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Kwanele Jul 2015
time will eventually knock on my door and tell me I'm not needed around anymore... .said .gray under the moonlight trying to find forever and realising.....
realising forever is only but another one of her dreams. She feels her coffee going cold and the void in her heart turning cold too, nothing lasts forever.
you made the palm of her hands you're world, you put your heart into moulding this world and she repeatedly closes her palms to show you how the pain you had once sworn to never feel, will be your beings demise.

Let love in , they said
She gripped her palms tighter, she did
   Breaking my world and walking away with my heart.
Warm fingers? Could never melt the void
But two cold and sad souls could never make each other happy or heal each other either.

What is one to do with epiphanies at night time.
the purge
Jul 2015 · 306
to the girl...
Kwanele Jul 2015
to the girl:
        thinking about you hurts
             i don't like doing it anymore
           but how do i stray from what i
           am accustomed too.
         night time, eleven : eleven passed
         you're not the one i wish for..
         anymore.
      nor will i ever wish upon a star
      for another lover as if star crossed
      is what we are.
only so much hurt one can take.
Kwanele Jul 2015
Rhythm is poetic..
We all know how catharsis emotes, she purges, taps.
She taps away at the keys and if the silence was not too loud you'd hear how the keys on this device create a beautiful kind of rhythm because she says rhythm is poetic and I am thinking of her, thoughts of how if I was ever granted the pleasure of seeing her ..holding her, these thoughts lead to how I imagine her smile would look like and how that would make my heart skip beats, how my heart would race and how beautiful the sound would be..  how I'd ask her to stand close enough to hear it say... rhythm is poetic, rhythm is poetic, rhythm is poetic, this beat, swaying her emotions, letting then run wild because, my heart beats at the tune she hummed, beat..boxed, Sophia Thakur did that.. not a single beat but three beautiful sounds connecting two beings.. two kindred spirits. 
Rhythm is poetic, catharsis personified it, her smile and my heart danced to a beat under the stars with the stars creating constellations, beautiful constellations, creating seasons and the beat created the illusion of a fifth season. Our maker did with the heavens and the earth, we create our own little heaven in moments brought together by time, the stars, her smile, my hitching breath and my heartbeat.
She said it.
Could be love, let it be beautiful
Jul 2015 · 262
You do not know me.
Kwanele Jul 2015
letter to the night : child of the night I am not.
Letter to my parents..
    you could say and can say a lot about me but you cannot say I was never truthful to what you taught me, you can never ever say i went against anything you stood for.
A rebel I am, but with a cause.
You'd like me to be infront of you wallowing in whatever feeling consumes me at that moment, you want me infront of you but the girl you're seeing is not who she is, me sitting there and trying to make you happy while I slowly pull the trigger to the gun in my hand.

You know not what kills me but you spew demands about where I should or should not be. You don't know the cause of it all yet you persist on controlling a child you do not know. **** what the doctors say, you do not listen anyway, I am sick we know that, that's fine ? Why am I sick? Have you asked yourself that question ? No you have not yet you have the audacity to sit there and conjure up ideas about what I may or may not be doing. ASK ME , I will tell you the truth and nothing else but it.

You do not know me, seventeen years living and you do not know me. How do you feel about not knowing a thing about the child you birthed ? Tell me please because I'm sitting here , July fourth at 1:50 am trying to figure out who I am , tear stained eyes , hitching breaths, rocking back and forth and everything.
You do not know me.
You do not know me.
You do not know me.

