Jonathan Pearce
Stories (3/0)
II
All you ever knew how to do was to suck me dry and rob me of who I am. I feed on sadness because of you. I hold on to sadness because it shows me that I can still feel something authentic. Happiness or any other feeling just feels tired and forced. I couldn't blame you though. I shouldn't have let my guard down. I shouldn't have let you shape me like how I shaped you. Sculpting each other to make a masterpiece. To each his own. When did you lose passion for art to watch and let your sculpture fall and shatter; scattered on uneven grounds? When did you feel so ashamed of that art piece that you'd let someone walk all over the pieces with their dirty shoes. Maybe you didn't think I was the masterpiece. Maybe I simply wanted you to see that I was. Maybe I wanted you to see in me what I saw in you.
By Jonathan Pearce5 years ago in Poets
I
I wish more people could recognize the beauty in staying true to oneself; diverging from traditional thought and realizing reality. Craving a life that consists of souls piercing through each other, creating chains unlinked to sexuality. Desiring what is deeper than flesh. Although, I am guilty for wanting to gently kiss your delicate soul; nyctinastic bleeding on contact, dripping down my lips. Morbidly contemplating your defined edges. All I can think about is the weight of insanity that sinks deeper into my mind. Little did I know that your power was my poison. Little did I expect that my poison nurtured your power. An endless cycle that I find hard to regret.
By Jonathan Pearce5 years ago in Poets