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Oct 2020 · 92
Memory Dwellers
Attie Oct 2020
What's in a word?
A touch?
A secret shared?

We are weighed down by our vices
You sleep so you don't have to think
You keep busy so that you don't have the opportunity to think

What's in a word when words are all you have.

People talk too much
Oct 2020 · 86
Attie Oct 2020
You stare up at me with those hungry eyes, drinking me in.

Those rose-bud lips parted, breathless.

I will never get enough of your honey sweet nectar.

Everytime we undress I find a new freckle, a new undiscovered place.

Tracing the valleys of your hips, your waist.

Chest heaving, I open myself for you
Oct 2020 · 146
Bloom around me
Attie Oct 2020
I crave our touch more than I crave the fullness.

My arms reach out for you when you're not by my side.

Head on my chest, body under mine.

I like it when you look at me in that fascinating way.

Examining me so intensly

you come undone by my touch.

Shudder and bloom.

I ache for you.
Oct 2020 · 150
Attie Oct 2020
Look at you small lonely creature
prone and defenseless
Attie Oct 2020
TW- ed

I was shrinking and no one saw it
I was fading into the background and no one intervened
What do you do when no one is watching you dissolve into yourself?

They complimented my body
They validated my feelings of needing to be smaller
What do you do when you no longer feel hunger?

They fed into the story I wrote with comments about how good I was for not eating "junk" food.
What do you do when food becomes a fear?
Oct 2020 · 33
The story of us
Attie Oct 2020
I love your hands, solid and warm but also tender like a rose petal at dawn.
Your tender touch brings the broken parts of me home.
Your words of reassurance make the darkness stay at bay.

Sometimes I question what you saw or even what you see in me now to take the first plunge into the story of us.

When we didn’t speak I turned to mush , no words, no thoughts just a decomposing peach in place of my conscious mind.
No sleep, no appetite just the feeling of consuming emptiness.

Something changed in the chemistry, the bond we had.

This is the story of us, of who we were, who we have been and who we are now.
Oct 2020 · 44
I open myself to you...
Attie Oct 2020
We opened ourselves to eachother
like roses in the morning sun.

We traced the planes of our bodies
skin on skin.

You did not care about the self made valleys
nestled on my hip
my pelvis.

You love every inch of me
the good and the bad.

I open myself for you...
Jan 2020 · 412
Attie Jan 2020




                             ­          Spiralling



  ­                                                         Slowly




Jan 2020 · 194
My Best friend
Attie Jan 2020
She asked me once why no one loved her
She told me to describe what I found beautiful about her

How could I put into words the extent to which I loved her
So instead I kept my mouth shut

The expression on her face was one of disappointment, deflated even

If I could go back now and start over I would tell her that she is the ocean, uncontrolled and unpredictable

I would say that when she bit her bottom lip jackrabbits would start a frenzied dance inside my stomach

I would tell her that I loved the crows-feet by her eyes that crinkled with joy when I told corny jokes

But I can't go back so I sit in this dark room that I call my mind
thinking of all the times where I could've said I love you and I didn't
Jan 2020 · 168
Too Much
Attie Jan 2020
I am a river that's flooding
Too full overflowing with unshed tears

I am a fire-damaged tree
Unpredictable and prone to falling easily

I am a dead car on the side of the road
Sapped of all energy and motivation, tiring too easily

I am a half glass of water
Both too full and too empty at the same time

I am too much for my family

Too much for my friends

Too much for myself

So I internalize what's inside
My heart is heavy
Dec 2019 · 264
Social Comparison
Attie Dec 2019
I wish I were as gorgeous as her,
I'm her opposite

Rib cage like a python
Too pale

Frozen hands
Continuous tremors

I know I shouldn't eat
I'll feel guilty later

"You look great!", they say
I don't feel great

I feel empty
A hole inside my chest

The hunger pains progressing
I'm ok

Just a few more
Attie Dec 2019
I drip viscous honey from my lips
Soothing those who are broken

