⛈️Vibe☁️

It's a mess, but dig around and take what you'd like. Sometimes I write.

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

249 Drafts

-

Lately, I've heard love compared to drugs.

A chemical explosion in your cortex,

Just lights that flicker out.

And they always flicker out,

That is repeatedly stated.

I've learned that love cannot save me.

It cannot reverse the clock and rip my innocence back,

It cannot resurrect the dead

And as someone who has dabbled in both,

I'd have to argue that

While I've clawed at my skin

Desperate for the bitter taste,

I'm not sure it compares to that sinking loss

Of connection.

Expectations, I suppose,

That's the root of it all.

I never expected, shivering and sweaty,

Those drugs would save me-

But you?

I thought you hung the moon.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

I have a black thumb.

Where other's love blossoms like roses,

I seem to kill

Everything I touch.

And it's not romantic in any sense,

It's not as if this is my nature,

And I do not grieve them,

It's all I do,

All I do is grieve,

And perhaps even death studies his chemicals

And counts his steps

And takes the longer way home

To avoid shattering his loved ones,

Only to watch it all end

And know his hands are cursed and rotten

And no amount of study in the world

Can fix that fact.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

And I have so much anger

With no where to put it

How can the world do this to you?

You who is kind and gentle,

Pastel yellow soul.

How can I forgive this?

I do not want to be filled with rage,

I do not want to boil over at every sound

Or twitch at every breeze but I do,

I do and I cannot stop,

And you cannot be here to help,

How can I forgive this?

x

[likeahauntingmelody]

before sunrise (1995)

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Nothing I do feels real.

I wonder what disorder that is,

What sickness they'd say I have this time.

I feel like a walking scribble on a page,

An afterthought until the ink really flows.

There is too much me in everything I do.

x

[remanence-of-love]

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

I go to bed on time, most nights.

I am happy and at peace and totally myself,

And then I cannot sleep.

I cough up pieces of me,

And it stains my hands black.

Drips down my wrists,

And I can't shake it off.

I can't wash it off.

I can't escape it.

It's not me,

It's not me,

It's a part of me,

Yet it's ripping it's way out of me,

So am I the monster or the shell,

My soul shakes like a child inside me.

I go to bed on time, most days.

We don't talk about the days I can't.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Girly

-

And lord, I wanna be that girl,

Who doesn't care how she looks,

Who knows that looks change with age

And bodies decay,

But I feel as if I'm ripping rot off of me,

As if I'm mushing my face into

Some semblance of humanity,

I'd rather be under the covers.

Who am I if not pretty,

What am I if I cannot please you?

These thoughts sit like barbed wire,

Cutting me when I dare to move,

I lose energy just trying to exist,

Am I a bad person?

Is this..a bad person?

I cannot find myself,

I feel as if I'm running a race I was meant to lose,

My body aches and I wanna see the world,

Can both these things exist?

If I move on from pain

Does that make it not real?

Lord, I used to pray every night.

Whether I did or didn't,

It was always so quiet.

I was always alone.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Pulse

-

The smell of spring slipped in the window,

And I remember busy streets

And standing outside of food trucks.

I remember yelling over loud music,

And flicking through comic books,

As if the world didn't scare me.

We sat in the grass

And decided we hate macaroons.

And you liked having your picture taken.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

One time,

My dad found out I liked blueberry cake doughnuts,

And I swear,

They were suddenly always around.

To him, I am still sea turtles, blueberries, and broken bones,

To which he owes no apologies.

And I gag at blueberries.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Early morning blue settled over the house,

Deep and dark,

And the scent of black coffee and cologne hung in the air.

I buried my face

In your pillowcase,

Felt the silk sheets

Against my bare skin again.

Bring me back home,

Let me breathe in safety.

There's nothing familiar here anymore.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Sick.

-

I woke up on, what I believed to be,

The longest week of my life,

And it's finally Friday,

And I'm staring at myself in the mirror-

Only it's not me,

And I'm whispering oh wow,

And it's lips are moving

But it looks less than human.

The image moves and warps itself before my eyes

And I cannot make out what is wrong with the reflection,

Just that something,

Everything,

Is very, very wrong with the reflection,

And every part of me cries out to go hide in bed,

To go back to sleep where I cannot bleed in the open anymore,

But even monsters have bills.

Even the dead have debt.

My face feels like a scribble,

And I settle into my desk

And try to forget,

The reflection from the Friday of the longest week of my life.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

You Exist Somewhere.

-

And my phone became Schrödinger's cat,

My front door, Pandora's box.

I became unable to eat certain things,

Move certain ways,

Breathe certain air,

Or I'd find myself twisting in agony-

Trying to claw grief from my stomach,

Rip it from my eyes,

Swallow it deep enough that it finally goes dark again-

Everything still,

A house of glass.

I am unwell,

And I love you still.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Bleed

-

A random Tuesday,

A broken heart.

Familiar things and places.

So many ways you could have loved me,

And all I asked for was gently.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

No Lights

-

Tired of trying to find love

Where it does not exist.

Trying to dig out kindness

From piles of glass and rubble.

Excusing my tears as just

Illness or something uncontrollable

Like this world doesn't crush me.

Like it doesn't sit on my chest and crush me.

I cannot breathe,

I haven't had fresh air.

There is no fresh air anywhere.

There is no air.

x

[yourfriendlycourtjester]

Butterflies & Moths

-

You do not look for me in the quiet places.

I rip pieces of myself

From my mouth,

One over the other,

A futile attempt to reach you.

To become something precious,

Something worth digging up.

I am suffocating under all this dirt,

Wondering why I buried myself

In the first place.

x

[animangabwedit]

Sono Bisque Doll wa Koi wo Suru by Fukuda Shinichi