writingmontene

[writingmontene]

You have to want

And before you want

You must hope

And hope

Is increasingly fleeting

Everyone has an opinion

Advice

A lecture

A vice

Sometimes the former creates the latter

More often than not

What would I know

This isn’t advice

Nor a lecture

But perhaps my own vice

[writingmontene]

The blood moon comes,

Cling to your gods

[writingmontene]

Nether

I am scared to sleep.

Is there even a point now?

When what I am met with is more of this reality?

Dreaming used to be an escape.

Now it's a sentence.

Sometimes it differs.

Some nights are reminisced.

Others are pain.

I couldn't tell you which is actually real and what is not now.

Everything is warping,

yet it's never been clearer.

I can't tell if it's a good thing,

or damning.

-Montene

[writingmontene]

“What changed”

She looked up from her task at hand. She waited.

“You’re not you. This isn’t you.” A frustrated sigh “Is there even a point in talking to you now? I just don’t understand. What changed?”

She blinked.

“Everything.”

She turned back to her work. The sounds of retreating footsteps haunted the empty room.

She smiled to herself.

How interesting they didn’t see her death,

And that they too, took part in it.

-Montene 10/23

[writingmontene]

UNK

I read a book today.

I initially picked it up because of the recommendations. The reviews.

"Life changing."

"Heart breaking."

So many recorded reactions of tears.

Perhaps I seen it as a challenge.

Instead of tears and solemn, I closed the last page and smiled.

It was just too real.

I felt comfort in finally being understood.

I don't know whether it's good,

or a shame,

no one sees the same way.

[writingmontene]

I want to be loved,

The way I deserve to be loved,

But that would imply I believe it’s real,

And I no longer believe in fairy tales.

-Jo Montene

[writingmontene]

I do tire…

Of drifting in this sea…

Of my own making…

But it is mine..

My own..

And your island is not welcome.

- Jo Montene

[writingmontene]

“How” they asked.

“How can you live through everything and still be so full of life?”

“Simple,” I retorted. “When you’re robbed of life you spend the remainder of your time cherishing the tiniest moments.” A small knowing smile graced my lips.

“Little by little I reclaim moments stolen from me, and emerge more alive than ever.”

- Jo Montene

[writingmontene]

It isn’t anger I feel.

It’s murderous.

A rage that comes and goes like the tides.

This time I won’t let them go.

And I will hold them until I feel the world crumble beneath my feet.

And finally take me with it.

- Jo Montene

[writingmontene]

I asked

“What color do you think is best?”

And he

Picked the opposite of me.

- Jo Montene

[writingmontene]

I hate that I am slowly making peace

With the crueler aspects of my life.

I hate that I find comfort

In knowing I was right.

I suppose it’s better to die with my eyes open

And live without ever knowing.

-Montene

[writingmontene]

"To burn a world, one must set themselves aflame.. I have always expected this." -Jo Montene

[writingmontene]

Other

Sometimes I feel like, Im falling.

Endless through the trees,

Every branch is just,

"A bump in the road",

Another,

Nother,

Other. . .

How do I still feel?

[writingmontene]

Crystal

I feel crushed,

Smothered,

Unbreathing,

Everyday, yet,

I wake,

And take a breath.

[writingmontene]

"There is nothing in this world that I hate more than the sounds of hearing your voice, except maybe seeing your face."

-Anonymous

[writingmontene]

Motley

Somethings are beautiful as they are,

as they have come.

Then at other times,

the strange is amorous.

Those who hold collages within themselves,

drawn into captivating abstractions.

Collections of years gone by,

a motley of the empyrean.

[writingmontene]

Sometimes, I silently whisper your name to myself lest I forget the taste of it on my tongue.

-Jo Montene 02/2022