But when does the honey run out?
I feel as if manuka isn't always enough

When the hole inside of someone is all-consuming
When it cannot be filled

When a person fills the void with acrid bitter substances
Chasing the euphoria

We walk through life with honey dripping from our lips
Aug 2019 · 708
Attie Aug 2019
I am spiralling down a dark well
mortar and stone grazing my knuckles and fingers
in their desperate plea to find a crack
a divet
anything to stop the spiral
but I continue to fall
black upon black
grey upon grey
deeper and deeper
the water is at my ankles
sinking now
into putrid sludge of what I do not want to remember
swept into the dark ocean cave
of my mind
Aug 2019 · 327
5 kilograms
Attie Aug 2019
I have gained five  kilograms

My brain is buzzing

I need it to go

I just want to disappear

Make myself small

Find me in the space between strength and frailty

Strong yet weak
Aug 2019 · 399
A haiku about dreams
Attie Aug 2019
I dream of gold skies

A heart that is full of light

Lost in life's messy events
Aug 2019 · 442
Let us go into the field
Attie Aug 2019
Let us go into the field
where peonies bloom and the dappled sun hits our skin

Let us go into the field
where kisses are akin to blossoms in spring

Let us go into the field
where the apples of our relationship lay untouched and protected

Let us go into the field
where even on the slate grey rain kind of days we can lie together

Let us go into the field
where our story began and our complication began

Let us go into the field
where we can repair the torn seams in the fabric that was us

Let us go into the field...
Aug 2019 · 442
Ideal World
Attie Aug 2019
If someone were to ask me
what my ideal world would be
I wouldn't be able to answer.

There are no words to describe
how the rain fell that night
the bitter sting of hail on bare skin
summer attire.

That moment
that memory
is what my ideal world would be.

The overwhelming sensations
the sting of the harsh wind
the fireworks exploding behind my eyes as our lips touched.
Jul 2019 · 430
Attie Jul 2019
The ache in my stomach motivates me to keep going
The steadily decreasing number on the scale makes the hunger pains and sleepless nights, the bruises on my vertebrae

I slip up
I cry
The walls close in

The cycle starts again
Jun 2019 · 211
Rusting Love
Attie Jun 2019
I left my house again today
                                                                               much like the day before

Followed the trodden path of my memory
to the gates, I swore I would not enter any more

                                                        Your waiting hand was gone like that                                                                    
                                                         of the promises of a father who won't         come home

Grounded in place, the cast iron gate creaked and rattled with a passion that rivalled lovers who live apart

Forgotten I stood in the garden of our hearts
prone and lifeless

Yet I cannot let the letters go
the letters with "return to sender" in vibrant red ink

The letters that once tied us together
one human being connected by a delicate thread like that of spider silk

If I were to let you go and lock the cast iron gate with a heavy rusted padlock
it would mean locking away the parts of my soul that help me feel and connect
when will the yearning I have for you disappear, will it take years?
I honestly don't know.
but the stolen glances we share are an indicator of what we still feel for one another
Jun 2019 · 553
Attie Jun 2019
I want to slash at my skin with the same intensity that the beehive in my skeletal frame has when the worker bees attempt to seal all the broken parts of me sickly sweet

I want to scream so that It goes hoarse because if I’m not being heard what’s the point of having one anyway

I want to take the weight of their spines lift the broken onto my shoulders so that the shrapnel embedded feet they own no longer have to sink deeper
Embedded further

I want to feel love like the love my parents have in the subtle ways  that they check in on each other
In the small favours, they do for each other

More so

I want to hear her voice say the words I have always longed to hear the words that I know won’t be said the words that are difficult to comprehend
Attie May 2019
Always be on the lookout
In case someone sees you holding your girlfriends hand
Be wary of those who claim that god loves everyone but objectify you for your sexuality
Always maintain your composure when someone mentions the idea of your sexuality being a ‘kink’
And finally find your people
The ones who offer a rope down the dark well that is your mind
The ones who give you light
The ones who uplift

They tell you to not give in
And so far I haven’t
For that I am proud
May 2019 · 192
Attie May 2019
You told me your biggest secret
How proud of you I am

The fact that you trust me enough to spill what’s inside of you
The things that make you holistically who you are
I have seen what is nestled at your core as you have mine

So it makes sense as to why I feel sick a complete and utter sense of security when I’m with you

