Discussion For creatives - Poetry, Music, Art, Stories [OC]

[justwannadip]

Hey guys, as someone who enjoys the arts, I thought making a thread for creatives to share original art would be nice. It doesn't have to be about any specific topic, but I'm assuming with how we're all suffering, it could be a place to release that and hopefully relate to each other. Only thing I ask is that you only post original content.

This is a judge-free zone (unless you ask for constructive feedback) and everyone and every form of expression is welcome.

There's really nowhere else I'd rather see and share art with, than those who are also suffering. You guys feel like my people, even if I never wish I had to understand.

Also, my dms are always open if you'd rather share privately. I write songs, and occasionally write a poem or short story, so feel free to msg me :)

(moved here to off topic, ignore the thread in suicide discussion)

 

[justwannadip]

THE TRAIN STATION - a short story

A thick grey fog eclipsed the white light of the sky, harbouring a mist like veil that lined the station. Wisps of fog danced along the platform, falling gently over the edge like dry ice onto the cold steel tracks. I was there again; a plane trapped between the dance of dusk and dawn, where angels and demons held truce, where time stood still. A steady wind blew in waves, carried by the welcoming sighs of a million breathless voices.

I saw an old man who stood alone by a vacant bench, his tattered long gray hair, and wispy beard mirroring the fog that covered the platform. He stared straight out at the tracks, his thin hair strewn across his face from the blowing wind.

I approached him, his gaze still fixed blankly ahead. His deep wrinkles formed valleys that tethered each feature. He held a look of intense concern, but you'd just as well describe him as expressionless. "Am I supposed to ask you—" I tentatively began. Though not interrupted, his unwavering stance and distant gaze conveyed that no answer would come. It felt as if he had already been asked every question I might pose.

I took a seat on the curb beside him, turning my head away to the right. My vision blurred as my eyes began to film over with the familiar sting of tears. I glanced down at my arms draped over my bent knees, my head constricted so tight, as I helplessly rocked back and forth. Each moment was accompanied by a growing scream of agony that swelled through my chest. I wanted to speak to the man beside me. I had so much to say, yet I couldn't find the words. I had asked him questions before, just not like this. Never had I seen him so clearly, nor known him to be so old and motionless. I wanted to scream at him, shake him, beg him to speak. He was supposed to show me something. Someone had to show me something. But my chest felt swollen, my throat burned, and my mouth wouldn't open.

The old man broke his stillness only to turn his head to the right. Following his gaze, I saw a train emerging from the fog in the distance. My heart sank into the hollow floor of my chest as the train grew larger to my eye. "I don't want to go on," I mumbled as I closed my eyes. Its silver steel and charcoal black exterior lined the edges of an unforgiving industrial mass of force. The brakes screeched against the tracks, and two loud blasts of pressurized steam fired from the cylinders. A brief silence followed, underscored only by the low rumbling hum of the engine and the heavy wind still blowing from the east. Time seemed to stop with the train, as I hesitated to move from the ground.

For a second, it seemed as though this wasn't my train. Then, from the left corner of my eye, I saw the old man slowly stride past me toward the train, his long, wispy gray hair trailing behind him. Taking his lead, I listlessly followed, like a crumpled page carried by the wind.

 

[justwannadip]

Body dysmorphia - a poem

I extend, in hopes to come towards

A place I never knew

A beggar who gives his last dime to the painter

Paint me through your eyes

Though you do not know me

I feel safe.

Describe but do not show

I'll lend you one ear

Be sure it will pass through the other

You finish the last brush stroke

I'm beautiful, smiling, happy

I love it, I say.