Ask me who I am and on a journey we will embark, what lies ahead ? I hope you're ready.
Kwanele Jul 2015
letter to the night : child of the night I am not.
     she said ; " the problem with art is the artist "
     she said this and i began to think about how we as artists, myself as a poet, we tend to scribble words on paper, meaning one thing and then another and then everything and then nothing. we say things in a rather peculiar way and yet we yearn to be understood, when we ourselves cannot fathom what we've just let out into the world. i call this a cry for help..
      she said this and this made me think of all the letters titled " to the girl " as a poet i knew what i wanted to say, i had her reaction all planned out and ready when she couldn't understand, when her ability to respond failed her , i wrecked my brain and heart trying to find ways to get some sort of response reading in between lines that were not there at all.
Myself as the poet, i yearn to be understood because i myself do not...

    to the girl : bare with me, time is all i have. someday we'll sit back in our little bit of heaven and recall on all the ink stained papers and i will tell you all about how you had the ability to make created languages, codes , close to the morse than could not be understood by many.
    to the girl : whoever you are ? Someday you and i both will understand. the art will be deciphered and love will meet time and it'll be beautiful.
Reane. bare with me. I am here. Someday will be our day.
Jul 2015 · 235
two am - six pm
Kwanele Jul 2015
A friend of the night I am not connected to the moon I am not. morning used to to be my time but the pain felt ten fold in this pulsating vein tells me , I no longer am a child of the night seeking happiness under the moonlight.

She's miles away from me and we're stargazing together, this is why she's it. The nothingness may consume me but she has it beat, can help but let in the warm feeling into my heart, I love you and i never want this to end. Don't leave me ?
I can't.
Jun 2015 · 1.6k
me you, Hennessy.
Kwanele Jun 2015
me, you and Hennessy.
me, you this Hennessy.
three different people, one night...
this one night...
I swear this is about to turn into a piece about how we three came together with these trees, lit..
you, me ..this Hennessy talking to me baby and I've been thinking about you.
right now I'm about to let this henny talk , see I've been watching you tonight.. this night, stargazing ....you me, falling for the moon..the stars.. baby this is where we are, me in between your legs, thighs rubbing on my neck , warmth on my ears.. This is me, you and where we're meant to be...together us three..


me you this Hennessy lets get acquainted, the henny speaks to me and I to you, you could call henny the wing because once Richard got that whiff he's never been able to say no to nights with you. Richard got a whiff, his fix, the aroma.. my god, blaspheme i apologise , speaking in tongue, my tongue in your ear, mouth, neck, *******, naval back to your *******, Richard lost track of time he has got to dip but still he stands at attention...minutes gone by forgetting the whiff he once caught, slowly going down, tying his shoes looking up to you on one knee, that whiff, your *****... he has to dip but watching you drip ? the henny, the devil on his shoulder whispered to him " devour her, eat at her soul, speak in tongues , spell her name with your tongue, make her see stars because under the stars, that's where it all began.. us stargazing , stars gazing , you dazing... daisies. day in day out you , me and this Hennessy ...pure bliss.
Fell victim to Cypees with Bangzi
Jun 2015 · 215
It was five AM
Kwanele Jun 2015
You have too much soul to be handled by someone who has never been passionate.
See love, I don't mean to downplay your love but i have a heart susceptible to emotion and i just have tap my fingers and let the sky fall
As I write, the hand writing this letter aches for you, your soul and the passion you possess, my entire being devoted  to passion, enlightenment and soul through melodies sung for Melanie, I sing and let the sky fall. My heart entwined with my mind has your face embedded in the most sacred parts of my subconscious, sacred derived from the thought of never showing you the passion and soul behind these eyes, the fire within my hands. there's more to me than what the eye sees, the mind thinks and the heart skips, everything you're looking for us here in this box filled with passion, be pandora, open the chest and let the passion devour your entire being
Jun 2015 · 325
It's four AM.
Kwanele Jun 2015
From lengthy conversations to small talk being the new deep..lost generation..
I could never love you deserving.
I could never make it beautiful either. You walked away, I commend you on the well executed escape plan.
the contemplating, gun to the head girl, was not granted the pleasure of seeing your long black hair blow in the wind with the willows. all i could do was put the phone down.

