She was an introvert once


But now


She talks a lot,
to distract people from looking at her face.

His arms feel like home,
When home doesn't feel like home.
His firm grip secures this body, this house that  many weird things reside in.
His lips are too good to be of human flesh.
They talk and kiss sense to me.
The little things matter to him
And for the first time ever in my life,
I need not to worry.
Need not to cry.
Need not to hurry.
Need not to shy.
A rate tall skinny totoro,
One that I get to call mine

Women in my family draw blood from their veins when the world is thirsty.
They cry a river and wash the people's clothes.
Their skin is the leather they sit on.
But the world gives nothing in return.
They breathe in carbon dioxide and give them oxygen because these women, all they know is to serve.
Their fingers have glittery precious chains.
This prison they live in their parents got wealth for.
But the world gives nothing in return.

For generations and generations, they are not tired.
And the world never, not even once, give something in return.

It is my fault i fell for your devious charms.
i loved the mystery and went digging in you, mine,
lucky me i found diamonds and kimberlites .
As the temperature rose up my alarm bells went off,
but the crowds calmed them down asking me how i landed such a lad.
Ego puts fear, paranoia and all gut instincts to sleep.
Your hand landed on my face one day,
sorry you had to pop my pimples unwillingly,
and i apologize for staining your hands with my blood.
I was researching on the number of women killed by their partners in South Africa.
Sorry i did not clear my history and you had to see this.
I apologize for giving birth to these beings, beautiful creatures we brought to life ,you and i, that now hate your guts just because they do not understand that it is my fault.
i lost another one yesterday when you gently slammed me against the wall because you didn't want to believe that he was yours as well.


so now  i write you this letter, read it to the crowds and tell them what a bad wife i had been.
tell them that i was weak, tell them i couldn't endure the hardships of this marriage and had an appointment with my maker.
Tell them i was useless.
cremate me and put my ashes in the trash bag.

it is all my fault and i apologize from the bottom of my heart.

They say it is the most painful way to die,
but i think it's the most excruciating way to live.
These files, these emotions, these people, temptations and Lord knows what else.
They drown you alive.

Just a little hug would suffice.
Let my heart know it doesn't beat alone.