Please paint me again

So you do

And just as quickly I forget

I have nothing more to give

You offer your hand for

Change

I cannot buy it

I know of others who will

I run far to hide though I've taken nothing

But your time

You regret you spent

I regret not spending

I take out the discarded canvas

The markings have faded

Its now only a mirror

Once again its all I see

Surrounded by mirrors

Ugly

Disgusting

I would smash them all to get through to you

"Don't leave me with them", I beg

I offer my hand

You're confused

I show but can't describe

You lend me one ear, the meaning passes through the other

I'm scared

Now you know me

my reflection stains her pupils

"A dime for your troubles"

she says as she drops it into my hand

 

[justwannadip]

I live with someone - a poem

When people ask me why I don't let them in
I say I live with someone
But u see he also doesn't really let me go out
Hes really not nice at all
Someone real nice got me away from him once.
Outside felt real good.
But I went back, I always do.
Sometimes, I don't know if I really left.
I tried to reach that someone real nice again, but we don't have phones here.
I'm not allowed that.
I heard its what people use to talk to each other these days.
I wish he'd let me have visitors.
Sometimes, I'm able to sneak them in
But insides not real nice you know
So they don't stay long
And I think he smells bad cus they always look real confused-like
Maybe I've gone a little nose blind
I don't let people in no more
Not after how angry he got the last few times.
Last time I tried to scream for help
But screamin scares a lot of people

People don't wanna come in no more, when they know I live with someone
People stopped asking me why I don't go out no more
They know I live with someone
You know, sometimes, i even think he wants me gone
But maybe that wouldn't be so bad,
cus then I wouldn't have to live with someone.

 

[VampQueen]

Cut
Cut,cut,cut,cut,cut
I cut my arms into bite sized pieces
Please put this mental anguish to rest
Cutting is the only thing that can make it better
The warm feeling of my dark red blood falling down my arm
The euphoric feeling I get in my head
It's all but not enough at the end of the day
But at least it keeps the thoughts at bay

Bridges
The night is dark
The only light source is given from the burning bridges
The ones that connect me to family and friends
But can I even call them that?
Whose fault is it that they are burning?
I'm looking for someone to blame for my loneliness
But the only person I see is myself with a torch in my hand

Crash
While in the day I'm alright
The night is when I get frightened
Stuck in my bed and can get out of my head
Who am I? Where is my life going?
What should I do? When should I give up?
All questions I ask myself every single night
It makes it hard to sleep
So I weep until I crash
Like a car you can no longer drive
Maybe one day I'll be happy being alive

 

[justwannadip]

Cut
Cut,cut,cut,cut,cut
I cut my arms into bite sized pieces
Please put this mental anguish to rest
Cutting is the only thing that can make it better
The warm feeling of my dark red blood falling down my arm
The euphoric feeling I get in my head
It's all but not enough at the end of the day
But at least it keeps the thoughts at bay

Bridges
The night is dark
The only light source is given from the burning bridges
The ones that connect me to family and friends
But can I even call them that?
Whose fault is it that they are burning?
I'm looking for someone to blame for my loneliness
But the only person I see is myself with a torch in my hand

Crash
While in the day I'm alright
The night is when I get frightened
Stuck in my bed and can get out of my head
Who am I? Where is my life going?
What should I do? When should I give up?
All questions I ask myself every single night
It makes it hard to sleep
So I weep until I crash
Like a car you can no longer drive
Maybe one day I'll be happy being alive

Thanks for sharing your poems! I relate to a lot of the themes, especially the one with burnt bridges. I'm a very visual processor so I can imagine things pretty vividly. I imagined in the blackness of night, a bunch of bridges burning, some bigger than others. And I'm stranded on my platform, torch in hand, stuck, not being able to move. The torch I carry, responsible for the damage, is the only way I see in this pitch black landscape, but it also destroys every bridge I cross. All the bridges I've set fire to will just continue to burn me now. But theres no path to move forward anymore. So I just watch as the bridges burn and fall to the infinite depths below.

 

[Edpal247]

I'm a musician(was) - did a little touring. Also a hot glass artist.

I used to think, I knew the way
the world was all worked out.
I could push, and get my way,
of this I had no doubt.
Things I've seen, made me stop,
And wonder if there's more.
Statistically, the mysteries,
all seem well arranged.

[Chorus]
Clearly -something big is outside of me.
Clearly - I don't control, my very day.
Clearly - something big resides inside of me.
Clearly - I'm not alone.

Heavens vast, and still we find,
the order just repeats.
Celestial vibes, counting time,
in a steady beat.
Some discard, out of hand,
That something lit the fuse.
But to me, reality,
Doesn't make me choose!