-catharsis.
Cyphers , seeking enlightenment.
Jun 2015 · 231
June 20th
Kwanele Jun 2015
the anger consumed me and i could no longer hold or bare the sight of you
the fire raging in my eyes, my fists , causing me to tremble like never before
the anger consumed me i let you see that part of me, directed to you, it was not, the impending thought of how my arms couldn't cradle you as I should have
the anger consumed and took the ability of loving you as you should away.
i cannot tell how much it hurts, it doesn't, paper beats rock, anger beats sadness and the nothingness ? that beats me.
Kwanele Jun 2015
shewrites.
fingers tapping, typing.
heavy hearts, i cannot breathe.
tell me what do to do with the unfeeling in my fingers? how do i cry over things that seem meaningless. Sometimes letting go is the best thing.
I'm not worth ****, I'm not good for anyone. I ******* see this, the unfeeling in my hands prevents me from feeling anything but anger.
Susceptible to emotions? not a ******* chance.
When breathing on my own becomes the hardest thing ever.
Pill popping puppy, leave me to not feel. **** happens.
May 2015 · 530
nothingness.
Kwanele May 2015
nothingness seeping through cracked windows and closed palms, you do not belong here, she said to herself repeatedly, rocking back and forth in the corner daddy once told her to stay away from.
nothingness, aching in the most sacred parts of her being.
she said to me : " you may lose yourself to the silence but keep the good in you away from the silence "
what she doesn't know is the silence, the nothingness ? became so much that it one day took over and devoured the good in me, for the life of me, i haven't been able to piece myself together.
just breathing, existing..
blatantly oblivious to all my sufferings.
May 2015 · 385
sweet sweet misery
Kwanele May 2015
stay away, sweet misery. the love she gave you was never yours too keep. love her wholeheartedly and watch her walk away with all you had to give.
stay away. sweet sweet misery.
May 2015 · 372
I feed my demons
Kwanele May 2015
pretty sure I feed all my demons just because without the sadness I feel incomplete.
no weeping willows or lights to hold me together like a straight jacket.
broken little person looking for acceptance into way too many baggies and cigarette packs.
May 2015 · 299
I will miss you
Kwanele May 2015
Pretty baked.
#feels
  - watch her move as far as she can from those who kept her together and broke her all at the same time, because she spent so much time alone and without them and doesn't want to feel their presence. " they are leaving again they aren't staying " she repeats, to herself.
#backofdadscar
Apr 2015 · 696
Untitled
Kwanele Apr 2015
Dear diary,

This is by far the worst day I've ever had, I'm sad , scared , anxious , really really *******.
Neglect ? I know what that feels like now, it lingers on in this cold room, as i feel the need to isolate myself from those who judge me without even knowing me, as black as I am, I am just the same as them , just a tad bit cuter.

Dear diary ,
I am not cut out for all this, as loud as I am and as " intimidating " as I may look, I'm still the little pre-scholar that wouldn't speak up to the mean girl , in the class, I'm still the kid that craves for acceptance , I'm the kid that misses her mommy , as old as I am, I am still my daddy's little girl, I'm still the girl that cries in the dark , hell even the light too , that's how far I've come. Out of my element I am ..but this is pure *******, the longer I stay here the faster I realise that I'm not as sick as I perceived or that's the fear talking , I cannot take this.
I miss my family, my bunny ... I miss you, I miss you , I miss you.

