If you were any other girl I wouldn't be sitting on the floor
Beating my emotions till their blood forms the body of my writings

If you were any other girl
These drunk thoughts that stumble around my head wouldn't **** on my dignity because I wouldn't hate myself for not being good enough for you
Never being good enough For you

If you were any other girl
my heart's wrist wouldn't bleed after I embarrassed myself in my eyes in front of yours

If you were any other girl
The chamber in my heart labelled "later" wouldn't be overflowing
Each twisted emotion screaming for my blood...your love

If you were any other girl
I would be drunk now
But I am not because you...I cannot understand you when I've drunken myself into pitiful inebriation

Our little forest still stands.*

That day...You told me that the best way to make a decision was to flip a coin....because in mid air you know exactly what you want.
So I took that ten cent and I said that if it was heads then I'd kiss you...and that tails would leave us sitting there awkwardly

I flipped it and as the coin spun recklessly the racing airborne revolutions synchronised with my insistent heartbeat....and I kissed you, I swear I saw bright explosions as I experienced the softness of your lips on mine
You took the 10 cent coin and we Both kissed it then despite my disbelieving protests you threw it into the slithering undergrowth....never to be seen again
From that day on....we called it 10 cent Forest
And if I could go back I wouldn't change a thing...except maybe.......use a 5 Rand coin....Maybe if i did that then it would have been worth more than a single ******* kiss

Maybe then it would have meant more than a pitiful...******* kiss

Maybe then you wouldn't have ******* discarded what it meant, like a failed artwork, for a luckier-than-he-knows 'Player'

And as I attempt to adjust to breathing without air I realize that it was never about me. For you... It was all about you. Just like my art

I'm sitting alone
The half dead fire struggling to breath again a half empty bottle of water; not enough to **** it...
It's flames start once again...but small
Like tiny faeries dancing across the face of the embers hoping to let their passion ignite the memories of past
The faeries grow and as their brilliant vibrant life comes to an abrupt but equally gorgeous end they are consumed by young saplings of fire
Their children consume them as roots of coal give rise to stems of life.....
Fire-like life
Vicious...short...abrupt...extreme
Each flame- when slowed to accommodate our laborious minds- lives a life more vibrant than ours
A sizzle from the evaporating water heralds the arrival of a beautiful spire of intense heat
It burns....brighter than the sun but only for a millisecond...
Then...It dies...
And so does its comrades...
Until now... one solitary veteran remains...
He will not die
He will not wink out of eternal existence
He ensures that his memory is maintained by the life he leaves behind for new flame to arise
Like a phoenix incarnate the fire Roars! but only in a whisper
For this fire has seen it's end
Now Only the sad memories of orange-red embers remain hidden amongst the ashes
Soon the ashes will smother the remnanats of a once brilliant life
The fire: destroyed by its own product
It is no more
It's brilliance....eradicated...



I remember.
I rember your Brilliance.

A memory of a man
Suspended from the coarse necklace; a punishment for his sin.

Motionless weight, dead weight.

Silky tufts of trembling silvery hair;
The only sign of life's abandonment.

Gently as the blissful breeze blows it's protest-
An empty gesture of grace-
His once young locks...revitalised.

A thought; even a pitiful gale would fail to summon but the swaying of a blue headed pale bodied dead man.

It's 01:42 in the morning.
If you're still up....tell me why