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177 · Dec 2018
Hoping on hope
Lyka Marie Dec 2018
Is it possible
to hope on hope
to hold onto it like its the only thing that offers life
to grab it like its an endless rope
but then every tight grip feels painful
little by little
it wounds your hand
and the grip becomes loose than ever
and your heart bleeds
because you knew this isn't how hope should feel
hope was supposed to make everything feel better
or make everything seem better at least
but hope became the light at the end of a tunnel, only to see it was a train's headlights
almost ready to run you over
now is it possible to hope on hope
even when hope becomes the first thing to hurt you
what do you do if hope hurts you?
what do you hold onto now?
what do you do?
will you still hope for a life?
165 · Sep 2018
Humpty-Dumpty
Lyka Marie Sep 2018
I simply cannot see the way I should go
Or even if I should still go; Now that everything has finished, how do I start again? How do I pick myself up again?
Humpty-dumpty, I'll pick myself up
and then,
Where?
Where do I go now?
:) here's to lost roads and purple hearts that bring pain
139 · May 2018
Spell of a Canvas
Lyka Marie May 2018
The greatest artist I've known once said that blank canvases are more afraid of passionate painters who once and for all knew how to broke the spell of "you can't do that"— and i do agree.

These canvases, these blank, white spaces will stare at you until you end up nothing but paralyzed and intimidated.

You may be afraid, but you are an artist.

Show those canvases what you can really do; splash any color if you have to because the truth is, those canvases are more afraid of you.

They are more afraid of the artist who, once and for all dared to break that spell.
129 · Mar 2018
Thoughts of Madness
Lyka Marie Mar 2018
I have learned how to stare into space for minutes.
And while I'm staring,
While I'm getting lost in my own little bubble,

I repaint these walls,

I rebuild this world we're living in,

I imagine that we're all just a burst of different colors— trying and trying to blend with each other.

And while I'm getting lost, I think that we'll all get found. Somehow.

But I remember,
It's all in my head.

They are all in my head.

— The End —