Dear diary,
We're still on the first day but I cannot breathe , I feel myself and the nothingness ; ten fold. I am not okay.
The purge I am, Purge ? I will, I have to.
They say time goes faster ........
I'm in a ******* psychiatric hospital.
     Cool People and all but yeah **** it I miss home
Apr 2015 · 761
Purge
Kwanele Apr 2015
I am the purge.
But becoming ThePurge, the thrill, I was never ready for the process, forced by my subconscious and the word itself, catharsis I am not, i ran away from my demons and with that one breath I took, the caught up to me and forced the life out of me, fingers pressed together, pressed right into the soon ending abyss.. regurgitation ? Not so much , I looked at my life in the toilet bowl and hid it, and with one swift move? ThePurge never happened. ThePurge never existed.
I promised I would not give in, but the thrilling sensation of the acid in my throat was worth it.
Not the last letter. I will come alive again.
Not in a good place.
Admitted to hospital.
Apr 2015 · 495
My fear of ? hospitals
Kwanele Apr 2015
Hospital beds
My hands are shaking I'm looking for something solid to grip on to before I wither away into the hands of doctors, narcotics and with everything in me I am trying to hold onto this because I don't want to be taken away from you, not now or ever.
I am afraid
Scared shitless : rephrased
Shaking hands don't take me away from my safe haven , rather put me next to her bed , I promise I'll lay peacefully and not giving anyone any trouble.
****** ! Psych ward, man I'm scared.
Apr 2015 · 580
Letter to my love
Kwanele Apr 2015
I look at the beauty inside of all her broken pieces and I wonder how anyone, how I could have shattered such a gift.
I want you to know that I don't write poetry for you, I write it all for me, In order for me to be good enough for you, I need to be better than who I was yesterday, a week,month, year ago. I need to be enough for you I need to feel as though I am worthy, as of now ? I do not feel as though I am.
With everything being thrown at us and me having this weak and fickle heart and an imbalanced brain, I tend to go back in time , self introspect was never my friend , I was never my friend, all that is good for me is you and the poetry.
Bad for me..you are but good is not what I'm looking for , good is not what my mind thinks about , as bad as you are? You're worth all the heartache, I choose to be here, you've granted me the pleasure of being yours and pieces of me are slowly returning and we're becoming better, I pronise.
I digress, I cannot stomach the thought of all my indiscretions , I cannot tell you how sorry I am for my fear of a good thing.
Fighting my demons? Apologizing to her, loving her, my light.
Apr 2015 · 1.2k
Her? My addiction
Kwanele Apr 2015
Minds numb
******* throbbing
Monotony then the beat drops
Euphoria, eating away at her core, the love she holds in her aching heart penetrating through her achingwalls, ***** click, speak to me in your mother tongue,
African queen , not just any ******* queen
With clicking tongues tell me you're life's story and for that I then would be granted the pleasure of just simply eating away at her *****, for ***** sake.
Marijuana induced
Pretty ***** too
I missed her? Yes
Apr 2015 · 2.0k
.. VS ..
Kwanele Apr 2015
How she silences all my senses remains a mystery to me. She numbs my core but yet makes it beat rapidly.
  My insides turn to jelly whenever she gnaws at my belly, when she sinks her nails into my back and bites my bottom lip like a liquorice stick.
  Some others would call her a bottom **, but there's so much more to her being than being more than a side chick.
  She sings melodies which resonate with the hums of my heart when we touch,
much of which is far from lust but is purely just.
  To me she's more than a nutbust, she's more of an infinite ****** from which i cannot overcome.
                        
                    VS
my botttom ***** she.. changed the scene, I: the  bottom *****, loved and gave in once again, Into all the blissful ******* she spewed using her tongue.
Her tongue numbing everything...everything except my hands clenching, gripping knuckles turning white, my teeth drawing blood from my bottom lip.
she walked out, leaving me , bleeding , aching core. she left my house, my little bit of heaven.

Calls at 3am , the top, begging to be let it and just like that the words " go **** yourself " stuck in my throat yet my arms are missing you.
  i turn to mush when you make that face... this is why i remain in the darkside, feeding the demons you supposedly killed
  these demons were fed with lead, resurrected and led by madness.
Rage!
    or a caveman savage!

