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I walk through hallways
White lights, Marble floors,
And portraits on the walls
Of girls covered in moths
The contrast to their eyes
Resting on their lips like morning dew
Drawing up tears, as if nectar

I think through hallways
Many have stated that
A moth is drawn to a flame
But I recently learned
A moth is drawn to celestial lights
And though a flame can mimic celestial lights
It is not a celestial body

All the girls are celestial bodies
And all celestial bodies are covered in moths
Strying 2d
somewhere in the distance, I see myself in the light
what's in the dark, is whether I'm still alive when illuminated.
When I’m in the dark
All I want is him,

Blurred silhouette warm to the touch,
Skin to skin in the dim.

When the contours in the corners loom,
Hold me without sight.

In the dark, and nothing else,
We are one shadow, slight.

When the lights come on,
Unfortunate details grow.

Like a **** from a crack,
A blemish in the snow.

In the savage of the day,
The barriers of our skin discrete,

We just can’t make sense,
When light and eyes meet.
This poem is about wanting to be with someone who isn't right for you.
Keep away from bad company if you want to see the new day
as dark clouds will quickly gather to drive the light of hope away.
________
From 'Simple Observations' ongoing writings since the early 90's.
I let fear fog up my mind
My thoughts yell at me "I'm trying!"
While my actions show me
I'm want to let the light in

but I fall into darkness
all too often I hide away
and avoid the open blue sky
because the rainclouds distract my mind

the sky-blue sheet above me
only inspires every thought
I try to avoid to blow through
and bring rain from within
Do city kids look with familiarity at the umber night sky
Or do they feel the same cruel sting of longing as I
Is this distain my pre-ordained destiny, something primeval and true
Or am I the only one made restless by the poisoning of the blue
Short and sweet I guess
Laura Apr 2023
in the hush of silence
in the calm of peace's release
they approach, dancing
their presence a gentle tease
last year, amidst the ebb and flow of time's sway
I erred and guessed in myriad ways astray
last year's tears
steadfast companions through the night
yet within their shimmer
I glimpsed a guiding light
not hatred but fear, you instilled within my core
teaching love's tangled dance
entwined forevermore
addicted to disappointments bitter taste
to the cycle of ascent and fall
not one to waste
you and I
a tale of what could never be
a symphony of longing
a silent plea
heavy the heart
in the weight of sorrow
I find my spirit free
I found this in my journal, from 2022
Jess May 6
These thoughts
so dark
These visions
so bright
One cannot exist
without the other in line
Like the stars that shine
through empty space
Don't  you  see  it?

                         The
D u a l i t y
                 Of
L i f e

The                            
B a l a n c e
                 Of
L i f e

We hold the key
To destroy                                            
                                          To create

But to wield
such power

Who are we and
Who are

You
And that is the Journey of life. To find who we are, or rather, to remember who we are.
The stars shine in a vast nothingness.
the heat creates light and form, and with the right mix...eventually you get...life.
If there is no meaning, then what's the point?
Randomness breeds Nihilism.
And that breeds despair along with all of it's cousins,
creating a chain reaction.
As within, so Without. As above, So below.

We are responsible for what we create, weather we know it or not.

Artists create through pain, but also create through joy and love. We have intense emotions. They are both a gift and a curse.
We have the ability to transmute.
Everyone does in some way.
I think therefore I am. I speak, therefore I create.
What you think creates the world you live in. What you speak forms it into existence.
How we use it is up to us.
There is a blessing in every curse
and a curse in every blessing.
Otherwise, how would we know anything without it's opposite?

*If I don't believe in something beautiful than I will fall into myself into utter destruction and ruin and fall into the darkest depths my thoughts can fathom.
Seeing the beauty in the smallest of things keeps me...alive. It keeps me here it keeps me from falling, it keeps me from making myself disappear. Sometimes I want to die. Other times I feel nothing.
But what pulls me out of that is seeing the beauty of things,
the balance, the compassion.
Sometimes I need to fall really hard again to see it once again.
Because every so often, i need to be reminded of just how beautiful things are,
but to do that I need to pull myself through the darkest depths of myself and face the hell i created for myself to remember what the light once looked like.
Such is life. In all things.
But that's just what I think.
Man May 2
So much to say, which means so little;
So little to say, what that means much.
These ends we face, often,
Come on fast and taper out just as such.
What that remains: naught but thought.
Loose and multiplicitous as strands,
Hair of the artist's brush,
Colors as the richest palette -
Bold & bright, deep & dark
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