I crave your touch
Sometimes so intensely that a phantom burn runs through my veins like that of scalding coffee on a day where the sky cannot hold its tears in any longer because even the sky has days where the sun is but a small blinking dot
When darkness has crept in like that of a masked phantom

We understand each other
I’m a mutual relationship

But I ache for more
I ache so deeply that even my dreams are dominated by you

Your smile and the curve of your neck
Supple and untouched

Oh how I yearn for your touch
May 2019 · 186
Dust Storm Hearts
Attie May 2019
Ashen skies and dust storm heart
Departures aren't easy
They're hard
So hard

Better off they say
I don't think I can agree so freely
When the one who was your rock
And guardian angel has to die

The days get longer
The sun passes over the sky
To start afresh

I ask myself what you would do
Or what you would say in conversations or scenarios
The crumbling friendships and jeering

But I know I'll be ok
Even if today or another day I don't feel ok
Because life goes on
And it ***** but it's true

I'm just happy that I got to spend so many moments with you
Feb 2019 · 293
Attie Feb 2019
As I lay under sheets
My skin prickles
at the thought of your travelling hands
leaving a burn in all the points contact is made
at least that's would it feels like to me

what do the glances and shy touches do to you?
do you feel that same burn
that same sound of blood rushing through your ears when I'm around?

or do you feel nothing at all
in the heavy darkness when our breaths mingle
intertwined limbs and butterfly kisses against cheeks

the solidity of you grounds me in this world
I am reliant
on the brushing of hands when we cross each other's paths
the stolen glances across the room
more so,
the ever growing tension

I don't tell you these things
because I know that
the nature of our relationship is
strictly platonic
Feb 2019 · 218
Attie Feb 2019
I still text you , I know it's irrational
But when it comes to you , I forget all logic
Recently  Spoke about you,  I tried my best to be like you
I try to remember the good times  when you were a whole woman
Even in your weakest  days you were still an unwavering pillar
The  IV lines and the tiny black bag that contained the chemicals that appeared  to harm you
The first time  I lost my voice  you told me not to worry  , that even in the darkest times I would find it again
Even now I still remember  the words you would say to me
When they told me you passed away , I hid under neath the covers of my mother's bed alongside my sister and we held each other
It didn't sink in that you were gone until I attended the funeral
My heart sang for you as the champagne pink, wooden box was being lifted into the black car that had sealed your fate
The man with big hands and an even bigger heart remains
I want a love like you had
Feb 2019 · 162
Attie Feb 2019
Who decides my fate?

