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 Mar 2024 F Elliot
Jeremy Betts
I feel safer somewhere cold and dark
Like my lonely, ransacked heart
At times it has played the part
Tucked behind a fleshy rampart
Casting a stark silhouette,
Becoming somewhat of a trademark
Can't remember when it lost it's spark
It had to have been sometime, way back,
Before the halfway mark
The memory gets a bit hazy,
Especially when trying to recall the start
What I get to deal with now is,
Just how quickly it all fell apart

©2024
 Mar 2024 F Elliot
jolly
nothing
 Mar 2024 F Elliot
jolly
do you remember me

probably not
i never became anything

nothing more than suffocating, dissociative daydreams
surrounded by green leaves on lemon trees
i still could not thrive
amidst the accommodating salt air
still fading,
still weak
living on figurative life support all of my teens, now at twenty-three
decaying in one room, with one window looking out to an alley

can i even say i've changed

as romantic as it would be to say yes, and for the worse
i'm still not "me"

i do not even get the luxury of claiming i was once something before i turned into nothing

i remember claiming that i was trying to "be art"
in hopes that being an abstract museum of things you could see, but couldn't touch would somehow save me
but that is no way to feel
no way to be

i am no poem,
i am no painting,
i am no line i am no iris i am no olly

i am nothing
"Your father touched Sin and became real that night,
       foundering in the seas of Spira. How sad now, that he is caught in the
       tragic spiral. He is Sin. He is lost."
 Feb 2024 F Elliot
jolly
dead life
 Feb 2024 F Elliot
jolly
the words that keep coming to mind are "dead life"

i tried to live a life so many times in the ways I could with everything against me. dissociating and clinging to anything all of my teen years and up until recently. yes it wasn't real or material but there was life there. life that i couldn't reach but life nonetheless that i wanted so bad and kept trying to preserve. but i can't beat the dead horse anymore. the dead horse that is my ideal body, my hope for a comfortable life, my dreams. i havent looked in the mirror and meant it in over half a year. ive done it so many times. thinking that one day it would be how i want it to be. and id dream about it, and make plans that i knew i couldn't see through.

"if you just do stuff and nothing happens, whats it all mean? whats the point?"

i still live a life as everybody else does, but the one life ive wanted more than anything is a dead life
Gut dropping falls
Dizzying ascent
It scares me
But I get back on

Forgive and forget
Care first for yourself
Pursue pleasure
Avoid pain.

Asynchronous
Dichotomies
Cannot achieve
Mutual satisfaction

Pain is inevitable
The price of living
paid in discomfort
And Uncertainty

A life of comfort
Is quiet and easy
An extraordinary life
Challenges the soul
Even though my head knows that the drop is coming, it doesn’t cease to be exciting. If the extraordinary was routine, what would be the point of pursuing it?
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