I want my love back.

I want my ghosts to possess my lungs - resuscitate my ancestors while I breath in laughter.

For the ball inside my throat to hurl fire - to make love to the sun
scare shadows
intimidate death and
offend darkworkers.

A love where God’s water breastfeeds me at the bottom of the ocean - baptising my blood and transforming my saliva into gold.

Love me. Want me. Find me.

Give, it, back.

I want my love back

A love where God’s water breastfeeds me at the bottom of the ocean - baptising my blood.

Transforming my saliva into gold.

A chaos has been birthed inside of me.

It’s Ghosts, playing hopscotch.
My Heart, fighting against lung.
The Blood, making out with startdust.

A destiny wishing to reform itself
trying to recognise its name
smile at its reflection.
A natural disaster beginning its annual cycle inside of me.

Inside of you.

Like how Summer recognises Autumn’s leaves,
it’s twiggy branches letting go of its maroon mascara.
Stripping itself bare of past fantasies and love.

An internal hazard that dances for the Gods inside of you.
The ones yet to be discovered.
The ones yet to be explored.

So, retract
unclip your wings and reopen your cave of comforting darkness so as to rediscover the light again.

Soon...
It’s soon...
You’re soon.

Soon, my love.

Your shadows clock in for their shift at 12 o’clock... at night

Hanging it’s cloak on your happiness and lying luxuriously on your chest. Their hours stealing your dreams and numbing them into painful memories.

We become a bath of obsession and depression
Our tears spelling out the words that our throats cannot read
We are an ocean of misled, overthought fantasies
A nation of unspoken miseries .

Our bones, rubbing against each other

Getting lost in the darkness of our humane cast
Trying to find themselves.
Itself.
Trying, to, rediscover the stories that make you one
Trying to align your purpose
But...
The shadows have won.

So you create a new self. A version that breathes in the heavy smoke that is your emotions.
A hemisphere where your shadows are your friends.
Buddies that allow for the dark half of your minds to dance in the abyss
Play in the dark
And whimper about the stories folded in your heart.

Sleep, my child.
Rest, my love.
Crumble, darling.
Be reborn, sweetheart.
Sleep,
Sleep.

I will whisper stories into your ear so potent with love, that you can taste them.

The same way you taste the colours that dance in the sky.

The same way you taste your dreams during your high.

The same way you ******* lips.
The lips that whisper stories in your ear...

I lay my scalp to rest.
The cushions below it comforting my thoughts and caressing my dreams.
The mattress allowing my guardians and demons to sweep away the dust between my ribs
the webs under my skin.

Home, is where my spirit sleeps.

Where my thoughts become a whimsical fantasy
Where my reality is engulfed within the galaxies

Home, is a place that I cannot see.

A foreign land that feels like my great grandmother's hugs and my mother's cries.
The sphere where my screams match the symphonies that echo through the thick breath of the unknown.
A place where my tears match the rumbles of Kwamata's abode.

A realm where I touch God,
where he kisses my cheeks and reorganises my destiny
through every snooze
every snore.

Home, is where I humbly die and rise.
Home, is where my colourful insides fly.
Home, is the sanctuary between my eyes.