Tides & Currents

Ripened Desire. His love ran down my chin like juice from the pomegranate. I savoured every seed, looked up to see his ecstasy, syrupy sweet. When we locked eyes, we threw away all keys. I swear his gaze alone could bring me to my knees. A graze of my hand along the side of his neck, that was pretty much all it took to set his soul at ease. That kind of power is deadly, dangerous. When the pull is so strong that all resistance becomes weak. I would run to him now, but I’m not prepared to bleed. I only have a few more lives left in me. I’d be damned if I stay, damned if leave. So leave me right where I stand, don’t call out to me. All the memories I hold on to, where do I put them down? The bass of his voice, can I rid myself of the sound? The mischief of his smile and the furrow of his brow. Shit, I even romanticised the downward curl of his frown. The tides and currents we made. Happy to be a drop in his ocean. It’s my greatest strength and my worse vice. The way I studied him. To replay every conversation like a never ending melody. To still feel the warmth of his skin on bed sheets. Sights and Sounds, I can never forget. The Taste, Touch , Smell of someone I swore saw the human in my being. Martyrdom in the name of potential love, the only sacrifice both binding and freeing. Teach me to let it all go. Sweep it all away.

Reflections

9:37 pm. I’m alone

The call has just ended

With unresolved silence

From my side of the dial

Tone deaf and dumb

An uncertainty lingers

In the air from her

‘Goodbye, I love you, speak soon.’

Naturally I deal with these

Uncomfortable moments

Where I’m left with nothing

But self reflection and a

Dead battery the only way

I know how.

Cherry red lips

And a swivel of gloss

Stains the rim.

No drop will be left to

It’s lonesome tonight

There’s a Red Sea inside of me

Waiting to be parted

I dissolve into despondency

Inebriated therapy .

There are mistakes that I’ve made,

Risks that’s I’ve taken,

Sins I still seek atonement for,

And decisions I refuse to face

All screaming in

Harmonious discord

Why did I let it get this far?

If a sixth sense exists, and

A woman’s intuition is God

Then I have denounced both,

My own personal Judas.

Didn’t listen to my heart

Did what I was expected

Paralysed by parental pressure

When it was time to speak my truth

My backbone bent

Not strong enough to withstand

The commodity of my youth.

So they all laughed .

Laughs turned to horror

Horror turned scowls of disgust

Disgust to confusion

They must’ve thought me delirious.

When the jokes not so funny anymore,

‘Oh, she’s serious?’

Voices sink like quicksand.

People really look like places

When you’re lost.

A man can look like a home

When you think you have none .

Hollow inside

I allowed many to take up residence

Not even dead presidents

Could pay off the debts they raised

Imagine me, Almost 23.

And I thought I’d ruined my life

Thought I spoke up too late

Ran when the timing wasn’t quite right

A trail of breadcrumbs left

Still waiting on the mice

To take it all away,

Conceal my misguided steps

I was waiting for days, weeks ,

Months, a year later

And still left there standing

Still hoping to salvage my self before expiry

Eyes cast to the heavens thinking

Man, God must be tired of me.

Gave me so many exit plans

I stood dumbfounded at every door

Looking for ways out

Drawing circles on the floor

When momma hang up the phone

I didn’t know what to say anymore

Didn’t know my future

Didn’t know what I was doing

I let him change my name

Left to ruin

As if it made me any more of a woman

Signed my independence away

Blood stained calligraphy.

They say a man who finds a wife

Finds a beautiful thing,

But I wasn’t ready

So his blessing became my curse

Final chapter written in cursive

Open Endings still uncertain.

I can never really explain

Just how much it hurt,

Still I managed to claw my way

Through the dirt.

Sometimes the pain comes back to visit

Like an old time friend

Reminding me, Never. Never again.

If life was a lucid dream

I would’ve woken way sooner

Changed the narrative

Traveled the nine circles of hell

And bought back my soul

…Just 22 years old.

I’d tell her don’t slow down

It’s only just begun.

An Instant

They say if you go looking

Be prepared for what you may find.

Disclosure to Ignorance is as Sight to the Blind.

Be prepared, you may just despise what’s on the other side

Selfish curiosity turned slave to momentary pride.

Many know that melancholy can be oddly pleasurable.

Emotional extremities euphoria made immeasurable

Tethering on the edge of intrigue and it’s addictive

My curiosity finds it’s way back rather vindictive.

Disrupted hypothalamus, now how do I trust

I have a habit of prying my eyes open even when they’re not shut.

