Ive Got Rejected By Every Colleges That Ive Applied To And Here I Am, Wondering What I Will Write On

Medusa and Perseus by Doc Zenith

“Even amidst the hatred and carnage, life is still worth living. It is possible for wonderful encounters and beautiful things to exist.”

— Hayao Miyazaki

A song so dank, it’s almost blank.

Broken pieces put back together, glitches remain forever.

This lone world, couldn’t be much cold,

Without you closer to my skin, dead is what I should have been.

Sometimes I feel it’s better this way, suffer in silence and just don’t say.

Maniac thoughts and foolish persistence, much less pointless existence.

None can know the pain I feel, for it is me that it’s making me kneel.

A song so dank, it’s almost blank.

Forever is a petty word baby, for it can whenever turn into maybe.

Imagine the worst that you can imagine, because in the end, lost stories always win.

Who are you to play these lines, look at your heart and hear it’s whines.

Sure you thought you had it all, but in the end, you saw it all fall.

Who’s to say this is the end anyway, feelings don’t change, come what may.

It doesn’t last, it never lasts, and it’s that much hard to say it’s in the past.

A song so dank, it’s almost blank.

Love is a complicated word you say, you fell right into it anyway.

And don’t blame the fall sweetheart, for it will fix you as much as you break apart.

Don’t blame the one who didn’t stay. Who knows the future anyway.

However mad be the thought of never letting go, never ever say no.

Because that is what will save you baby, from all the things you think “maybe”.

Love won’t save you nor will that person, but darling you’ll have a reason.

To live the way you thought you never would, with the thought of someone who made it good.

A song so dank, it’s almost blank.

@vyshnvy

sometimes you gotta art yourself beacuse nobody else does :)

poem: learning to listen to your voice

i have not been writing much lately,

for i feel i do not possess the “right” words to say,

and i have been tossing more poems

than i have been finishing—

i am learning that

sometimes not saying anything

is better than saying something

empty—

so i have spent nights sitting,

paying attention to the silence

despite the hundreds of distractions

begging to break the stillness

on account of their desire to be

constantly moving—

yet, i do not want to be the one always speaking,

acting as if i deserve that kind of authority,

just because i want so desperately to avoid

doing nothing—

i have not been writing much lately,

but i am not doing nothing;

in fact,

i am finally learning to listen.

-j.g. edge

i’m a hopeless romantic with all these ideal scenarios in my head but i’m also terrified of falling in love and trusting someone new.

romance? like in those hozier songs? you know that’s not real, right?

thinking about Kait Rokowski writing, "nothing ever ends poetically, it ends and we turn it into poetry. all that blood was never once beautiful. it was just red." and losing it

Judge me all you want, when I become a writer you’ll know. I’m not leaving this world without making an imprint on it. Mark my words.