Starry's Confessions

S. K. Jackson



Seek Beneath the Debris

Turned myself, inside out, so you could see

That there is life, beneath this piece of universe debris

Once connected, we fell and scattered over the earth

Only to start the journey of discovery at birth

Funny how we feel a magnetic pull towards certain souls

And how confusing and complicated we make it all

I guess I was hoping you would find inside of me

Something you lost and now craved to be part of thee

Written by S. K Jackson

Between rays of light and the darkness

Between rays of light and the darkness. She stood.
In midst of her reaping.
Sacrificing her sorrow, as her happiness was taken.
She is now a barren land, waiting to be nurtured. She is an empty vessel, waiting for a new beginning. Between rays of light and the darkness. She stood.

Between rays of light and the darkness. She stood.
The world turned the key whilst her back was turned.
She displays her ideas on her prison wall.
Preaching her heart. Her passion can’t be ignored.
She is now a creative essence seeking meaning. Detaching her ego, waiting for a new beginning. Between rays of light and the darkness. She stood.

Written by S.K. Jackson

Me & Melancholy

Hello Melancholy!

I wasn’t expecting you.

It is good I have my pen and paper at the ready.

I guess it’s that time again.

So let’s play, and decorate the darkness.

If I had more time today,

we could dust the debris of life

with the strumming of the guitar.

Or watch water and colours merge and seperate, to make pretty patterns.

But today we play the game I feel most vulnerable.

But the one that gives you, a great sense of release and freedom.

So let’s crack open my heart and mind.

Feel my thoughts and feelings run to each other again.

Such romance. Such pain.

Turning these visions to words can hurt at first.

So much confusion you transform to understanding.

And I am not afraid to admit, being lost in confusion and illusions,

is a place, a girl like me easily gets trapped in.

How do you find me? How do you pull me back to reality?

You are a good friend. One that people misunderstand. Not me. I love you.

I guess the Artist or Idealists must be your favorite companion.

We do complement each other.

We see perfection in life’s blemishes and flaws.

How mad is that?

Together we create perfection out of madness.

I must thank you for holding my hand while I write.

However, let’s remember to not leave me left open and exposed.

You know I love you but it is time for you to go.

Sorry you can’t linger forever.

But Happiness always follows you and we need time together.

Written by S.K. Jackson

Cookie Jar

She sat in the corner of his eye
Waiting for her time to be his focus

She could give a piece of her heart
Fight for his attention with the other roses

His mind lights the tracks to a journey she likes to get lost in

To see their minds in transit feels like a sin

Should she open up her cookie jar
And allow him in?

Written by S.K.Jackson

Should I Cross the Line?

A target on my lips.
His kiss; sets off the conflict in me.
The spirit, the love, verse the sexual addiction, and need in me.
My body cries to be touched.
My soul desire to be took.
My heart wants to be loved.
My mind needs to shut the fuck up.
The temperature rises.
I pull him to my depths.
I’ve made too many mistake, for this to turn out to be right.
I know this night could haunt me.
And I don’t want anymore visitors, leaving parts of themselves, under my skin.
So should I cross the line, in the hope my judgement is right this time.
Could he be the one or just another foolish mistake.

Written by S.K.Jackson

Just a Feeling

A cloud with constant rain.

My heart loves to yearn.

And I don’t know how,

you get inside to wake me up.

My feelings you never mock,

As you scan through my collection.

There is a warmth with your existence.

A light that penetrates without touch.

My fascination for you, skips to where you are.

As the depth that others fear in me, seems to be your favourite toy.

So I find joy in those little moments, you can spare.

As your words of wisdom, educate, and fill in the holes in me.

But my lips will stay shut…

As life is complicated enough

And I don’t understand the truth behind this admiration for you.

Because you’re kind of  a stranger. You’re kind of a friend.

You are kind of a beautiful feeling,

I hold inside,

where the sadness ends.

Written by S.K. Jackson

Bitch Bite the Bullet

He opens me up.