I am composed of two parts

My head and my heart

Logic against passion

My heart yearns for you

You, who's laughter is a cooling breeze

Against my bruised soul

It is the fear of rejection that holds us back

Meeting your family was terrifying

You make the steaming, heaving wreckage we call society

Seem whole again

Logic overrides passion

Longing remains
Sep 2018 · 314
Attie Sep 2018
it started in your bones
it ended in your heart
I miss your bright smile
I miss your cackling laugh
they told you it was time to say your last goodbyes
what do you do when your loved one dies?
you were a supernova in a world of stars
embracing everything that fell into your arms
the pears in the bathroom
the stuffed tigers on the shelf
its the story of my childhood
you taught me to love myself
an armchair and a gentle man
a woman full of joy
a godmother me
a  bakery near my home
the years grow in length, time passes
you're still gone
I haven't seen you in a while, I can't bring myself to see
the stone anchored in the ground where your head would be
do you still see us?
up in that heavenly place
do you still bless us, with your heavenly grace
I still message your phone
though I know you won't receive it
I can't bring myself to believe it
I've got the photos, the videos, and the proof
of a beautiful existence
but it's with a heavy heart that I say you're gone
it's not fair that you left so soon
so I close my eyes
and imagine you're in the room
Aug 2018 · 263
Puckered skin
Attie Aug 2018
The puckered skin is healing
it will stain my skin
like the other two
reminders of the shame I felt
the pain inside
and the war that was going on in my head
The puckered skin is healing
raw skin showing
pink in colour
soft to the touch
The puckered skin reopens
spilling its content
emptying my mind
startling clarity
The puckered skin reminds me
of days where I felt the world was against me
of days where my heart and mind were too full
filling me with a fire I could not extinguish
The puckered skin will heal
The puckered skin will heal
The puckered skin will heal
and once again
my heart will spill
ovals of puckered sin
ovals of puckered skin
Attie Aug 2018
A letter to the girl I love
The opening of my soul
She is the sensation of passing cars
Hard to grasp
Constantly moving
A flash before your eyes
She is the cooling rain that tears the sky in two
Rushing over me
Her very presence
But what a shame
That’s she doesn’t feel the same for me
Unrequited love
She is like honey and chamomile
Her very voice and laugh
Bringing me a sense of joy
I think I see it in her eye as well
Or do I ?
Aug 2018 · 254
Attie Aug 2018
when I get stuck in my own thoughts
deeper and deeper into my own head
the compulsions become stronger
five times five times five
I repeat until it feels alright
until the iron vest on my chest loosens
until my hands bleed from overwashing
I'm finally clean
until I slip further
and further again
Aug 2018 · 134
Attie Aug 2018
my patches make me who I am
they cover my tears
the blisters from ice cold stares
the scars from peoples words
my patches make you who you are
they make patterns on the unblemished skin
crisscrossing and overlapping
what do you do when there's no space left?
Aug 2018 · 443
Attie Aug 2018
I have done it again
I want to tear at my skin
I want to feel clean again
It coats my skin like dried nightmare induced sweat
yearning, reaching and shimmering
just out of my reach
It is a mirage
A trick on my mind
that sends all rational
out of the gaping, broken window
the shame-inducing sensation
fill my lungs with concrete
a frozen breath
unable to escape
the pain is a sharp distraction
acting as a reminder every time my sleeve brushes against it
I need help
Attie Jul 2018
he takes another drink from the brown bottle
his eyes inflamed and angry
broken yellowed teeth and cigarette butts
an angry man
stained  t-shirts
Lingering nicotine
a hopeless man
he's hurt again
the war broke him
gunshots still echo
Dust so thick you cannot see
the divorce broke him
A shell of a man
A wild man
but I can see him
in the cracks on his porcelain skin
The alcohol no longer seems to be running from his mouth
Convulsions have stopped
I can see his light
being born again
sometimes to help someone heal you have to make them take the first step
Attie Jun 2018
we are the dreamers
we are the lost people
wanting a light to guide
but unless
we riot and
fight for our rights
we can do nothing
you see
it takes an army
to win a war
but it can only
take one voice to
make an impact
Martin Luther King Jr
did just that
but why is it that in our
today can't stand up for what's ours
when a man
who had so little did so much
we need to take a stand to make what has the gone wrong right and it will be hard but to save what little humanity is left we must do so.
Jun 2018 · 259
One Voice
Attie Jun 2018
I am not the person I once was...

my skeleton has been molded to what society expects of me

my mind has mastered the art of secrets holding what I truly feel

my hands are worn down from gripping bed sheets in the middle of the night

afraid to


because the dark is not my friend

I am afraid of falling prey to those who dwell in the night

when in reality it is my mind

my a b s o l u t e  fear that feeds them

but no matter how hard I try


oh, I  t r y

I cannot overcome this
Apr 2018 · 342
Untitled 1
Attie Apr 2018
My fingers ache to reach over the table
To caress your oh so wavy hair
Short and soft
Your embrace is a wooden blanket
On a fourteen degree day
Thawing the parts of my soul that have been
Frozen and parched
Are a blistering heat
Compatible like two pieces
Of a puzzle
I know you do not feel the same
That ache I have
For you alone
Cannot be returned
I only watch from
Hoping one day
If I wait that little bit longer
That you may notice
The girl that stands by you
In times of need  
You are worth all of this and more
Nothing compares to you and your laugh or the way your hugs seem to be supercharged
Life giving even
Attie Apr 2018
If anger was a colour
what would it be?