Or..
i could call her over  and offer her some tea and muffins, from a musket.
Hemp rope and hang (with) her, bound  by invincible chords to the Lord but what more could i ask for but harmonious love from broken keys.
Broken keys for broken hearts, broken hearts deserve shotguns to pump bullets into the minds of those who sugarcoat the truth.
Co-Written with BX
Kwanele Apr 2015
Battered, bruised
Aching heart , smoke inhalation my life is done
Obsessive lovers broken down
My life is done
Marlboro , rather peaceful.
Medication numbing
My life is done .
Little girls and boys weeping, baby boy I cannot hold you , I am too far gone
I need to be held. Who will hold me.
I want to hold you.
This is not the last letter but one of many
My life is done.
Torn apart
Battered , bruised.
My life is done.
Air supply cut off , lights flashing
I'm the deer caught in the on coming cars headlights.
This is it. Battered and bruised.
My life is done.
Apr 2015 · 292
The online Cypha.
Kwanele Apr 2015
If we could withstand tremors then,
a woman can't split us in half.
In this situation we try to chase after what we both can't probably have,
or just enough for one and we can't really share.
I see your lust in your lengthy stares,
but atleast we could've prepared ourselves for what lay ahead..

I love you, she wrote on the tear stained paper, ink dripping, like the waterfall you , had created in her- heaven , trembling. My love is made for you. I cannot leave , I will not leave for once this love?...
This love Is not unrequited ..
my heart, truly entwined in your web of lies..
I am caught.. possessive? I am not. I will not keep you here. I will not keep you here while still trapped.. I cannot let you keep me here while you go on living or rather breathing...
I want to hold you like a willow in the wind...i want you to be still in my arms...
rock a bye baby .. this ? This right here is your cradle, lay in it..
my love for you is being tested...
I choose you. I choose you

I tried to find you but you hid behind a hideous facade of lies and heartache masked by debris of supposed happiness.
Were you heaven sent??
You were heavenly scented and it drove my nostrils on a frenzy like a day spent at FD's,
and I think Richard got a whiff too..

What's a whiff if I can't always have your scent laced to my nose hairs??
What's a thought if I can't have endless kisses from you,
how soon until I get to look at you without feeling guilty coz its rude to stare.
But in your eyes I find serenity..
So please just tell me,what's your name,Miss??

Serenity, in your eyes, found. Miss , tell me your name and grant me the pleasure of shouting it across the room with pleading eyes, an aching heart , believe me my core too...  I love you , I love you... Baby grant me the pleasure of whispering it in your left ear while I caress your right.. The right way.
Co-written with BX
Apr 2015 · 1.0k
Pick up the microphone
Kwanele Apr 2015
Pick Up The Microphone

  Pick up the microphone,
hear me speak,
I see you looking at me,
feeding me the words coming out of my mouth,
feeding off of my energy, the hype,
catharsis personified is what you are in that moment.
I digressed but yeah correct me if needs be.

If needs be,
Words?
Where we have Mr.Ease and Difficulty,
Then the least they do is hug me.

Pick up the microphone,
Noises spoke,
Voices wrote,
The philosophy,
And the etymology,
To shine with glitter by the twang which is spoken,
From pretty little girls that provoke them,

Pick up the microphone,
Give birth to the word which is answered,
Give in the words to be renowned and,.
be free with the verb that has  inaugurated me,

With this personal noun stands my identity,
My adjective accommodating the quality,
Adverb knowing the effect of me,
So,the next time you blur vision, to get a vivid state of mind.
You better PICK UP THAT MICROPHONE .
By Catharsis
Co-Written with Jeremiah Dire
Kwanele Mar 2015
He said to her;
  -Love, unrequited
Feelings that could not be debated, you ran and I chased, instead of trying to get this paper.
You took a glance,
I took a chance and stared, into a space where my subconscious mind travelled on the daily like fresh bread and....that place happened to be where the galaxy unfolded..

A place where I would stretch your folds and you with your own moans, damaged your walls but never spray my graffiti on them.
You swallowed my ***** so I thought Richard would be the reason you wouldn't see men, but it seems when all it ends you drop me like the ash of that cigarette you so eagerly urged me to leave, but in between contemplation and how my heart skipped beats at the thought of you not being... I saw no reason.

Your touch had no equal, your tongue was lethal. A poison that subsides my pride and doubt it , but kind of made me feel how you only did so well cause no other compared to how I had you screaming, whimpering.. How you shuddered when I made you numb to all senses and when your knees weakened , that one faithful Friday evening.

