Re-edit. - Thereās no such thing as āsafeā. Iāll clear you from harm. Iāll take you in. But sheās out there, waiting, wishing, taking notes, sheāll haunt you before you arrive. Iāll keep you from her, your salvation, Iāll hide you in the deepest shadows. Youāll cower in fear for the rest of your life, youāll wish you had never found solace. My dearest pet, you are mine until you rot away. You are mine until your soul thins. May any odds be in your favour, but let go of hope; For it has little to do with what you have become. Iāll forget you exist until I need you again, until I want you once more. Every whim, every murmur, Iām that grumble in the stones under your feet. Youāll be with me, as I will you. Until I am satisfied. Only then, if and only, will you have all that you need. And all you need is me; an escape into a shallow mirrorless chasm. Without me, she will have you. And I cannot allow whatās mine to pass.
Fallen from heaven - a concept in which the misfits will continue to feel banned from society. Struggles to make friends, to keep family happy, to work everyday like a robot. The distance I feel between myself and others is greater than it ever has been, even though Iām aware that this is just part of my process. Sometimes it would be nice to have a group of friends who I can hang out with often, jump into a car and go on adventures, grab a Starbucks and play silly little jokes on each other. But thatās so distant now - this image shows how the black sheep will always be reaching for things everyone else has, but not ever fully achieving it. #socialart #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #renaissancephotography #socialissies #neurodivergence #autismacceptance #artist #dramaticart #witch #blacksheep #dramatic #alternative #darkart #unique #originalart #original #conceptualart #photographyedit #augmentation #darkcottagecore #darkcottagecoreaesthetic
Scattered around are flecks of flesh, slowly turning, writhing. Iāve seen better bouts of pink and blue under my chair. They seem painful, but the light strikes them. I feel beautiful watching them burn. Iāll profit from this moment, every time I come to it; settled into this atmosphere. I canāt breathe though, not anymore, an exchange of currency. I donāt need to suffer for this, but Iām choosing to because itās as real as I want to feel right now. Maybe down the line, theyāll stop breathing too. If they settle, slow down, maybe Iāll regret having any desire at all.
Whatās so delicate about me? You can touch me and grab me. I would accept it, lavish in it, melt in your hands. Would I not belong to you in the middle of the night? Could you caress me deeper if I behaved well enough? Emboss me with your signature, please, thatās what itāll take. Iāll come pre packaged and impaired, so that you may hold me, that Iām softer for you. More than anyone else.
God, youāre beautiful. Just a child of this planet, you deserve to be here. Iām so glad youāre here, let me hold you only to let go again. You should be here definitely, indefinitely, keep walking through space and fill the room with your air. My oh my, did I shift? You moved me. Prompted me to feel something new and real, god, you have to be here now. Come here now, please.
I first heard this song when @jessiemazin was sharing her acoustic clips on TikTok back when life was a building block of confusion and half-certainty for me. Theyād only be snippets but Iād save them and revisit them whenever I needed them, it felt like her poetry could move me through it. Iāve been up all morning really enjoying this new album. Definitely not bawling my eyes out either..
What am I doing here, without a word Iām lost in the translations of a poet. Under my chest bounds out pieces of my heart. It seeps and leaks each time Iām laid down to rest. It refuses the tear, itās weatherproof and sodden, itās mine and nobody elseās. An armour, they say. āTheyā. Who the hell are ātheyā? To tell me to guard as if thereās strength left over from the last one. But Iām standing here now, right now, Iām right over here. Bewildered and crying, I found the break and with dust, begin to pack the hole. A second to you is never forgotten, am I right?
I sit with you and itās the first time you meet me. You think to yourself questions about my oddity, wondering if I am even human. Look through me and picture anywhere but here - itās okay, Iāll laugh it off soon. Iām warped in shapes I canāt see, therefore I am pliable and unwilling to face myself too. At least you have the courage to witness me. Iām sorry that you donāt know what to do with me because I donāt know either. On the days where I lay still, you donāt know well enough that it hurts. Write your notes, tell me Iām fine, tell me goodbye.
