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Mia Taljaard Feb 2019
an unending reach of complete and utter dismal
a broken bottle of wine in a bin of a inebriated disputant
To be invisible and suffocate in a crowd of laughter
fallen like foot soldiers on the fields the fought for

to cover every piece of skin and mirror with dark cloths so my eyes can not see the deceiving broken body that leads me deeper into the abbeys of
Mia Taljaard Jul 2018
Midnight surrounds us
We walk the streets under fading streetlights
Placid exteriors and unfazed mannerisms
Yet our eyes see through the other's cloak
Shattered and fractures, bare and inflamed

Two souls cut from the same cloth
Mia Taljaard Jul 2018
You're holding onto me
Deep breaths of sleep a show of slumber
My name passes your lips
The small whisper vanishes in the breeze
In one breath you have me sobbing
Are you just an seraph
Or have I just been dancing with demons all along?
Mia Taljaard Jul 2018
You are an artist
You do not move a brush to a canvas
You do not find the beat or breath of the music to sway to
You do not strum the strings of the exhaling instrument
You do not lift the roof with your voice as you sing
You do not catch an audiences applaud with your acts and rolls
You do not build beauty with your hands to shape something magnificent

You are an artist
You paint me as a dream even as I see my flaws beneath the oil paint
You sway me and you lead me as we dance to the melody of falling in love
You play my heart string for string and I might have thought you've been playing all your life
You sing me the aubade of memory and I fall again and again
You play the role of not a prince but a knight in my dream as we fight the ongoing battle of life back to back
You have used your hands to caress what you call God's Work Of Art and called me breathtaking by every shape and curve, so you whisper sweet sweet things to me.

You are an artist to my heart
Mia Taljaard Jul 2018
You bound me too tight
Ropes burns my flesh
Crushing my bones
Pressing down on my lungs
I was unable to move
Everlasting battle to be unbound from your smothering existence in my life
Mia Taljaard Jun 2018
she always had cotton-candy colored hair
her skin was fair as if it had never seen the sun
she had big curious eyes and a soft heart-shaped face
I got the call this morning
she always had the sweetest laugh that always went so well with the pastel colored dresses she always wore  
I got the call this morning
and it's hard to imagine her now
to imagine such a beauty in a hospital bed
I can't tell...
what does 15 sleeping pills do to angels?
Mia Taljaard Jun 2018
her soul was stained
yet she scrubs at her body so red marks and scratches leave her body agonized
the clothes that hug her body is too tight
too close
the blanket she lays under is to heavy
too suffocating
the water that falls on her cries a river down her bare skin
is not enough to wash away the feeling

they say it take 27 days for your skin to replace itself
27 days and all the traces will be gone
but will that truly be the end of it
will it be gone
or will it appear with every touch
every little brush feels like a plagued memory
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