Stuck in a life full of tragic
She wants to leave
And find her magic.
No, she’s not erratic.

Hides all her pride inside the attic
Of her mind
It's all just static
No, she's not dramatic.

She slips again, and starts to panic
She’s sinking fast
Like the Titanic
It’s just a habit, it’s automatic.
This isn't fairy tales that you read
It's ****** her dry she can't even bleed
She’s falling apart all over me.

She's in her room on the phone
Crying to me
That she's alone.
Her mind is stuck in traffic.

A pile of dreams under the bed
Once full of promise
Now torn to shreds, can’t admit it’s dead.

She tells me what she thought it would be.
Like it is on tv.
She’s no longer in the scene.
She picks it up right where she left it,
On the floor, she can't forget it.
This isn't magic.
This isn't habit.
This isn't tragic.
It's automatic.

there are the ones
that feel it climb up
the shadow towards the light,
hesitation on every rung,
each wave of the arising
      overwhelms  unabated ―
and woe betides those
who are on the run
from a storm's deluge


A rousing ocean breeze
stirs inside the memory
of an unframed seashell
lying on the hearth mantel;
heightened sensitivity
lapping soundlessly,
spindrift plashing
the shoreline
of another world's
feigned peace


Perhaps the muted voice
of guilty pleasures,
hushed by their own
hidden truths
Feeling the unfelt textures
of every stifled vibration
left unbreathed


The naked truth befallen
so cold and lonely
Running in circles,
volatile as all those
     unspoken excitations raging ―
and the whispers of those
who hear not
the voices in the wind


An emotionally enslaved  heart
tarries,  marooned high and dry
in a memory on a distant sand bar
     lain fallow for so long ―
stagnant darkness
of an unsated soul
gathered on the back
of a parched tongue
sullied wordless


Rising up through
a dusty hieroglyph corridor
through an unlocked
labyrinth gate;  vestige echoes
from somewhere left behind
in an incomprehensible
abandoned wake


It's getting harder and harder
   for an insatiable soul to breathe ...
   climbing up a tree trunk―
up within the silence
of the listening tree


  Toes dug into
the rough bark furrows ―
fingers reaching upwards
beyond their deepest known grasp


A shadow stranded
out on a hangin' bough
hearkening without ears that hear:
“perhaps they’ll listen now“  
the wingless bird sings
in psalms that fly away
on tattered feathers
over untamed waters roil


Back to nature’s waning youth,
the bough bends unbroken
to taste the freedom
of the wild absolving seas



Jesse Stillwater
June     2018

The wound is still fresh.. I still feel hurt and still feels so empty, but I´m slowly realizing that it should have happened.
I fell in love with you and I fell a hundred miles really soon even though I still wasn't recovered from the last heartbreak. I liked you from the very start cause you seemed cool and nice. You were nice to me and you seemed interested.
Then I found out that, you were wearing this " I´m okay" mask like me. It made me like you even more, cause once in a very long time, I didn't have to hide my mind and my sadness anymore. I didnt feel crazy anymore. I felt like I was flying,like I was levitating, being carried by the wind. I was almost close to the stars and moon and mostly you, my Mars...
I almost grabbed your hand, but then one of my demons grabbed me, pulled me down through the sharpest rocks and trees, he found the ocean and tried to make me drown. Instead of helping me out of the water, you did the opposite. You got mad and offended. Then the past few months you tried to pick me up and then you were dropping me. It felt like a roller coaster that I couldn't escape. I was stuck.
There were times when I wanted to escape, yes I admit. But around me there was this rope that was making me tied to this sick ride of yours. I was up and I was down, over and over again. It felt like a game, a chess. It felt like we were playing this sick game. Action-Reaction. We were desperate for attention, mostly you. You were saying this stuff, just to see my reaction.
I felt like a lab rat, being stuck to this disgusting, heart-wrenching experiment. You were manipulative, selfish at some point. I was a puppet and you were pulling the strings. You made me dance and pose, but then you were bored of me so you threw me away and made me feel like I was the one who did something bad, like its all my fault.
In either way that I could metaphorically explain this relationship or whatever this was to you, it will still sound and feel disgusting. I could tell you, how many days and nights I spent crying, panicking, screaming and begging from the escape. I could tell you about all of the hours I spent worrying if everything is okay between us and actually cutting off my friends and family just because you literally demanded me to call you and when we were fighting you said that I´ve never did that and that I was always "busy". I could tell you about all of the minutes I was thinking if this or that thing is okay to say and if it wont offend you. And I could tell you about the very few seconds that my heart was breaking and cracking because of you...
But all I´m going to say is thank you for the nice moments you gave me, the way you lighted me up... Too bad it wasn't real for you as it was for me. I´m ready to move on, to go further without you.....

Yes, you had your demons
As well as controversy
But the fact your life was taken
young, it is a tragedy
I don't know who you are
I don't know you personally
But, goodbye xxxtentacion
I pray you rest in peace

Life is very short
And there's no rewind button
So live and let live

Try to be happy
See life as an adventure
You only live once