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Artis May 3
My heart—frozen still,
searching for the will
to forget you.

The alcohol takes its course.
Tears slide down my cheeks
as I try,
fail,
try again
to forget you.

Was my love real?
Or just something to play with—
fooled by the warmth,
cut by your words,
sharp as paper.

You made my heart ache.
Still, I stayed.
Now you just make the alcohol
taste sweeter—
and the night colder—
with every sip.

It's okay,
the drink—
is the love I need for the night.

Our favorite song—
all I can hear
is us singing it
with our whole hearts.

Was it love,
or just—
need?

Every memory in my head—
crumbles.
'Cause all I have now is this bottle
to pour my tears into—
to remember every lie,
you shakily whispered,
in my ears, holding hands.

Now you're gone.
All I have left
is the drink—
we used to share.
💔 Inspired by the legendary Jeff Buckley.
Artis Apr 28
They say life is a show that must go on,
but what happens when the show is over,
when the music fades,
the sun sets, and the curtains close?

Will everyone forget the wrong I've done,
the pain I caused?
Will they clap when the show is over—
find reasons for me to be missed?

Will the ones I love—
when they feel empty—
keep me
in their memory?

I've caused pain,
made people cry,
broken hearts—
but will any of that matter
when the curtains close?
Tears have been shed.
Will they care what I've done?
Will they stutter my name?

Will I be able to rest easy—
knowing everyone thinks of me fondly,
and leaves out the rest?

The ones who once hated me,
will they be able to forget,
and love me for the memory I bring—
leave out the rest?

Please, find a reason for me to be missed.
Forget the rest.

Time is ticking—
I only have so much—
time,
before the curtain
makes the credits roll.

Please, don't resent me
for the things I've done.

Leave the hatred,
leave the pain,
the tears—
with the closing curtains.
Find reasons to miss me.
Let me live as a fond memory—
before my time comes,
and the curtains close.
Artis Apr 26
ME.

   I am who you want me to be,
I am perfect in your eyes
But to myself,
I am nothing.
Nothing enough to be called—
Perfect,
  In your eyes
       Nothing without the version that you see.

      To you I only exist in a fairytale.
You only see pierces that fit the puzzle you made for me.
Artis Apr 25
I want to peel back your skin
and show off all the layers no one gets to see
I want to crawl inside your skin,
and be that layer—
you never thought,
you needed.

I'll add new layers
that make your skin soft.

maybe then I will understand—
why your skin is so roughly made,
burnt from all the thorns of the world
stepped on and left marks that never seemed to heal.

but you still dont show it, do you?

what’s hiding in those layers of
fake happiness,

pain,
misery?

How do we cut off all the dead skin
make you blossom—
into new skin, that doesn’t cut you with every touch?
Sometimes we carry skin, thats too rough for us to get rid of alone 🥀
Artis Apr 24
I walk, unsteady.
legs shaking,
my face deathly pale,
voice losing its tone.
I fall down, but i get up,
cant stop myself from falling,
the floor beneath sinking,
looking for a steady ride.
that doesnt exist these days.
the wheels always fall off,
all comes crashing.
  Apr 23 Artis
Zazu
You didn’t deserve my art
You didn’t deserve my mind
You didn’t deserve my poems
You didn’t deserve my heart

But I gave them to you anyway
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