I am  ****** death
Coming for you
Fear me
Now

It's better to take the dirt road

rather than the highway to perfection.

Eighteen years have passed me
I still marvel at picturesque clouds
They pass us overhead, with grace, like the ground they face isn’t rotten.

Find me that girl who smiles every day
Exchanging her three am thoughts
Into golden plated words that are beautiful
They belong in her poems.
Sadness stained cheeks covered in blush
She’s so lovely, people think
but she’s just glad her mascara is waterproof.

My grandmother has dainty hands, unlike mine
and I was jealous.
until I realized that they were covered in blood
years before I was born and knew what pain was,
making a living and treating her blisters at the same time.
Six children but it used to be eight before two passed away
“Sofian, he died before your grandfather by a few years”
Her heart broken in half and tears encrusted in her skin
But she still has delicate and pretty hands right?

People say they love one another,
But I can’t even count the knives on their backs anymore,
There are too many.

When I find myself in solitude,
I subsequently lose myself in thought.

You know,
I am ashamed.
These angels that watch us every day
I know they weep at our state
And I am done pretending it’s fine.

This is a world where the ground shakes in anger,
The sky cries out of despair
And the air thickens out of confusion
I am all of nature’s catastrophies
In the shape of a woman.

You will see me in the corner
Praying for lost souls
Including my own
Hoping that one day we’ll reunite in a place
Where words don’t drip blood
And authors find that writing is easier when happy
But for now, we can’t get enough of pretending.

My love for you will never end....as i promise to all i need is love and um happy we made it to all i need is love and to forgive and forget becouse together we can make our new generation and stop living in this movhango and now garedumele gore people can tear us apart..we will show people at our ekasi that our scandal is over,,only love come upon us...we can even go to home affairs to register our love even when we enter at family bounds they will only see "best couple" rhythm city is our past city where it destroyed our love and now we came around even need to go to society to tell abomzala that we made our love strong and come up very stronger...

I keep hearing of this master plan,, the grand plan,,, and NO,, don't try to preach to me,, I know the whole bible,, even the banned scriptures.
I have searched for answers but found none.
I am tired of carrying this cross, I cant do this any more.....

I have been to churches,, I have heard the preacher sell hope like my mother sold me,, God's master plan right?
I have had to dogged bullets in the darkest places, have had to carry peoples dreams and responsibility in my own highway of dreams.

I have had to die so that some can survive, Never loved so that someone can get a second chance in life.
Truth is being a saint did not help me, made miserable.. still does..
Can I please change the canvas? or bring in new colors..

Perhaps beyond the horizon there is a new background....
A reality that man denies himself..
A lighter burden perhaps...
or more reverse psychology to make me face tomorrow

be tender of words
and
tender of hearts,

be strong, be kind,
forgive us, them,
forgive them, us,
yourself as well,
for ours are walls
needy for overcoming,
and yours are too oft
too high

lives of tasks and taskmasters,
these oft self-appointed,
responsibilities - rocket-******
upon shoulders of mortal materials
uneven for and unintended
for the job
of carrying the world...

and yet,
we do
carry you, carry the world,
imperfect and scourged,

those self-righteous,
beheaders be wary,
I will not atone for you,
I will speak no tenders for you,
on this day of forgiveness,
there is none

We turn blind in faith
war for religion

stick stiff
to own belief

give gods name
invoke them

and our dogma goes so far
as to turn us

executioner.