The year has barely began
But I already have secrets I’m planning on keeping

Secrets about people who have never been a part of my everyday life
But have a huge part of me

The type of secrets that do not allow me to make homes of people
For my sanity and safety

The sun rises with my insecurities
And maybe that’s why I hate summer
But this summer will be different
I’ll make memories that no one knows about
Memories that solely belong to me

Because no one has ever unfolded my bare human soul and known me beneath my bones

21 has proved to me, that I deserve so much better
22 will be filled with moments like a white petalled Lotus waiting for consciousness to bloom

I’ll take these secrets 6 feet under
Because there were times when those dear to me knew how I felt
And it was hell for them

I sit here
Fully aware
That there is no way out
And that you don’t meet people by accident
And even after you cut ties with the past
(If you’re not the only person the past involves)
It will still haunt you

And once I’m done with all these secrets
I’ll learn more about silence
And write a novel about all the things people don’t say.

please note that it was my intention to exclude the necessary punctuation.

Already 6ft Under

Perhaps the death of my aunt made me completely stop believing in forever.
I swear you never know death until it discreetly enters your home and slowly destroys the one thing you love the most.

I swear I saw him drag the life out of her eyes.
That scumbag spat on her like wild mushrooms had already viciously covered her decomposed body.                                       
I could no longer feel her touch.
Her kisses where just dust.               
Death was robust in her bones.  
Her lust for life, was as hard as stone.

I would constantly feel wings brushing my side and my back.
Smell her scent, look around but find her 20 metres away just laying on her back watching her life wither away.

It was fucked up how he left her with her heart beating.
How dare he take her soul and leave me with a lifeless body.
Ahhh man, death is the devil himself.


♥ Kamiz


Pen as Razor
Paper as Skin
Writing across my arm
Just for the thrill

Emotion as blood
As I let it all pour out
Hope one day they’ll see.

My poem as Life
I wanna do it right
Pen please don’t fail me..

Posting-It-Up as Death
It’s finally out
Hoping they’ll remember me…

Now the whole world gets to see…
My pain
My suffering
The tears that I’ve cried
& how hope almost failed me.

This paper was gonna be read by the person who would’ve been a second too late to save my life…
But instead this paper saved me…

I no longer hold onto the pain
I jus grab a pen
I’m able to write my problems away…
Cut it up!
Burn it!
Stab it!
Do whatever want…

This is a story about how poetry saved my life…

♥ Kamiz