Clearly - there's something bigger outside of me.
Clearly - I don't control my every day.
Clearly - something big resides inside of me.
Clearly - I'm not alone.

No pop quiz, no exam,
write your answers down.
Talk in peace, compare notes,
ask others what they've found.
Some will say, they found the way,
Oth-ers laugh and say they're blind.
All I ask, is on your way,
you keep a loving open mind!

 

[Silent_cries]

I live with someone - a poem

When people ask me why I don't let them in
I say I live with someone
But u see he also doesn't really let me go out
Hes really not nice at all
Someone real nice got me away from him once.
Outside felt real good.
But I went back, I always do.
Sometimes, I don't know if I really left.
I tried to reach that someone real nice again, but we don't have phones here.
I'm not allowed that.
I heard its what people use to talk to each other these days.
I wish he'd let me have visitors.
Sometimes, I'm able to sneak them in
But insides not real nice you know
So they don't stay long
And I think he smells bad cus they always look real confused-like
Maybe I've gone a little nose blind
I don't let people in no more
Not after how angry he got the last few times.
Last time I tried to scream for help
But screamin scares a lot of people

People don't wanna come in no more, when they know I live with someone
People stopped asking me why I don't go out no more
They know I live with someone
You know, sometimes, i even think he wants me gone
But maybe that wouldn't be so bad,
cus then I wouldn't have to live with someone.

Omg! This is so good! This is like anxiety, ocd, psychosis and depression simontaniously. In fact, this describes numerous mental illnesses. Mental illness rly be like that. Mine even tries to make me hurt people sometimes...

For real though, you're so talented!

Btw, thanks for making this thread! I'll be sharing my writing here for sure. :)

 

[VampQueen]

Red Shores

It's a punishment yet a treat to myself.
The cold metal edge rushing through my skin.
There's a flash of white just before a flood of red washes the shores
The red waves on my arm overflows into the dark abyss beneath my arm, just above my lap.

 

[Silent_cries]

What they don't see

Drowning in this darkness,
I'm slowly fading away!
While all they do is stare at their phones every day.

They don't see what's going on right infront of their eyes,
The lost girl who just wants to be loved, who just wants to be noticed!

But the online world is their only world.

They all just escape reality,
while she is slowly dying inside.

The day she's gone they'll all be mourning,
If only they had put that phone down to see the girl in pain right in front of them.

But it's too late.

She died this morning.

 

[justwannadip]

I'm a musician(was) - did a little touring. Also a hot glass artist.
View attachment 145041
I used to think, I knew the way
the world was all worked out.
I could push, and get my way,
of this I had no doubt.
Things I've seen, made me stop,
And wonder if there's more.
Statistically, the mysteries,
all seem well arranged.

[Chorus]
Clearly -something big is outside of me.
Clearly - I don't control, my very day.
Clearly - something big resides inside of me.
Clearly - I'm not alone.

Heavens vast, and still we find,
the order just repeats.
Celestial vibes, counting time,
in a steady beat.
Some discard, out of hand,
That something lit the fuse.
But to me, reality,
Doesn't make me choose!

Clearly - there's something bigger outside of me.
Clearly - I don't control my every day.
Clearly - something big resides inside of me.
Clearly - I'm not alone.

No pop quiz, no exam,
write your answers down.
Talk in peace, compare notes,
ask others what they've found.
Some will say, they found the way,
Oth-ers laugh and say they're blind.
All I ask, is on your way,
you keep a loving open mind!

This is awesome. I'd love to hear some of your music if ur comfortable. Going on tour sounds like a fun experience !

Omg! This is so good! This is like anxiety, ocd, psychosis and depression simontaniously. In fact, this describes numerous mental illnesses. Mental illness rly be like that. Mine even tries to make me hurt people sometimes...

For real though, you're so talented!

Btw, thanks for making this thread! I'll be sharing my writing here for sure. :)

Thank u so much! And ya its basically all my major disorders into one entity. Mostly bpd and ocd tho, a fkn nightmare. Thanks for your support, it means a lot, and pls do share here as often as you'd like!

