The kind of sleep
Where the sunlight is your alarm, the covers and sheets are tossed and thrown.
Your eyes are crusted, drool dried up on your cheeks, with your shirt half on.
Deep, ugly and long…
The kind of sleep,
That you awaken from with an arm stretched high yawn.
The kind that makes you feel confused and dazed for a minute long.
Yes my kind of sleep
Heavy, untimed, long and sweet…
By: meeee… Jasmine
No one is creating any more
just imitating, and duplicating..forgery..
A world of few originals..
If it’s already been done,
Then you were not the first.
Even if you perfected it,
It was not yours to correct…
In this world people are buying artist creations and claiming it as their own work, vision, and passion.
And starving artist are selling out for the pretty penny scraps of their worth.
The Mona Lisa is flawed and incomplete but is still held at the highest value.
Some things just shouldn’t be touched, remade, or bothered.
It takes the sacred and beautiful rare value away from it.
Imitation is not flattery, i don’t care who said it…
Create your own work….
let the past be beautiful…
Let new artist be priceless…
Peace and love Always..
By meee.. Jasmine
Feeling like I’m running
on someone else’s time.
Living my dreams only when I close my eyes.
My feet never hits the ground ,
when I’m flying in the sky.
Dressed as a royal puppet , in a happy disguise.
When I dream, I dream big, reaching pass the stars.
On the stage, my life plays out
exposing my mental scars.
My mood depends on the energy of all, my love is either non existent or raw.
I admit it’s hard for me to be myself, when everyone loves me for any and everything else.
The poet, the artist, the writer, the dancer, the party girl, the optimist, the planner, the healer, sarcastic, sassy, the unveiler…
More or less…
Whatever they choose to describe me best.
I’m that person ,
But only for a while.
Can’t say I’m too proud.
At night in my bed is the only time i am alone with my thoughts.
Silencing my hearts pain with a numbing drink and mute loss.
People wonder why others opinions of me doesn’t really matter .
Good or bad,
They ask me how ?
I would say I’m just really secure in who I am, but truth is
I am my own worse critic.
There is nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already said to myself.
Good and bad…
I like to say I surprise myself everyday,
Saying things others only choose to think.
My value is what I make it,
My worth is what I tolerate.
I am me, that’s all I choose to be
Peace & Love Always
I surprise myself everytime I talk..
It’s like every wrong word replaces every right word I thought.
Verbally I either put my foot in my mouth or remain rudely mute.
There’s no escaping my truth ,
when all i see is lies.
So I send my prayers up high!
Hoping God will give me clear skies and wings to fly.
By ..Me Jasmine
Let me become your obsession. ..
Your needs and pleas
Your wants and dreams.
I got so much to give,
Let me help you believe.
So much to be said , so much for you to see.
Let me spoil you and fill your ears with sweet nothings that lead to your beneath.
Love you to hate you to live you again.
Good and bad
let me become your obsession
Your every thought,
Your every mood,
Your every day
Your every way.
Just let me…
By meeee. Jasmine .. ✌&❤ Always