See we fought but talked about it when the heat settled, like the humidity when I sat and thought about it all the next morning ... Mourning emotions what were non-existent, the regret swam through my thought canals like when you came to your senses after your reign of pleasure.
But things could never be the same , we all suppress pain in our own unique ways.
A love song minus one
We spoke a language of lies but it was fun , so we went on separate paths just to meet again and ignite the spark with ember words, no inhibitions, just fire..

The aftermath of the one night stand that never ceases to be found inside my mind which I hope to lose sometimes.

She said to her:
This love, this unrequited love like a lover drowning in an ocean of her very own tears, screaming the words
" do not come near me, don't save me " this unrequited love like a bated breath, I wait for thee to see the look in my eyes, to see the raw emotion.
How mistaken I was, the raw emotion you saw in my eyes.. The one I'd let close enough to see me, only revealed at my most vulnerable moments when you were in between legs you're tongue , torturous... refusing to let me come , because that's all It was to you.. A game.. I was your unrequited lover, submitting to all the ******* you called love, it was not. I was the one you called when the silence was too loud and with my wavering heart and aching core I gave into you like you never left my side.

My heart entwined, in your web of lies..
your fingers deep inside, my core on fire, aching , throbbing..
You held me tight, calling me baby baby baby , whispering sweet nothings " I will never leave you "
You were never mine .
You said to me one night " baby, who needs a relationship, all we need is one night " and then you left through the door, you left me in pieces, you took away my everything, you left me in the bed with your side frozen as the winters cold, you left me, feeling used , so used..once again

I looked back and knew , this would never end.. days later you walked in , I gave into you... Legs sprawled awaiting , impending thoughts in my subconscious : " will she touch me, her name in my mouth ready to be said, please touch me ****** "

This unrequited love : I am drowning but I cannot ******* die.
   I am trying so hard to reach for your hand , hold it against my heart and make it all okay.
I am trying with everything in me to get close enough to caress your cheek..
You were never mine and I was not granted the pleasure...
  
The aftermath of That One Night
The aftermath of The Unrequited love
- I cannot get you to love me, I cannot make myself stop loving you.

- M.V.M.M.X . BX
-catharsis . QM
Co-write with BX
Mar 2015 · 835
the online cypha
Kwanele Mar 2015
As the world dissolves into the vanity,
the speech is slurred and he can't really pay attention.
His eyes can't cease to get a mention,birds twitter coz his voice sounds better when day ends.
I really can't say when,
but since then he's been trapped..inside his mind he lives in the Garden of Weeden.
Trapped trapped trapped inside the walls of his subconscious mind, the garden of weeden, his nirvana, safe haven. Smoke inhaled, never exhaling, hold on tight, fingers clenched until the burning sensation makes him pay attention, I am saved, the garden of weeden, my nirvana.
Nirvana took my bravado,
I know I got what fuckboys don't.
When vaporised my words make them choke,
loss of their greatest hopes for what's dope.
Freedom stays cloaked in corrogated iron sheets,in a deep sleep induced by so-called "sweet dreams",but he astrals through this dimension.

Dimentia came and so did Fester,
their brains can't seem to process the controversial words.