Extending myself, tearing through thresholds to see if new ones emerge.

The masochist in me says submit to every urge.

Usually I resist but in my moments of weakness

I’m left looking at the monster I’ve willed into existence

The thoughts go everywhere. Fugitives I’ll never find

Such an ugly use of an otherwise beautiful mind.

Call it brutal imagination. I still wonder why we do this.

In the ebb and flow of life

Some things remain superfluous

All I can do is wake up, make a change

See if I feel a difference

I’ve outgrown the myth of the Path of Least Resistance.

The sleep of reason doesn’t care either way,

So I soldier on in the dawn of a new day.

Thank You

If the unendurable is truly the beginning curve of joy, perhaps my salvation is just around the bend.

If the edge of sadness descends into the pit of a new dawn

Does my former self die to be reborn again ?

I’d like to shed my skin,

Reveal the vessel beneath this weathered

Flesh

As skin reveals bone

Surpassing my idea of self.

Avatars are deceiving

And many I have deceived.

Nothing here is good, nothing here is clean.

So patiently I wait to be remade again

Perhaps my salvation is just around the bend.

Doubtful Reverie

I hoped you’d take me home.

Usually I’d never be so blunt

About my expectations for fear

Of that double edged sword called

Rejection.

But hiding my intention

Has proven to benefit

All but I. See,

I can only steal so

Many glances, head on a

Swivel when you look my

Direction, before I fall off the

Edge of my seat.

Truth is a captive held

back by ivory bars

Of gritted teeth

And too much pride.

I want you.

I’ll never admit it.

Never really been one

At a loss for words but

What can I say?

You create in me double entendres.

Just a thought that

Perhaps you felt the same ,

There was a light in

Your eyes that I

Couldn’t quite gauge

Do I cast out my

Hopeful Net? Let you

Catch the bait or

Talk to your friend

Who’s enamoured by me

And just play it safe?

I wish I could go back in time.

I think I’ve said too much.

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡

“In Hell, in Hell there’s Heaven.”-Solo, Frank Ocean

To fall under your possession,

Surrendering free will

And biting my tongue

In response to

Your cruel affection.

The sweetest violation

the thrill of temptation

Acted upon without the

Slightest of hesitation.

I want to worship

At the head of your altar,

Where I end is where you begin

Two entities intertwined

In sensual sin

Teetering on the edge

Of Armageddon

My gates are open

Your residence is welcome .

♡︎

My Joy and My Melancholy

January 30, 2019: 

And as usual, he sits and waits for his nod of approval. The reciprocating stare that says, ‘Everything’s alright, all is forgiven. Immediate atonement to start again, all that allows him to continue as he is, never changing. To wreak havoc from the roof of his tongue again, to spew careless spillage from the wells of his mind. Destroying foundations that are already fragile, planted on shaky pillars. At the end of the day, he will always be forgiven, because to deny him that privilege would be nothing short of criminal, in the world that has been built to protect him at all costs. Finite.

And amidst all this, I love him more than I did yesterday.

Jo(h)n 16:12

Intertwined

Two wiry stems, in warm embrace

Colliding on the edge and

Tugging at the root

Equally yoked

We birth something new.

Hands graze over my shoulder

With a sculptors grace

Your fingers dance

Pirouettes across my neck

And I am afraid

To surrender

Like a flower of the mountain

Yes.

So I ask myself

Will I?

And my heart it beat

Right out of my chest.

And the blood that ran through my veins

whispered

I will

Yes.

 

 

Yellow

Somewhere, he is playing for me the world’s smallest violin

 

With a smirk on his face, and a laugh ready to escape from

the corners of his lips.

He laughs at me when I’m angry,

As if I am performing some pantomime

Finds amusement in my storms

The tsunamis that burst through dark brown dams

Trickling down sunken cheeks

Never concerned by the fact that I am clearly coming undone

Belittling of my emotions are a favourite past time

Trivialising my internal struggle is second nature

Because somehow, I am never allowed to be mad.

 

And the negation of that liberty

Has trapped me in the wallpaper.

 

Better Luck Next Time

I see things at the corner of my eyes

Where two roads meet.

I can’t seem to hold on

To your shadow long enough,

Savour the moments I can’t keep.

He disappears before

Lenses snap shut

Always slipping through

My pencil lead fingertips

Hands, hardened in frustration

Of lost oppurtunities

Figures of speech forgotten

In crumpled sheets

Gone all too soon.

No words will be exchanged today.