Verse - Blog Posts

What is night? Restless and dark, a heavy cloak upon my heart.

My eyes burn and my hand shake, but sleep eludes me, cold hands gripping me in the dark.

I cling to the bedside light, stare at it until my vision blurs. I long for sleep.

My chest feels too tight for my heart, pounding anxiously in its cage. My breath is too short.

What is rest? It is night yet my mind races, and I lay awake.

Art is not my friend right now

I am filled with so much jealousy for other’s art, I am unable to enjoy my own.

Art is not my friend right now.

I can’t come up with anything new. I miss the days where this wasn’t a chore. We aren’t friends right now because I want my art to be something it is not.

Art is not my friend right now. I can’t make my hands create what is in my head.

Art is not my friend right now.

But all I want is for our friendship to return. It may be selfish, I want her to bring me joy. She might be the only one that can. I want to bring her to life, so we can walk hand in hand amongst creation.

Art will be my friend again soon.