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Let us sit by the water;
the sky darkens behind our backs,
ducks float, metallic feathers shimmering in moonlight.

Let us hold hands;
silence of night disappears between our thoughts,
minds racing, hearts beating and thumbs gently brushing one another.

Let us look at the stars;
how they form beautiful constellations,
how crystal clear our sky is with its stars blazing.

Let us remember tonight;
as the night our winter lips touched,
for the first time sealing an unspoken promise.
Men, feminine? No.
We will never be your equal.
We, men, are higher.

There's a reason for
the ****. Abuse. Violence.
It is always your fault.

Don't go out at night.
Don't wear provocative skirts.
Don't drink – it's not cute.

How's your low-paid job?
Hearing you shout, ****, *******;
Don't be a ****, *****.

You will fall into.
me, at the club, drunk and dumb
You speak yes, but no.

This isn't my fault.
You consented to my hands,
on slim thighs, smooth *******.

You're in the gutter;
those drugs intoxicate you,
short skirt, slurring words.
Nobody can be
perfect but you were pretty
close to perfection
Unable to grasp the concept
that other Humans feel the same things I do.
Love, Jealousy, Anger, Sadness, Happiness, Joy
but in different ways.

It’s not selfishness,
i know that you feel Anger,
but I feel it in the tears that roll down my cheeks
and you feel it in the punch you just threw.

That girls skinny thighs are my Jealousy,
whereas yours is the shiny black Ferrari in next door’s driveway.
Opening a new book and avoiding cracking the spine is my Joy,
but your Joy is receiving a bonus paycheck.

Love to me is skin on skin at 4am, the warmth and intimacy,
Love to you is seeing your mother’s smile after long distance absence.
My boyfriend doesn’t Love me anymore, that’s my Sadness,
You broke your favourite CD and you felt Sadness.

The most wonderful emotion that everybody seeks,
I made a chocolate cake and watched my sister’s face light up with Happiness,
You brought an expensive grey suit for work and you felt Happiness.

What I’m trying to convey is that Humans,
feel the same rollercoaster emotions
through different situations.
Materialism. Death. Gratitude. Kindness.
I am a carousel going
too fast.
The grey sky is my envelope,
when it opens
it pours
with belated emotion and fiery.
Ironing out the creases,
straightening my mind,
I am okay
“I am okay”
I. Am. Okay.
I repeat
over and over .

This is a temporary glitch,
The carousel is slowing,
my mind
it goes
The carousel reaches its impending doom.

Delayed reactions,
my head is still spinning
my hands are holding so tight
onto the horses beautiful deep black reins.
The carousel with its supposedly fairytale ending,
riding on the back of a horse into
a state of complete relaxation and calmness.
I hear the neigh of the horse before
my head hits the floor and I enter the black hole

my mind.
The days that the golden sphere of the sun shines,
out of my grass green eyes
are the days that turn into evenings
and my head is on my pillow
and all I want is noise!
I want the loud traffic jamming horn beeping,
Wind howling family shouting noise!
The calming chaos of sound to help me fall into a deep sleep.

The days that my mind explodes,
foggy grey cluster of clouds take over.
I am no longer a person.
I am defined by the bustle of thoughts
that race around inside my mind,
like a racecar determined to reach the finish line,
but my mind is no finish line.
My mind is no longer in my possession.

That day,
the fog clouds over
my head is once again on that pillow,
all I ask for is silence.
The silencing of my mind.
The silencing of the four walls trapping me in.
I’ll do anything for silence,
The soft soothing silence.
Life began as an embryo
boldly kicking and screaming
relishing in the first crucial gasp of air
"What a beautiful girl!"
Your father cried.

Little did we know
seventeen years later,
razor blades would find out your soft skin
gliding like scissors on gift wrap
smoothly, elegantly.

Scattered on our ocean blue bathroom tiles
your crimson blood stains.
the bubbling of your blood.

Seconds before you slice
the advice of your so-called best friend flashes
"Cut vertically"
She whispered.
"They can't sew that up"

Mother's instinct knew
you didn't want to die.
The mess you were in on the rough cold tiles
pleading "Mum! Mum! I'm so sorry"
You sliced horizontally.

18 months on
one psychiatrist
87 therapy sessions
endless tears
and a bottle of pills in our medicine cabinet.
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