I try and stay out of my mind,
Because it’s filled with snapshots of you.

I walk into my room
To find pieces of myself
Scattered on
Discarded
Scraps of paper.

Photoshop.
Make up.
Filters.
You.

Reconnecting,

Our hearts.
Through descriptions of our days.

I get ready for work,
once again repeating my well worn schedule.
pants.

shirt, unkempt.
the hills and valleys of the creases resonating with my soul.
emotions.
my body tight in its embrace.
a choreograpged symphony.
the world will look and see an unkempt shirt.
but I see a reflection of my soul.

tie.
socks.
shoes.
go.

: I radiate through your gloomy days ‘n haze (
‘
: My smiles help you through your depressing mondays (
: Sunshine from your beautiful essence, perfume, and your natural presence (
: And as I write this poem, with you in mind, your words play upon. constantly. all night (
: D

I contain my ways,
in silence.
in secret.
just so,
my name can be remembered,
just so,
my soul won't be ******.

I lay on my bed,
Complete. Darkness.
Pondering on what has,
And what can be.

I lay on my bed.
Thankful.
That tomorrow will bring new fruit
And todays suit can be shed
For the delights that lay ahead.

Crashing.
not because of coffee,
but You.

Toady. I have changed.
I have decided, to stop questioning it all …
And just say, yes.

You say you don’t want to “push me away.”
yet,
every.
single.
day.
You squeeze me out of that little spot in your heart,
And as I watch It fill up with the,
Joys of another.
I go back into my little           -corner-
                       -contemplating-
                       -secluded-
          *#(-alone-)#

I am not a slave, no.
Yet,
I am enslaved
By the:
Systems which you created
The history which you teach me
the name which you give me because mine is "too hard" to pronounce

I am not a slave, no.
But I am enslaved
By the societies which you have created that does not allow me to spread my,
Beautiful.
Black.
Wings.

I am not a slave, no.
My ancestors just made the wrong choice.

This taxi is like no other.
Usually there’s the…
Incandescent chatter of two souls discussing their voyage among the cosmos,
With under lying tones of music being played too loud,
While the engine matches this tune as it gears,
1,
2,
3.
Silence.
Alone with my thoughts.

‘fix yourself.’ he exclaimed
‘Implying that I’m broken?’ she thought
But because she was black
She went back
To her confined lack

Ghetto.

Where she began to fix herself.

Foundation
Eyeliner  
Eyeshadow
Mascara
Blush.

oh you’re so beautiful'

in the end i wish to be remembered...
maybe not by all but at least in my little corner of the internet.

There she was,
Angelic,
In her dress,
Light bouncing off her caramel skin.
Inviting.
THE Perfect Moment.
ruined,
by my fear of the future.

A truly great ~promotional item~war hero.
He grew our ~businesses~ country.
A true ~capitalist~ philanthropist in every sense of the world.
You’ve left a mark on our world.
You will be greatly missed.

I am a born free.
From the shackles of
apartheid
Yet, I complain,
About experiences I’ve never had.
Am I truly
Born free ?