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jack Oct 2020
here’s to the angels
who love playing with fire
and to the demons
who are too scared to set the world ablaze

here’s to the angels
with the attitudes and snarky remarks
and to the demons
with the soft smiles and fragile hearts

here’s to the angels
who like faux leather and dye
and to the demons
who prefer to cover up their horns

here’s to the angels
who were kicked out of heaven
and to the demons
who want to escape hell

here’s to the angels
who never fit in
and to the demons
who can't fit in

(here’s to us; humans.)
it’s an old one. thoughts? x
jack Oct 2020
boys like me ache with loving boys like you. boys like me stretch our limbs and try as hard as we can, but we never reach the stars boys like you enjoy staring at. boys like me wear our hearts on our sleeves, knowing boys like you wouldn’t think twice before ripping away and stealing, because boys like you keep their hearts nested safely behind their ribs and boys like me only hope you’d keep our hearts safe too. boys like me ache with loving boys like you, and boys like you love to be loved more than they can ever love boys like me.
jack Oct 2020
i came here to find myself.
all i found was a reminder that i’m not a saint
jack Oct 2020
this is it: the true story of how i came to be, ripped apart from its sad romantics and its poetry.

i wake up with two thoughts on my mind, and just like pre-written script waiting to unfold in my life, i can’t push them away or find different words to say.



the first one is simple and easy; a thought philosophers on the internet love to share, a thought born when existence meets will:

why am i awake?

but, it can be something else. see, i think in too many languages and colours, and i forget what words can mean. why am i awake? why do i choose to wake up? why am i forced to wake up?

why am i awake — why am i not sleeping, still?

why am i awake — why am i not dead?



the second thought comes to me the moment i open my eyes and i realise i don’t recognise the body my soul hides inside, or the walls of the room i’m trapped in, or the smell of the air that rushes in once i open the door and run outside, as fast as i can, as far as i can —

i run, wondering,

where am i? who am i?

why am i not in my body? what am i not in my city? do i have a name? and if i do, what’s my name?

i run, and i keep running until my feet are sick of the taste of salt and rocks. she finds me hiding in a place where my people come together to worship their gods. they don’t do rituals like they used to, but they still use their voices and value faith above all.

who am i? why do you pray?



i don’t know i’m running from her until she finds me, and then i know. she’s beautiful in a way words can’t describe, and i can’t begin to fathom her soul.

she taught me how to be a god, once upon a time.

who am i? why do i know her face?

i still don’t know what i am, and the only one who knows is time. but, until time comes around and tells me who i am, i’ll try to be a god.

i may be a god.

who am i?

i am a god.
jack Oct 2020
one night i stopped being alive
but the next morning i was revived;

i found myself in the city of shalim,
bleeding, disbelieving, without sight,
lost and confused, tired and abused,
searching for hope, asking for peace,
in a city the world was fighting for,
in a city i’ve never been to before.

my eyes were dead, but i was alive once again,
and the darkness slowly drove me insane.

and then i heard a voice,
from the skies, calling my name,
“do you want to be a god?
just believe it is not a game.”

i believed, and then i could see,
after a blinding light shone at me;

the light shone at the truth
(a saint, i will never be)
and casted shadows at the lies
(they are lies, always have been)
i’ve been raised up to believe,
without questioning, out of fear
of god’s wrath in hell,
and his men’s anger in here.

i’ve never felt as afraid as i felt back then,
when i stood there, watching his men.

and then i heard a voice,
from beneath my feet, whispering,
“is a god what you truly want to be?
just be ready for the responsibility.”

one night i chose to stop being alive,
the next morning i was thrown back into life;

i worried and thought carefully
for a moment that lasted an eternity;
i’d never let a man **** in my name,
or treat a human life like a game.
i’d never summon a lethal flood,
or a drought without a drop of rain.
so i said yes and took a leap of faith,
and a god i learned how to be.

but if a child wore a mask, they’d still be
a child in a mask pretending to be somebody.

so in jerusalem, in the city of peace,
a city where i’ve never been,
i learnt to love and create;
i created my own deen.

(but, please, don’t you think that for a moment
being revived was something i ceased to regret.)
jack Jan 2020
what a world it is,
the one in which we live.
girls are raised to be beauties,
and boys are left to be turned beasts.
jack Dec 2019
.
how do i make you open up
without breaking you apart?
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