Sinful White Linen

Laying in sinfully white linen,

Covering the remains of my body,

Which are drenched in sex and loneliness.

 

Unable to fathom the debt I paid for love,

Because no one is able to hold me once you’re gone.

Not only am I swimming in your sweat,

I’m drowning in thoughts of you,

Unable to utter another man’s name.

Unable to spit out the sins I effortlessly swallowed last night.

Unable to get you out of my head…

 

Because the Coffee I wanted so bad,

Landed up being the Coffin I eagerly buried myself in.

 

I can’t help but reminisce about how bad I longed for your kiss,

The same kiss which happened to suck out my soul, along with my logic.

I am as unfamiliar with my surroundings as I am to myself.

 

A constellation of regret lays swift on my window seal,

As I did on the bed, waiting to be consumed by your darkness,

Because the stars and I aren’t strangers to the one thing that makes us Come alive…

14/03/2016

My heart has taken a lot of blows in one month alone
It’s too heavy to carry
I just pounce around like I’m unaffected 

convincing myself nothing is wrong

I wake up and all I can think is
“I fasted- my faith should be stronger than ever…

Things of the flesh will not affect me.”
So I don’t bother unpacking my tears 

And I don’t allow myself to feel the tides brush up on cheeks.
But there’s always that one moment where you choke, and oxygen becomes hard to swallow 
That moment of release feels so so sweet

Where all facial fluids release, 

where exhaling occurs after every short 5-8 inhales 

And everything about crying feels so damn good…

You don’t want to stop –

Just like the bad things don’t.

Trapped 2

My heart is heavy 
                                and I don’t want to wake 
up along side the sun…
I want my body to be buried beneath many moons-

               

                until I’m able to find my smile again.
                       It hurts-
                                        It hurts everywhere.
The weight pressing on my chest isn’t anxiety, 
                       it’s my soul feeling trapped.

Throwback 

   
I came across this piece just now and I was completely unaware that I wrote it, until I was half way through. 

In those seconds, it dawned on me how unbelievablely easy it was for me to write about topics I had absolutely no idea of.

Now, that I’m learning to be aware of my emotions, writing has become such a foreign talent of mine.

Long story short, I can finally relate to what what I used to write about and now that I’m experiencing it, I find it difficult to write.

I don’t do intimacy with strangers 

And although they don’t know the depths of my soul 

Parts of them wonder about me when they’re alone

Lip locking with my chakras 

Because their “hellos” don’t sound like echoes 

There’s more behind it

It’s not emptiness built on nothings.
And although I may not want anything  to do with the person

Parts of me remain

Where we last met

Holding parts of what’s left

Because I know they’ll return 

No one wants to leave remains of themselves 

At places that don’t feel like home