Pigments

Glistening blues and nude hues inspired by soft pigments easily flowing on paper forge an image in the mind, one of smooth sensuality flowing through the body sweetly. Enter atoms in creative hands and pass through spaces of darkness and light unseen to the naked eye. Inhale the aromatic fumes like a distant memory of joy returning to your atmosphere—a fog swallows you whole then lifts you up.

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Angels and Demons

Sometimes the power lies in your fingertips as they caress the darkness inside of you. Your fingers caress the darkness surrounding you and turn it into a vague light—a slight illumination of demons and angels housed inside your soul. Let the night breeze guide you into a spell that you sing like a lullaby for the flowers growing around your foundation. The silver glints in the candlelight as you let the building catch fire so that from the flames, your spirit can be reborn. Rise from candlelight as the candle burns out and smokes itself into the nothingness unrecognizable as air. Light irradiates from you and warms the frayed buildings that housed your beliefs in between the night sky. How perfect did your shell burn into and outwards throughout the night.

Thank the Sunrise

She said “fuck it” none of it is worth it

This feeling of insufficiency in you and you and them

She said “sleep it off”

Addictions are better left

To be treated in the bright mornings

When the candor of the sun sings its light

Into your eyes, enkindling your vision

With flames of truths that have been burning around your body.

The Dark Side of the Moon

Everything is heightened as if this cold front brought things into perspective. There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach when in the past there would be exhilaration, perhaps it’s all the pills getting me down and interacting in some way that deviates from the norm like a statistical significance. There is the dark and there is the light and sometimes one takes over the other as if to give the other the rest it requires to return more strongly. There can’t be much like whittling away the pieces layers to leave space for the art underneath created by steady hands. At times all is not well and she will be difficult. Terse words should be enough to express the extent of the depths within. Maybe I’m less patient because I don’t feel well and I’m a bit unhealthy or maybe it’s because I’m tired of being the repetitive waves crashing against the shore to soak tiny pieces of sand created artificially. Be dark, unflinching, tense, and done if you need to be. She will be.

Meditation

The trees rustle in the wind as bird chirp their unique trill. My body is surrounded by a fresh wind on a warm day and it feels like a mint leaf, aromatic and icy at the touch. Meanwhile my head is fuzzy as if bees had been buzzing around it all morning. The sun’s rays warm up the ground and shine with the splendor of starlight as I sit here calmly in a meditative state.

Dark Gray

Your true color is dark gray, muddy, half devoid of substance as if it couldn’t be enough. Your halo is gray and tilted to one side and I saw cracks in your demeanor. For a while I looked at myself and saw some of you reflected as I slowly turned light gray from a pure white. Your color is dark gray, beautiful, but grimy and it brings me down and I wonder what it must feel like to carry that weight with you of pouring out uncontrollably as you hold on to fragments from when you fell to the floor and shattered. I am an act of self-love, in constant motion, and ever so willing to give the little pieces of light that I hold in my hands, but I can’t share that light if all you’ll do is obscure my path.