sylvia plath watched all her figs rot
because she couldnt decide
which to eat
im watching my figs
and i dont want any of them.
not right now.
i know i need to eat.
i still want to eat.
i just don't feel hungry.
I opened my pantry
and found my heart pickled
Remember, I set you there
after you got broken
years later, I gathered the courage
to show to the world
Are you ready?
Put my emotions in a glass jar,
closed the lid on a real tight.
Set it aside.
Take the next big best thing,
make myself occupied.
Thinking it can make me happy.
Now I can't get through to my emotions
Without having it exploding on me,
like fireworks on the 4th of July.
Fireflies in a jar
Covered in mountains of scarves
Darkened, but not out
Still it shines
Despite not being seen
Deep within the cocoon of fabrics
Soft as a kittens fur
To rough as canvas sacks
All contain the light
Sheltering it from the outside world.
- Jay M
October 8th, 2019
She is but stardust
written across the skies
of haze and wanderlust
with wayfarer soul eyes.
Like ultraviolet rays,
she cannot be seen,
she reaches in waves
shinning in dark scenes.
Wish upon her,
this shooting star;
gaze upon her,
a celestial bell jar.
Sifones que mantiene el gran charco de las emociones, están sobre el estante.
De lejos veo solo mi pared repleta de repisas.
Contemplo si uno de estos frascos quisiese yo hoy bajar
Hace mucho tiempo que en este cuarto de mi casa no me encontraba la sensación de ser un lucido espectro, pero quizás si lo era porque daba la coincidencia que sólo recordaba ver mis manos en las veces que me acercaba a tocar un tarro.
Does it ever bother you that pictures can be lies,
how a smile can be faked and nobody will ever realize.
The photos of you that I hang on my walls are starting to feel distant,
I hear a pain in your voice, as if you could break in an instant.
And it's a whole lot easier to burn a picture than it is to burn a memory,
And I was kinda hoping that we would never reach this treachery,
And you're falling under quickly and I can't do a ******* thing,
And I'm writing songs to cope but I don't have the guts to sing.
I think you're better off away from me.
I think you're better off alone.
We're a memory in a jar
never getting full.
But those who think it
is empty and worthless,
do not understand thought.
For it is fluid,
and all liquid
Causing a storm to rain
down on us.
Refreshing what nearly ran dry..
She was the fire fly that I held
in a jar of frailty.
But no matter the temptation
I kept her withheld.
The world that was concussively shallow
without her brightness.
Could I contain the light that was needed,
it gasped at breath
brightly before me.
There was too much oxygen to keep
For when the jar fractured,
her light shined brighter like a super nova
of minimal proportions.
When I let her fly free of her shackles,
woven in the fabric of evanescence.
Life momentarily seemed to mean more than
when it was kept clasped in a jar
of visualised reflection..
And every rising sunrise burnt brighter
as lingering fire flies kept
ignited within the vocal
message that light had rose once again.
People think I'm just
an empty jar
with a lid on it.
But you took the lid off,
and looked underneath
And it said!
"If your reading this
then you know
looks can be deceiving,
I wasn't ever empty,
I just didn't
But you saw underneath the façade.