half dead battery: a raw confession

black heart, blue light

i came there electric. you drained me on sight.

i was zombified. laid dead, discontent.

morbidly moving through whatever you meant.

the weight of desire

my body didn’t want you.

my mouth played the part.

post-apocalyptic with a pulse in the dark.

circling the room like the world had split.

i didn’t know i was faking till i was already sick.

you were still hellbent on being desired.

i was half dead static in a room on fire.

craving danger

i wanted the danger.

i wanted the bite.

then danger got closer and killed every light.

i couldn’t give you my all.

my body preserved it.

you wanted my heart but you never deserved it.

the truth of survival

i couldn’t fall apart just cause you preferred it.

you wanted the best of me but you never earned it.

the truth is, i’m over it.

the aftermath of desire

it lingers.

the taste of what could have been.

the shadows of our moments haunt me still.

i feel the weight of every unspoken word.

the silence screams louder than any fight.

i remember the nights.

the electric pulse of our connection.

but it was a lie, wasn’t it?

a mirage in the desert of my heart.

the art of letting go

i learned to let go.

to release the grip of your memory.

it’s a process, a slow unraveling.

each thread pulled reveals more of me.

i paint now.

each stroke a release.

each color a scream.

i pour my soul onto the canvas, raw and unfiltered.

finding solace in creation

art became my refuge.

a sanctuary from the chaos.

i create to survive.

to breathe life into the darkness.

i embrace the shadows.

i dance with the ghosts of my past.

they whisper secrets, truths i once feared.

i listen now.

i let them guide me.

the journey continues

i walk this path,

not alone, but with my art.

it speaks for me.

it tells my story.

the story of survival, of resilience.

i am more than what you wanted.

i am whole, even in my brokenness.

i am the artist, the survivor.

i am the one who rises from the ashes.

the journey is long.

but every step is mine.

i embrace the darkness.

i find beauty in the pain.

and i create.

i am over it.

i am moving forward.

i am alive.

For those drawn to the raw, emotional pulse of art, remember: you are not alone. Your experiences shape your creations. Embrace them. Let them guide you to the art that speaks to your soul.

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imoverit