Inserts his pistol in my mouth.

Penetrating the hole.

My heart hangs in his shadows.

The darkness becomes my lover

I take it; here comes the rain.

I take it; here comes the pain.

The bullet; the contradiction of me living and my demise.

My soul swims in this blue haze

I am lifeless in his grip.

Just a vice to bring pleasure to his dick.

I am nothing. I lay for nothing. I belong in the darkness with nothing.

And the darkness sees…

…I am only worth nothing.

And I cum like a good girl.

My eyes hold on to a flicker of light.

It breaks down my walls.

I allow the light to take me.

Pushing through my skin.

The fear. The wanting of the light. It slowly melts the bullets, he hid under my flesh.

And I now find I have a bigger weapon.

A more powerful gun, that resides within.

And the nothing is where I was placed.

Not who I am.

And now I see…

…my only protection from him..

…is me.

Written by S.K. Jackson

My Love…Did I Miss You?

My love…
How do I find you?
I have seen glimpses of you in other men.
The longing inside creates a desire immeasurable, like the sinking depths of the ocean.
To surrender to you and drown in the current of your beating heart, could only break my cage so I am free.
You are hidden and while you are kept out of reach, I start to believe you aren’t real.
But I can feel your existence.
..did I miss you?

Written by S.K.Jackson

Ode on Melancholy by John Keats


No, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist

Wolf’s-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;

Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss’d

By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;

Make not your rosary of yew-berries,

Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be

Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl

A partner in your sorrow’s mysteries;

For shade to shade will come too drowsily,

And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.


But when the melancholy fit shall fall

Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,

That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,

And hides the green hill in an April shroud;

Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,

Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,

Or on the wealth of globed peonies;

Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,

Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,

And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.


She dwells with Beauty – Beauty that must die;

And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips

Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,

Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:

Ay, in the very temple of Delight

Veil’d Melancholy has her sovran shrine,

Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue

Can burst Joy’s grape against his palate fine;

His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,

And be among her cloudy trophies hung.

*Please see below my summary and thoughts:

No, no, go not to Lethe,

Keats opens the poem telling the reader not to go to Lethe. This was one of the many rivers of Hades in Greek mythology. The dead are obliged to drink from this in order to forget their thoughts, their words, and all aspects of their life while they were alive. He is telling us not to turn to suicide, even though we suffer from sadness and pain, because it is surely better to live through this than to be in complete oblivion. Keats also advises the reader not to numb the feeling of depression with poison or drugs.

He talks about how it is better to acknowledge melancholy, and even to feed it. He describes melancholy as a ‘weeping cloud’. I feel that he is saying that melancholy nourishes the soul, just like the rain, which revives the drooping flowers. So we should allow ourselves to cry and feel sadness so we can feel revived and move forward with a stronger spirit.

You’ll notice in the last verse that Keats personifies beauty, melancholy, pleasure, and joy (look for the capital letters). He has given these feelings a god/goddess quality and say’s that Melancholy reside in the temple of Delight. An odd place to put Melancholy, perhaps, but he is trying to make the reader see that one should delight in melancholy. He states that she (Melancholy) dwells with Beauty, and that Joy’s soul shall also taste her might. Keats goes on to say that we all know that Beauty dies; that Joy leaves; and that Pleasure can turn to poison. They are forever changing in us. But all are necessary, because, for us to taste great joy, we must understand sorrow. One cannot exist without the other.

This poem transcends Keats’s existence; it is still relatable today. He has given us a good lesson here. Melancholy is something we should acknowledge and enjoy; allow ourselves to become her victim, find pleasure in her and treat it as a test. Don’t end your life. Your existence is important, even if others cannot see that or this world makes you feel you aren’t worthwhile. You are. We must seek beauty and joy in Melancholy, and understand she will come and go in life.

So, use her, as Keats did and many other artist do. Use her. Create something from her. She is shown at her most radiant through poetry, music, and art.

 Starry (S.K.Jackson)

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