would mean something
but it doesn't
**yes this is about panic! at the disco; i drew his logo on my lamp a few years ago so this is 100% self-indulgent
jamiah Dec 2020
today i woke up to a spirit.
i opened my eyes to nothingness, but i could feel the warmth radiating off of the dip in the bed.
at first i was dumbfounded
where were you? could you be the spirit?
and so i fell in l-o-v-e with it.

       wherever i go the spirit follows.
i feel it hold my hand
i feel it massage my shoulders
i feel its l-o-v-e giving me subtle back hugs through my days
seeing its blank pages and crestfallen words in a misted silhouette
dripping invisible ink and cloudless skies
it is not tall or short, nor boisterous or timid
its l-o-v-e lives in hushed sighs
thriving in times of need and want
licking at insecurity and toeing the line between warm and unwelcome

       the spirit’s words fill the stillness
replacing anything that was missing with a brand, NOT-MISSING, in bold red font
sorting emotions into definitions and not feelings
it plays lorde on tuesdays and falls asleep at three a.m.
organizing my books alphabetically because everything must make sense
things always needs to make sense
       It listens.

       the day you left i fell in l-o-v-e with a spirit.
the embodiment of your memory
the sweetness of its silence
the comfort of an embrace

       i, reality, woke up today
       you, abstract, seep into crevices where you do not belong

turning everything into meaningless greyscale
poking out of my head and into my business
into my life
into my spirit that reeks of ink and dust
as i choke and gag on the imaginary memories
slurring on sour, dingy and desperate hidden behind my teeth.
my spirit and i play mitski on fridays

it doesn’t speak
and it dare not sing along
prodding at delusion, the spirit wipes my tears
mouths that it will be here forever
smiles that you are a future tense
that the bed was always empty, and the warmth was my own heartbeat
that my soul would not let me down so easily
you left in a future tense
where the bed is not empty, and i do not wonder of nothing
where you will speak, and you will laugh, and you will play christmas songs in the middle of july
rebranding everything missing NOT-MISSING to memories

       and once the spirit leaves me, too?
at least i'll be prepared for the emptiness
**i wrote the og last year so i thought id do a lil more
jamiah Nov 2020
in the gutter, she lost herself in waves and echoes
she found colors in their noise
brought her soul out as a brush
and let herself be free

building off of the whispers in the air,
she tangles herself in the wires of headphones much too silent
her hands wailing with her: offkey but peaceful
making art of a dartboard rather than a bullseye

she hears the texture, hears the emphasis, and the contrast
she paints notes, paints not so pitch-perfect progressions
bathing until her eardrums shake
and the canvas leaves no room for silence
  Oct 2020 jamiah
sing me your inspiration,
so that words may blossom
through the rings of the tree
in my paper.

gift me your passions,
so that pathways may carve
through inked rivers
and graphite daydreams.

paint me your love,
so that I may palette
your rainbow
and color my canvas

with my favorite colors of you.

the soft pink
of the inside of your lips,
and the offset grey
haloed through your eyelashes.

tiger lily freckles framed
by sweet peach
and wallflower blushes.

rainfall wrists
and dutch cocoa silk.

all my canvas needs
are the colors of you.
acrylic affirmations and watercolor whispers
jamiah Mar 2020
everyone wishes
for their over the rainbow
but nobody knows
that an addiction to blithe
is worse than a wicked witch
*the wizard of oz meets delusion
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