But he does,
coz he's just on the highest peak of consciousness.
At his highest peak of consciousness, his kundalini risen, chakra's in alignment, he saw it all, the lies, the truth every ******* thing so clear to him, overwhelming to say the least, cathartic, he became catharsis.
Co-write - BX - QM
Mar 2015 · 264
heart.
Kwanele Mar 2015
My heart she owns that, my everything she has it all, my mind may stray but you know what they say about how home is where the heart is, the gravitational pull towards her, my ****, I cannot stay away, I will not stay away. Nirvanainabottle, my supposed heaven, correctly worded my nirvana, I love you. I ******* love you.
I love her
Mar 2015 · 578
i will hold you.
Kwanele Mar 2015
The hypersomniac that could not sleeping staring into an abyss . 
Staring at the darkness trying to figure out where it all went. 
The hypersomniac  thought of you. 
Thoughts of you, kept her alive rather than just of existence. 
Thoughts, imagery, emotions ; you. 
The hypersomniac. 
 My hypersomniac that could not sleep. 
Staring into my eyes. 
My eyes, the void, seeing something of worth, a gem. 
My hypersomniac saw me. 
my hypersomniac, i love her. 
my hands; her cradle. 
rock-a-bye baby. 
 I will put you to sleep.
 I will keep your heart at bay, at ease. 
I will hold you. 
I will love you.
Hypersomniac that couldn't sleep.
Feb 2015 · 334
wallow.
Kwanele Feb 2015
That's all I seem to be able to do. 
Wallowing in my pain. Or  rather the thoughts of you, conjured up by my mind because of the empty space you left when you walked in and out of my life. Certain subconscious happiness  in your leaving but the clear sadness the clear surplus of what ifs are never ending and I cannot break free. 
I miss you. That's all I know now. Missing you, that is all I am now. I wish for so many things, your happiness seems to out weigh, every selfish wish I have had, what is love if not a touch of possession, selfishness. 
 .qm
Jan 2015 · 260
I love you.
Kwanele Jan 2015
you live for the silent afters, i hate when you don't speak to me, i hate it when you walk away, i am falling in love with the back of your head. 
i love you.
Jan 2015 · 780
silent afters.
Kwanele Jan 2015
silent afters. sza. tears rolling down my face into a never ending abyss. 
I miss you, i really ******* miss you. it's messing with my mind. 
I miss you so so much. 

silent afters. silent afters. silent afters. 
nothing silent about them, the silence. the bane of my existence. the emptiness right next to my coffee cup. too loud, the silence. the silence is too loud. 
 silent afters. lessons learned. I would love and live for you all over again, silent afters lessons learned. the nothingness leaves me cold and empty and nothing. 
lessons learned, none. 
you were something. something worth doing again. all over again. 
you were really something. 

silent afters. no regrets. just nothingness. with a slight bitterness of what ifs.
 what if I hadn't. where would I be. I doubt I'd be anywhere special, highly spirited sense. some things we refuse to take back. I could never, I would never.
and that's all she wrote.
Dec 2014 · 3.5k
don't leave me.
Kwanele Dec 2014
I hate how cold the nothingness, the unfeeling leaves me.
you cause me pain and take it away. 
you give me love and take that away too. 
choose one? make me feel it, give me the pain, dont stop just don't leave me, I cannot take the silent afters, dry tears, cold nights,  empty hearts . 
       q.m
Nov 2014 · 2.9k
nothingness
Kwanele Nov 2014
forgetting you? cannot do it with a sober mind. 
I'd rather fall into a drug induced coma than try to forget you with all my pieces intact, my mind intact, my heart in place. 
I want to feel forgetting as a cathartic emotion than a numbing aid. 
I don't want to feel you. I feel you through the nothingness and it is overwhelming. 
weeping willows weeping willows. weeping in the rain the wind carrying the weeping willows as they sing. my heart weeping for you. my willow you. 
drug induced coma; forgetting her ; without the nothingness..
Nov 2014 · 699
writers block
Kwanele Nov 2014
breathing in way to many fumes of unfinished poems, forgotten lovers. i miss you. 

i'm trying with everything in me to refrain from showering you in metaphors and similes. 
i'm trying to keep this pen from spewing truth about how i like my morning coffee black like my heart without you or like the beautiful color of your hair. 
i don't want to spew truth about how your every bit of the word serendipity how i became cathartic with you. how you come second to none to the sun. how every cloud of smoke blown out of my mouth at 12am reminds me of you after a few pills and how that's when i love you most 'cause that? that's where all the truth comes. i don't want to tell you about how the flower i passed on my walk the other day made me stop and think of you and me and the future we could have. i don't. 
 
i want to tell you the truth i want to tell you everything i feel without the metaphors, similes. i want to tell you what my heart feels without any attachment to anything else but you. i love you.

