Shadow with a soul

Most days I wake up as a shadow
Not necessarily a bad thing, I think
It’s like anonymity, but my soul remains
I talk, I laugh
I cry, I get mad
I do everything that anyone else can do
But when I look in the mirror
I don’t know who is looking back

- DK

How do you ask...

How do you ask someone why they cheated on you?

You’re left with these endless thoughts of what you could’ve done better or what you could’ve stopped doing. 

And when they say you did nothing wrong, it’s almost...worse. 

Because then you know you gave it your all to love someone, and so much more with these hopes to be loved back the way you loved them.  

And yet they still couldn’t have the capacity to love you back in the basic way that anyone should be loved. 

They didn’t see your worth. They didn’t see your efforts as worth it, so they tried to find that love in someone else. 

As you then start to devalue your worth and your efforts, you feel like you’ve wasted so much time on this earth trying to please someone who never loved you and ultimately already knew that they probably were never going to. 

To my forever love

Breathe

For a moment I felt the sun rays on my skin
Hairs stand up as I lie down and feel full
Yet a shadow lingers and my lungs are heavy
My words are submerged
Left jumbled. In disarray
I can’t decipher what hides behind this mess
So I am left muted, but my mind races on
Listing the good against the bad,
Desperate attempts to make the sun shine again
I do this until my lungs expand and feel lighter
The shadow becomes smaller
And when I regain my breath
I feel full once more

Weather Report

I walk in light rain,
Whose presence big enough to
cast a dark thundering cloud
To cover my rays of sun
Imitating my footsteps,
I walk on my toes now
For I am afraid she may catch my rhythm
And hear what I do on sunny days.
On days I no longer see grey,
I seek for my lost rays
But I’m afraid I’ve lost them once again

December 26, 2017 | 12 am

Being sad all the time sucks; it’s  not intentional, I promise
One moment I’m happy, next I’m in a state of emotional turmoil
The source remains unidentifiable
Until then I’ll pretend to be oblivious to my conscience reaching out to me

Don’t peek

An unfinished painting

It’s canvas is there

Hesitant brush strokes

The paint still wet

Fragile and defensive 

Cautious of my next move

Afraid to alter the image I have in mind

Alas the image has been created

It’s not ready yet

It’s jagged corners

Anxious of unwanted oils seeping in

Artist has pushed

Art feels pressured

Art pushes artist away

It’s not ready yet