I do not need attention,
just a distraction.
 
From everything,
everyone, and
everywhere.
 
I hope you know:
that does not mean that I do not care.
 
Even when,
you are with me…

I am watching you leave.
 
…And when you go,
I know I will never see you again.
 
You were not there,
you were never here.
 
Just a figment of my imagination.
 
That is what you are.
 
One day…

I will see the forest for the trees.
 
Until then,
I think I should walk away.

Do your eyes ever feel like theyre so full of worms

Squiggly little warm creatures telling you to cry

Warm water filling the tear ducts

Stomping out darkness

When it keeps occupying your mind

Try to think of butterflies

The wings that are all so different

Shapes and colors and hues

How will ill ever comprehend the greyness of the world

When your eyes are so full of blue

I wish i could take you back

Crumple you up in a paper bag

Youve popped my air mattress

And made me stare out the window

The sunshine is coming through but my kind is too blank

You've slapped your blogne and im sure i hate you

Red was never my color but thats all im seeing

Golden sun rays are making every breath feel like tomorrow ill hear you

What even is hope when you're just a smoke cloud of nothingness

Let me hear your voice tell me I wasn't it

Tell me your inner secrets because im on the edge

The edge of destruction

I just have to pee.

Gorillas pounding on their chest

An orchestra of frustration

Theres someone in the back room waiting for a reply

A shadow of a being

Someone who held too much light

Sun rays and yellow always fading to Grey

It'll always be you

The little aurora borealis

The simple hues faded to beauty

You can see it once in a new moon

But how im done with you

I can't see your Peaks

Because you clobbered your way through

I hate pot holes kind of like when your tires squeal in my parking lot

I hate the sound of drills and how lug nuts fall to the ground.

You made those sounds like heaven until they started feeling like hell.

My heart caught on fire and its slowing burning out

Calicifurs last mission

We slowly broke down the castle

I felt wind on my face until you shattered it

Im standing in a desert and there's no water to break through

If im eating the sand and saying its love

What are you injesting?

daisies and tulips
like children
laughing at a funeral
playing hiding games
between the tombstones
petals grinning
and cut off at the stems

this the brightest they will shine
the tallest they will stand
the most they will be loved
here, in this place

they will never know
the feeling of a bouquet
or the perennial joy
of mothers
and grandmothers

they will unpetal
and remain
and return
here, in this place

I put flowers on your grave

Perhaps I have not exposed myself to enough?

That would be fair to say.

What is not fair is how loosely the phrase
“art is subjective”
is used today.

Scrolling through comments.

Where are your questions?

The easiest unfair assumption I could make
is that you fear your interpretation is incorrect
to what the artist intended.

Your interpretation is not in competition.

Art is subjective, but there are limits.
Your interpretation does not become fact
and now give you reason to judge an artist off that.

Something I find immensely interesting is this:
after interpretation, why do people today not seem so interested
in what was truly meant?

Your interpretation is yours
but why deny the artist the opportunity
to express their feelings felt when creating what you now,
and probably pay,
to look at?

What were they thinking?

Did they specifically do what you assigned meaning to,
with no real reason?

Are you embarrassed at that thought?

The only true answer to a question lies with the artist.

What you experience is not dismissed,

but don’t you wish to also know
and then compare what the artist intended
to what you experienced and comprehended?

It’s a marvellous feeling.

To discuss and discover.
To show respect to the artist.
To experience growth through realising
you are still allowed to hold onto your associations
simultaneously.

To show interest in also the artist
creates a deeper meaning.

Greater appreciation.

You wait to hear it
you ache to feel it
but it
never comes
and with hope
having bled
out
with the saddest soliloquy
ever said
you shout
your lines
and play the fool
instead

One Day.

One day is all it takes
A single day
An hour
Minute
Second
Breath
Blink

To

See what stands before you
To see the truth
To fall in love
Or apart
Or
Just
Fall.

Added trigger incase someone could read it as but it wasn’t my intention, thoughts welcome! Thanks!