writers block. 
I'm sorry. 
q.m
i don't know. writers block. inspired by many.
Nov 2014 · 487
untitled
Kwanele Nov 2014
she said: " there's no real peace in revenge. "
i could never hurt you like you hurt me.
i could never make the pain beautiful or seem like it is worth it either. 
 i love you.
it was worth it. i don't think i can let her go. i am trying.
Nov 2014 · 3.1k
forgetting
Kwanele Nov 2014
it tears me to pieces.
it literally ***** the life out of me.
 i am already so broken; having to forget another person i love? that will destroy me. 

she said ; the next one you open up too will have to pay for that. 
 you cannot fully forget; you distract yourself from thinking. you distract yourself to keep yourself sane. 

I am on this path of destruction and it is fueled by sadness.
   soon there will be nothing left of me. 
   that scares me. a lot.
Nov 2014 · 2.2k
her.
Kwanele Nov 2014
sober as the morning sun
you're not here. we want you here. we only want you. 
always and forever maybe, if you'll let me.
bright lights shining ; all artificial ; because you are it, the real thing ; for me. 

shining lights; fireworks; no not for me
my blue moon; skittles.  ;her.
               one for me.
serendipity serendipity serendipity 
                her her her
          someday
blue moon. 
pink cloud. 
crimson cloud.
beautiful flower child.
earth child.
             collide
with collision came life. like with a bang came life.
    someday we will collide with collision comes forever.
 with forever comes the desire for no end. no end comes with closeness, love, shining lights, fireworks ; we can stand.
                                     shining lights, fireworks; we want to stand for

the need for closeness,love ; hidden? yes
                  Call me what you will; selfish? maybe.
                            closeness and love worth a million secrets
                                    kept in one.
                  the need closeness and love from her in a bottle
         Nirvana in a bottle.
Nirvana ; her 
Bottle ; me 
 Nirvanainabottle; (the need for) closeness and love, (from her)  for her. Kept.
Nov 2014 · 797
beat.
Kwanele Nov 2014
two beats. one heart
    i want to become one with you.
love love love.

     one? what is one? 
    the lowest cardinal number. 
     half of two. 
    
you? one...
     You're? the one. 
two beats. one heart
 us? one.
one? you. myself. ; peculiar beings ; one? we are one. 
              
always and forever, I have hoped to find the one.
always and forever, I have hoped to find she. who amounts to one .
you? her? one? my love.
forever and always I hope to have you as one. 
forever and always I hope to become one with you.

catharsis. 
the word said like a mantra. 
the word said like the last prayer.
the word amounting to; you. one. Nirvana. serendipity.
      four words; four hearts; one.

through you many things have been found, love, lust, love, serendipity, nirvana, catharsis, love , art, love. 
    
together? catharsis ; can become. 
two beats. one heart.
two hearts. one beat.
   in sync. love.
i love you
   three words. mantra.
you you you. i love you.
catharsis; you and i. forever and always. Nirvana. 
 Words; life. You; life support. Us; love, hope.
 
well hoped.
Oct 2014 · 1.9k
you.
Kwanele Oct 2014
you. are it
you. are her
you are my bit of serendipity.
you are my pleasant surprise.
you are it. you make it ok. with you i can bare it. you make me ok.
my bit of serendipity, my fortunate happenstance.
you, you and only you.
call it what you will?
call me what you will?
an addict, a druggie, your druggie.
my bit of serendipity you are it.
my bit, my aftermath, my something.
yes you are something.
my different.
you. me. serendipitous. i see it. do you?
my something. my black and white. my grey at 3am, my fucken lucid dream.
you, mine? no? ok.  you, me ? us ? no ? someday. my blue moon? my black and white? my grey my black and blue?
my bruise? i am bruised ? Its hidden? like you and i? yes? it is hidden. like my love for you? Unrequited. yes that's true. we're done? i'm done i'll be back someday.
and i will be.
Your bit of serendipity.
letter to my lover.

— The End —