{hurricane} poem x e.l. jayne

{hurricane} like a light, steady rain,  the feelings still remain, but they don’t overwhelm me anymore. –e.l. jayne

{charred remains} poem x e.l. jayne

{charred remains} because no matter how beautiful a forest grows, the aftermath of a forest fire only shows the charred remains of a past life. –e.l. jayne

Getting Away With Murder — Pointless Overthinking

As an empath, I believe in second chances. Life can be difficult at times and can cause people to act out of character. No one is perfect. 45 more words Getting Away With Murder — Pointless Overthinking

{paradise lost} poem x e.l. jayne

pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere, or wine, whichever is more readily available. when people say they understand me, it makes me grieve… despite trying to conceal my soul, they think they can identify with me. great drama, rich color, and deep shadows, however much I belong, in my soul, to the Romantics,  I…

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{seafaring ode} poem x e.l. jayne

{seafaring ode} i once read, a poem that grew to be my favorite: ‘it’s not the ship but our own selves that we miss’ and that explained my heartbreak perfectly. starving for something unavailable, something i couldn’t find in myself, so my voyage carries on,  caught between the devil and the deep blue sea, as…

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{defying physics} poem x e.l. jayne

{defying physics} as the first snow of the season falls,  i tuck my feet into my blanket, contemplating what i shall do with all these poems, it seems to defy the common laws of physics that they shall exist, if those feelings don’t exist anymore. alas, i’d prefer if they didn’t. –e.l. jayne

{reality} poem x e.l. jayne

{reality} the only thing I believe in is art. however much I identify with Romanticism,  I can only find repose in Expressionism, distorted, exaggerated, unvarnished truths stemming from my imagination, rather than reality. —e.l. jayne

‘moments of distraction from worse things…’

What I write, knowing that it’s bad, might also offer a few moments of distraction from worse things to another sad or wounded soul. That is enough, or rather, it isn’t but it nonetheless helps in some way, and that’s how it is with life. Fernando Pessoa

{gradual} poem x e.l. jayne

{gradual} and what new perspective could i have today, after another day of doing the same things? it’s not a riveting life that I’m after, but a modest variety would be nice. nevertheless, even if ever so subtle— and as in the mountains, some things change with time, and over time, everything changes. –e.l. jayne