Across the Way

Red lights abound,

A flickering side-show hiding our frowns,

Dressed up all pretty;

just want to be found.

Empty glasses accenting nothing,

but young blood craving something;

more.

Things seems good,

potentially normal.

He wants to chat,

thinks I’m immoral.

I tell him to fuck off.

Mood seems dampened,

But I bite back the tears.

Because after all;

it was just a compliment, nothing weird.

At least that’s what my best friend seemed to think.

Hours later the bars all closed.

My spirits had lifted; I suppose.

Said my farewells and let her drive,

away.

because she was always more poised than I…

…thought I could be.

Can’t question that, because it’s easier just to trust she’s got your back. And if she has my back I’m sure she has her own…you can’t defend another if you’re all exposed. Can you?

And if I can’t honestly say I have my own, then who’s got her back? Because I clearly don’t…since I’m the bitch who let her drive away; all fucked up on oxy cut with glaze.

Too late now,

I say to myself;

Walking down the street,

On my way to the house.

Few minutes later,

phone makes a ding,

weights all seem lifted,

when she says she’s home safe.

And that makes one. I thought to myself, eyeing that same shadow across the way. It belongs to the creep that I’d kept at bay. But now it’s all dark, and I’m not feeling sure…that I could do it again. Alone. Here.

He probably lives on campus, probably not a bad guy. Just a little pushy when hyped up on rye. The rhyming is lazy when I’m all worked up. Thing’s don’t quite flow and we all know what they serve at bars. I could try and rhyme alcohol for you but I don’t think it would matter, in communicating this learned fucking reflex that causes me to cower…when I see a man. When I don’t know what he’s doing over there.

Across the way.

I’m sure it’s nothing, and that little flash every thirty seconds is probably his phone.

Still; my hand is on that whistle…the best gag gift I ever got.

And I’m sending this message because I just want you to know, that I don’t feel quite right being alone…right now. And maybe the drugs just cloud up my mind, maybe his shadow is nothing but kind, but maybe I don’t feel like he’s reassured me of that the way he touched me without asking.

So, I’ll send you a text in a minute or two,

When I walk through that door we’ll know I was a fool,

for shivering and quivering in these fucking high heels,

hoping to God he isn’t the kind of tool,

who likes my false advertisement; my eyes still belong to you.

So don’t fucking worry,

I’ll be home in a few.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

Digital concept painting:

Soapyabstract4

Copr Blu-art 2018

The artwork and poetry portrayed here is the exclusive property of Blu-art and cannot be reproduced in any fashion without explicit and authentic written permission from me that is reproducible and recorded by me. 

Cynic 34

Writing and creating artwork is pretty much the best thing ever. It comes to me whenever I need, and goes when I don’t. I love that. The hard part for me is sharing the products. It’s nerve-wracking putting a piece of yourself on display to be ridiculed or loved or even ignored. No, it feels much better to keep such things private, to hide them away from the toxic fangs of judgment and just enjoy them. That’s what I do most of the time, why most of my work never leaves this blog. It feels safer here than places like deviant art or even design by human.

Is it weird that I only find enjoyment in the act of creating? Even when it’s positive feedback or constructive…I don’t know. I don’t want these things to feel high stakes, I want them to be a medium for expression and emotion and a release. Maybe some of it comes from school, where I’m judged constantly during exams, quizzes, and projects. Maybe the arts an escape from that, and by sharing or submitting I end up falling into that same examination. I don’t like that feeling. I just wanna make pretty stuff and feel something.

I think that’s why I take so many hiatuses from blogging or posting anything at all. My art is just better when I don’t think about what other people will think about it. You know?

Anyway, happy hump day.

-Blu

Raptor Virus

“You haven’t been sick till you’ve had raptor virus.” he told me, grinning all self satisfied like he did when he was proud of something.

I let that hang, not wanting to seem too interested. But raptor virus? What the fuck could that be? Giving in, I met his eye and asked, “Okay, what’s raptor virus?”

“Oh” he said, “Pretty much the worst thing ever.”

I sighed and warned, “If you tell me you get it by traveling back to the Jurassic era, I’ll punch you.”

He shook his head a little and said, “Don’t worry, you’d never catch raptor virus during the Jurassic era.”

“So what is it?” I asked again.

“A virus you catch from travelling back to the Cretaceous period and trying to ride a raptor, duh.” He flinched away as I swatted at his shoulder before half shouting, “Hey! What’s that for?!”

I paused and met his eye, thinking a moment in order to communicate my thoughts as unambiguously as possible. A few moments passed before I answered, “If I had more options, we wouldn’t be together.”

He chuckled and muttered, “And that’s why you don’t have more options.”

 

Stubbing Toes isn’t the Worst thing.

What makes finding peace and happiness so difficult? Shouldn’t it be as simple as doing what makes you happy? It should, but it isn’t. Doing what you fulfills you and expecting to survive is like walking through a minefield without a metal-detector. Sure, you might make it through. But if what you do, at any point, puts pressure on the wrong spot…offends the wrong person…well good luck.

Doesn’t mean it’s not worth the risk. Here’s to stepping on a few toes while we try and find our way.

😉

Blu

What’s Improvement Anyway?

To me it seems simple. Get a little better at being who you are each day. I’ve felt a lot less like a derailed train recently. All that’s changed: I’ve stopped trying to be something more than who I am. Instead, I just focus on being me. I think I’ve gotten better at being me, too. Sure I might fail at some stuff, but as long as I keep at it, I’ll get through it. I’m ready for you midterms!

>:)

PS: Thanks to my doggo Rufus for letting me use his pic on my Blog again. You a good boi ❤