art-gets-what-it-deserves

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

grief is so fickle

I think I have yet to truly feel it

not that I've had a lack of things to grieve

my mother grieves

her mother is dead

yet I grieve my mother's loss not my own

the feeling hit me when my mother asked for comfort

guilt

I should be grieving

giving comfort at least

comforting others feels wrong on my chest

a pressure

a guilt building, winding into a great knot I can't possibly untangle

grief is made out to be a bird

fleeting and ascending to the skies

what am I supposed to feel like?

my mother no longer has a mother

and one day that will be me.

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

im shrouded in fear

once you've been sick for so long

being healthy is scary

so you make yourself sick for comfort

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

i stand before the parliament in my mind

the judges contort

abnormal limbs

sharp mouths

the owls become beasts

why should i be let free

what do i plead

i plead

i plead

i plead

why me

why me

why me

i feel a scrape

a tear

a rip in my flesh

it came from within me

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

writing only seems to flow from me when i cant find anything else

where thoughts claw at my mind and anxiety tears at my stomach

i find myself dreaming of being a writer but often feel like hell when i write

when the words are desperate to come out and rip out of me

they break my bones and peel my skin back like an invasive surgery

not trying to save me

but escape me

why sit here, why wait and stew to become another psychosomatic pain striking me

my body panics

nothing's wrong now

the thought of something makes me hallucinate

a bee buzz

i feel the pinpricks

tumbling through water

the nausea, the pressure

i am drowning in my mind

it's all psychosomatic

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

i crave to find the thing that finally clicks

this, this, is my art, this is my passion

i am good at many things

never good enough to be great, to truly pursue them

i search for a path but all i see is a field so trodden with walking paths it does nothing but wilt

nothing stays just a fleeting hint, then onto the next and back round again.

maybe one day i will have my thing

something that is truly just mine

and i pray that it will have a shred of worth to a soul that is not my own

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

i fit in neither heaven nor hell

for heaven is too small and hell surrounds me

I do not wish to be different

Make me like the others god

I beg and beg and beg and beg and beg, im begging you lord.

The lord doesn't answer.

So i dealt with mephistopheles

i shook his hand

im now the same as the others

a sinner by choice

i am cursed with the knowledge

i am not like them

i will never be like them

they think i am

but i know they are wrong

they will never truly know me

is that worse than being different?

but who is satan to dictate my actions?

he fell just like the rest of us.

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

a letter to the smoker in me

it clings to my skin, my clothes and my lips like smoke.

it lingers in my lungs,

deteriorates me from the inside out,

i start to wheeze more with age.

i try to escape it but i run through a street of smokers

"exhale"-they chant in harmony

and i am engulfed with smoke once again

i am an addict to my mistakes,

just as i think i am done with this,

never again.

i take another hit.

inhale

exhale

quell the panic from the memories

inhale

exhale

"past haunt me no longer

i am free"-

it comes out as a wheeze

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

to write is to love so much you can't help but to spill it out.

to write is to mourn so much you can't help but to spill it out.

to write is to crave so much you can't help but to spill it out.

i love.

i mourn.

i crave.

the world.

what was.

someone i have yet to meet.

i write to give the reader love,

i write to help the reader mourn,

i write to for the reader to fufill their craving,

we all crave love then mourn the loss of it,

we love then mourn and crave for it all again,

so is the human condition.

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

i will take every piece of you and consume it whole, as i am filled with the greed for love. to absorb you into myself so we can be love. we can be devastatingly human. and isn't that divine?

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

girls are not unlike gods.

visible upon belief. but unlike god, girls are not all powerful.

they are powerful in their subservience

girls don’t rely on devotion for existence and even though i’ve never been devoted to god

i could devote myself to a girl

one day i will no longer be a non-believer.

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

when life feels so ordinary you feel the urge to be extraordinary, yet cannot find the means to create.

[art-gets-what-it-deserves]

girlhood

the need to consume another whole that comes with girlhood, to enrapture a soul to twine interchangeably with yours, but then having people take to you then eject you out like a failed transplant. you cannot combine with them, become one in the most devastatingly divine way. swallow me whole, despite that i'm a hard pill to swallow, let me dissolve into you. lose myself to you and your love, because yours and mine are one in the same, indistinguishable. ours.