What they don't see

Drowning in this darkness,
I'm slowly fading away!
While all they do is stare at their phones every day.

They don't see what's going on right infront of their eyes,
The lost girl who just wants to be loved, who just wants to be noticed!

But the online world is their only world.

They all just escape reality,
while she is slowly dying inside.

The day she's gone they'll all be mourning,
If only they had put that phone down to see the girl in pain right in front of them.

But it's too late.

She died this morning.

This poem paints emotional neglect rlly well. Always desiring the love you didn't receive. Thx for sharing

 

[Silent_cries]

This is awesome. I'd love to hear some of your music if ur comfortable. Going on tour sounds like a fun experience !

Thank u so much! And ya its basically all my major disorders into one entity. Mostly bpd and ocd tho, a fkn nightmare. Thanks for your support, it means a lot, and pls do share here as often as you'd like!

This poem paints emotional neglect rlly well. Always desiring the love you didn't receive. Thx for sharing

I'm not technically being neglected though, but it sure feels like society is neglecting me sometimes ngl. Tbh I was upset when I wrote this as I had been having a rough time and tried to do something fun with some friends to cheer me up just to have them be all caught up in their phones not noticing me at all. I made it as a reminder to those who prioritize their phone over those around them that there could be someone right infront of their nose who is struggling and could need their support that they could have the chance to be there for if they just put their phones down. Ppl are way too caught up in their phones nowadays tbh.

I have been neglected in the past though, so maybe it is appropriate after all.

 

[Silent_cries]

Sometimes my entire life feels like a lie, but then I realize that I live a lie bc society taught me so. I've been taught to live a lie, just to survive bc society can't handle the truth.

 

[justwannadip]

If anyone makes music here or writes songs pls message me! I write melodies and would love to collab (or just get constructive feedback) :)

 

[_AllCatsAreGrey_]

I appreciate this thread. I went to art school. I had a major episode and attempted ctb right before my senior year. I tried to finish the degree, but missed some required credits. That was over a decade ago. I've always felt like a failure for not finishing.

I haven't made any formal art since. Meaning art I'd call art. I still do little creative things, but honestly kind of scared of putting myself out there now. I've been thinking of my old work and considering ways to do something now.

This was a piece I did in school after my ctb attempt. It's called A Brief Survey of Voluntary Death. It's one of my favorite things I made while in school. It's a simple wooden box that contains 19 6.5" x 6.5" prints on paper of various people who have ctb and dance macabre art. The reverse of the prints have typed text that includes details about the people, occasionally including things like suicide notes, and various quotes about suicide.

The box and the prints were treated to accentuate the tactile nature of the materials. The intended viewing would be allowing individuals to go through the prints and reflect. The box contains a print of a self portrait and details about my own attempts and how I made the piece to process my own feelings toward suicide.

 

[justwannadip]

I appreciate this thread. I went to art school. I had a major episode and attempted ctb right before my senior year. I tried to finish the degree, but missed some required credits. That was over a decade ago. I've always felt like a failure for not finishing.

I haven't made any formal art since. Meaning art I'd call art. I still do little creative things, but honestly kind of scared of putting myself out there now. I've been thinking of my old work and considering ways to do something now.

This was a piece I did in school after my ctb attempt. It's called A Brief Survey of Voluntary Death. It's one of my favorite things I made while in school. It's a simple wooden box that contains 19 6.5" x 6.5" prints on paper of various people who have ctb and dance macabre art. The reverse of the prints have typed text that includes details about the people, occasionally including things like suicide notes, and various quotes about suicide.

The box and the prints were treated to accentuate the tactile nature of the materials. The intended viewing would be allowing individuals to go through the prints and reflect. The box contains a print of a self portrait and details about my own attempts and how I made the piece to process my own feelings toward suicide.

View attachment 145614

This is fascinating. Thank you so much for sharing. I'm so glad that you gathered the courage to share your art again. I really hope that you are able to continue making art again, I can tell it means a lot to you. I think art that expresses things like suicide and mental health struggles can be extremely powerful. Know that you can always share your art here!