#jacxk

[fwoof]

March 23, 2019

Give me air or let me drown;

In this sea so far from you

Give me air or let me drown;

All I have left is sorrow.

Cut out the defective parts of me.

Leave me bleeding on the ground.

Tear these feelings from my soul.

Take all but the tiniest part of me.

Just free me from this pain.

My slow suffocation

I have asked you before, but I beg you now:

Take me away from here God.

Don’t make me hurt this way anymore.

- Jack Elliott Smith -

[fwoof]

June 14th 2017

Is it okay to hurt? Is that stupid to ask? Is it okay that after all this time I still feel like shit? Like I should be better; I should be over it. Is it okay to hurt? It's wrong what they say: absence makes the heart grow fonder. All I hear is that through this I'll be stronger But Is it okay that I still hurt? Does that make weak? I'm growing more tired with every word that I speak I keep climbing up, but there is no peak And I'm falling. I suppose things got better But not the things that matter. My restless soul still feels restless Please I just want to forget this Free me from my feeling Let me escape from my being One step. One pill. One shot. One moment. Is it okay that I still hurt? Will you let me make it stop? - Jack Elliott Smith -

[fwoof]

June 15th 2017

I'm grasping the air like a poet with a deadline; a corporate sellout writer, who swears that he's just fine. - Jack Elliott Smith -

[jacxkery]

© Jack Elliott Smith

[jacxkery]

Giraffe -  ©Jack Elliott Smith

[fwoof]

October 9th 2017

If a sentence is written and no one is around to read it, does it make a sound? Are the meaning of my words less profound If what I write is never read aloud; Never seen, or heard. Never read, or pondered. Am I a writer, if I do not write? Am I a poet if I do not speak? Is a poet just a writer who talks about how they feel inside? They get up on stage to talk about parts of them that have died? Add in another alliteration, Till this thing you write becomes an aberration, So detached from the truth, but it's got a good flow. It no longer feels right, but it sounds cool though. If I stand on a stage, and profess my fears, It still hurts me, even if nobody hears. But I feel like I must edit to make it right; so when I get up here, and finally say it in the light- I can feel less vulnerable. Less scared Less of a mess. I write words of truth, but they soon become fiction; When after it's done I pretend I don't still have this addiction If what I write is never seen or heard, is it art? Or just a diary of things that are in my heart. Can I still create, without the facade? I crave to be great, to see people's heads nod. To agree with me To be with me, in this darkness To see for me, Can you help me tell the truth?

- Jack Elliott Smith -

[fwoof]

June 17th 2017

I listen to you cry. What makes your heart bleed? Is my silence another cut in your chest? Any words that I say feel empty. Though truthful they may be, they hang uselessly in the air. I wish you were free But I’m scared of what that means.

- Jack Elliott Smith -

[fwoof]

October 4th 2016

There are many places where one can find beauty; in endless forests, or mountain spaces, in streams or hidden lakes. But of all the places I have gone, and all the places I have looked, I find the most beauty whenever I am with you.

- Jack Elliott Smith -