Unauthorized Poet

Mainly thoughts disguised as poetry

[its-me-jesse]

There is muffled murmuring everywhere. It feels like I've stationed my office in a public swimming pool. And I can almost smell the chlorine, I can almost hear the splashes. I frighten at every raised voice too close to my desk, if I get up I think I'll slip on the wet footstepts left by the people circling me like sharks. I cannot get up, I cannot see the sun, a rubber crocodile passes me by, and I remember him so well, he used to take me anywhere, now he doesn't even look up.

[its-me-jesse]

Where is the breaking point?

I'm close to it, but I cannot find it.

It calls out to me, but it misleads.

It finds pleasure in dragging me along a little longer,

it wants to know how badly it's really needed.

[flowerytale]

Daphne du Maurier, from Rebecca

[its-me-jesse]

Happy Deaths

The first signs of summer have started to show in spring, I can hear the ambulances rushing in every way. It is May, and people believe the world to be different from April. The sun makes stupidity bold.

[its-me-jesse]

I have given up! I scream to the gods. I will never be like you, and you have taken everything from me to make this clear. I will obey, as was always expected from me, even I can see this now. I am ready to die, and become a story to tell, twist and turn it however you see fit. When I arrive in the land of Hades, I will once again have all I need. Only we will know that not heroism, but foolishness, was the death of me.

[its-me-jesse]

A show of tombs on display, did they ever scatter the ashes? Am I sitting between stone and dust again? I do not always mean to go where the dead reside, but their urns are still among the living and I seem to find a ghost at every turn.

[its-me-jesse]

I put flowers in the fountain and I water them myself.

I feel like I've done this before.

I can already see the weeds coming trough.

I welcome them and I water them too.

I notice the flower pedals are starting to touch the soil.

I leave them be.

I water the weeds.

[its-me-jesse]

I pretend to search for happiness in all the wrong places, but really I'm not looking at all.

I think I might know where mine is, if it exists. But even this knowledge slips my mind most of the time.

I just worry about what I'd have to do to get there, and when I arrive, what I'd be doing with the rest of my days.

I read somewhere that I should always stay scared, because this is how the broken feel alive.

I think it might not be the worst idea, to start heading the way my gaze has been avoiding, and see if perhaps fear could bring along some happiness.

[its-me-jesse]

I'm beginning to suspect the true meaning of being human is simply faulty wiring.

[its-me-jesse]

Not exactly praying but much like a prayer and I pray to whoever has you in their stars to keep you there because this ruthlessness is endless and who knows however long I can keep asking for your protection when I haven't given the universe a thing.

[misishigh]

intimacy

someone asked me what i think intimacy is,

and i feel like that’s a silly question.

because sometimes it’s leaning my head on your shoulder while we wait for our coffee,

and sometimes it’s seeing the tears line your eyes when you try to tell me something about yourself but you don’t have the words to say it.

sometimes it’s knowing you’ll call me at least once while i’m away just to hear my voice,

and sometimes it’s knowing you’ll call me all the things i like to be called while you fuck me.

sometimes it’s sitting next to you in silence,

and sometimes it’s a blind moment of panic and instinct guides me toward you to save me.

sometimes it’s sobbing my eyes out because you’re not hearing me,

and sometimes it’s an “i’m sorry” to show that you did.

everyone expects the usual answers,

fucking, sucking, laying on your chest.

to me, it is any moment when i can feel my soul touch yours,

and that’s not something i can put into words.

[its-me-jesse]

It is nearly the end of July and August already feels like autumn and I still remember when I forgot April even happened and I missed all the things in March and I worry that the winter will be long but summer flies so quickly you can hardly break a sweat in the heat before you find yourself singing christmas carols around a tree and what I'm saying is maybe the seasons and the months shouldn't matter so much because I simply can't keep up.

[its-me-jesse]

"Do you think love passes?"

"I think love moves, Yes. But not away from you, deeper inside. Deeper inside where you can't quite feel it so easily anymore, but it finds a little place in your heart to call home.

That's what I think."

[its-me-jesse]

One time I stuck my head into a tub of water and breathed in because I wanted to know what drowning felt like.

I didn't learn how it feels to drown just then.

Only how it feels to choke on water.

[its-me-jesse]

For some people, kindness just doesn't come easy. Because kindness is a thing only the people who have decided to heal can afford. For some people, there is a time in their life where kindness may as well mean defeat. It's a barrier, the rudeness I mean, to protect. Kindness does come, but you have to realize, some people need to heal a little first.

[its-me-jesse]

A real poet can't help from writing poetry. It is not a choice or a hobby to pick up when bored. When there's poetry in one's soul: a grocery list becomes a rhyme, a diary entry becomes a love letter, a simple thought turns into a dance across clouds and every softening smile creates a million sentences to accompany it. It's a tiresome life to never stop thinking, but there is also a kind of peace in the idea that you never have to try to do what you do best, and that there is absolutely no use fighting it.

[its-me-jesse]

Words are what make my soul a real thing