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Jack Jenkins Aug 2024
i’d like to get lost, to lose myself
in the solemn, quiet breaths of nowhere,
where the world fades to whispers,
and i become simply nothing,
a king of less than i am,
ruling over silence and shadow.
the noise of life wears thin,
like a thread unraveling,
the air grows thinner still,
a fading whisper in the dark,
thinning,
ever so much more.
there’s twilight within me,
a slow descent into night,
where light flickers and falters,
giving way to a deepening gloom,
a darkening,
as shadows stretch and grow.
they rise from within,
silent specters that whisper
of forgotten dreams and distant echoes,
filling the void with their quiet presence,
as i drift further into the night,
seeking solace in the unknown.
in this place of quiet breaths and growing shadows,
i am both lost and found,
a king of nothing,
a ruler of the in-between,
where the world ceases to matter,
and i am free to simply be.
Jack Jenkins May 2024
the shore recedes
then compose
one thought lingers
the other disappears
always oppose
marigold sky hung above
far too bright
the gulls take flight
in eerie silence
wind's gentle sigh
unabating births into a gale
tumultuous storm
it's my heart's only tale
i curse the sun for shining too much
i curse the snow when i hear it crunch
the darkness dwells in the light like a parasite
the evil feeds on the good it takes delight
it smacks its lips and drinks my oceans dry
there isn't a tear left i can cry
for the millionth time i ask my mirror why

only for the winds to die down again
the gulls to return
laughing their hideous laugher
echoing in my head forever after
the shore recedes
then compose
one thought lingers
the other disappears

always oppose
in the depths of my melancholy
i am still here
still breathing, still searching for meaning in a universe that often seems
indifferent to my existence
i dont think i am defiant
but i dont quite know how to surrender
Jack Jenkins Apr 2024
i hate when songs explain me
better than my own **** poetry
as if i was written out like a plot
on some ****** old tv show that
use to air in the 50s
im thirty but im fifty but im
still a teen
leaning into the stereotypes of
misspelled "me's"
its too tiring to explain anymore
there isnt a thing to prove anymore
im just me and
dont know how to deal with me
anymore
Jack Jenkins Apr 2024
cuz my conscience is a *****
let me know who the highest bidder is
let me know the bitter end
sprawled out on the floor
looking for hope in desk drawers
find it and light it up like my life is just passing smoke
a passive joke
i aint growing old because i've been there
growth comes from damage and i'm hella broke
record repeating in slo-mo
unfinished suicide notes tucked in the leaves of better poems and ****** notions
self perception of self perfection is a dangerous *****
and like i said
i'm hella broke
broken dreams like shattered glass
demons dance like a cruel romance
secrets whisper in shadows deep
across my brain voices creep
my regrets echo as a haunting refrain
ghosts that linger and wane
lost in darkness
lost in the labyrinth
i remain i remain i remain
Jack Jenkins Apr 2024
what melancholy
could serenade me better
than a broken heart
a bottle of whiskey
and a head full of memories
that hurt too much
when sober
Jack Jenkins Apr 2024
poetry has become nothing more than
fizzling embers that i desperately bellow
in the hopes that once bright flame will
ablaze again
Jack Jenkins Apr 2024
i long to scream
until the surface of my throat
is as torn as much as
my heart feels
as much as
my mind is
until i am haunted
by the thought
that i dont recall
my own voice
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