stereotypical blush red
or would it be
the black slashes on a page

the its overs and the i'm sorry's

maybe its the grey of an oncoming storm
waiting for it to move on

If only it were that easy
to describe emotions
s  e  n  s  a  t  i  o  n  s
and feelings

but in reality
you can't

because we as human beings
are much more complex

we are the changing currents
and rolling waves

blending into one
Mar 2018 · 414
morbid confetti
Attie Mar 2018
can i turn back time
and start again
drown me in holy water
cleansing me from the inside out
let the ashes of my form
float like morbid confetti
over me
opening my mouth to catch
the part of me that
i once held dear
my blackened fingertips
reaching for the universe
hoping one day i can be
a part of that ageless space
drifting in a place i call
the neon hands of fate
just an inch away
but the gravity of my situation
pulls me deeper
in the sea of my consiousness
Mar 2018 · 158
Attie Mar 2018
Why do I always hold on
To grudges from my life
Pick up fours in uno
Harsh words in an argument
A stone in my heart
A ball and chain on my ankle
Bitter and moody
A storm cloud on a summers day
That doesn’t belong
In an otherwise perfect scene
Mar 2018 · 202
Another day
Attie Mar 2018
another day

i try my best

another day

i try again

another day

i tried my best

another day

just like the rest
Mar 2018 · 135
s l o w e r
Attie Mar 2018
cogs and bolts

turn in the space that is my brain

when someone sends a glare my way

the cogs turn

s l o w e r

who said you had to love me

who said you had to give me the world

no one but you and then

when i couldn't give back what you had given me

you left

you were done with nightmares and tangled sheets

panic and paranoia

but no matter how hard i try

i don't think i can get past loving you
Mar 2018 · 149
Attie Mar 2018
oh where has the sun gone

rain and spittle and mist

ice cold to the touch

it washes away the pain

of broken umbrellas

of cliche kisses in the rain

your arms around me

our hair in sodden dreadlocks

a day spoilt by the rain
Feb 2018 · 262
never be enough
Attie Feb 2018
i carve my body into your ideal shell
but no matter how hard i try

it will never be enough for you...
Feb 2018 · 187
Attie Feb 2018
the rhythm of my heart
and the rising of my chest with each breath
anchors me to this world
that i call my own

sometimes i can hear the roaring
in my ears
and the ticking of the clock

losing my beloved rythm
the tuning fork of this world is faulty

why else would there be so much
destruction and violence

why can't people just love on e another
instead of taking their words and pelting
them like missiles
obliterating the remaining confidence and security in our souls

'sticks and stones may break my bones'  
'but words will never hurt me'

is a false statement because when those words
come from people you trust and love
it seems like nothing
can ever rebuild the cracked porcelain

that is your facade...
Feb 2018 · 627
what's on your canvas?
Attie Feb 2018
as a child i believed in monsters
and innocence
but i have learnt
over my years
that life isn't all sunshine and rainbows
we are canvases marked in colour
from our experiences
some darker than others
some lighter
but all of those brush strokes  
are a picture of beauty
our highs
and lows
acrylic on graphite
soft pastel hues
on angry slashes of colour
water colour wishes and charcoal sorrows
Feb 2018 · 193
Gold Dust
Attie Feb 2018
your touch is like
a match lighting
the fireworks
in my body
golden dust
that falls on us
in the rose garden as you
say goodbye
you leave my kingdom
not by choice
but by the cruel hands
of fate
and all i suppose i can do
is hold onto that memory
in the rose scented world
gold dust raining
down on us
a honey tinted view
of what we really were
Feb 2018 · 240
Lost Boy
Attie Feb 2018
lost boy where do you go
when the sun is hiding
lost boy
you say your'e alone
but you aren't willing to let your fear go
lost boy
i hope you know that i will be here
and won't let go
lost boy
i see the black crow
latched onto your weakened soul
lost boy
that crow he tells you so
that if you go no one will know
lost boy
i hate that crow
Feb 2018 · 121
untitled 1
Attie Feb 2018

the lights flash


all is cool


make it stop


the clock tick tocks
Nov 2017 · 339
Attie Nov 2017
I am  a coward
I cannot stand tall
when words are thrown my way
and I am not very good at confrontation
due to the fact that my heart is too exposed
in  its cage that is my chest


a rhythm I know to well
add in the short breaths


of a clock inside my head
a soundtrack that is my own
different from the rest
Nov 2017 · 147
Attie Nov 2017
not many people have seen me cry
fragmented and undone
but sometimes when the war seems to much
the side that is tears
has won
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