This thing called Art

Hello blog family, so sorry I haven’t updated in a while. I’ve been trying to get a hold of my life and trying to make the right choices. I turned 19 five days ago and I’ve realized that life’s too short for any form of procrastination. I’m freaked out that I’m getting older, honestly I think it’s a thing that comes with birthdays. This reflective mood and all the melancholy that accompanies it.

Apparently I was at a dark place in my life last year. I wrote so many poems that oozed of depression. But I’m no longer there, so i write now from a place of light although as a poet I like to wear other people’s shoes and experiment all the feelings there could possibly be. I’ve learnt that poetry isn’t always some eight lines that rhyme with each other. Sometimes we just need to be in the moment and write it how we feel it.

This is the poem of a dying drug addict;

I’ll die in my high

You are the lie and I am the truth

Stone cold and crude

I swear i wanna change

But I’m from the left side of the track

My pleasure and happiness lie with my crack

Mafias, Gangs, Mobsters and Cocaine

Whores and sex in one domain

What now?

Raw, damaged, dirty and perfect

I loved it all.

Drugs may kill you but it won’t break your heart.

I’ll do my best to update more often.

Love always ❤

Sophia x.

10 thoughts on “This thing called Art

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