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 Oct 2021 karin naude
He asked her what it's like living with anxiety.

She smiled sadly, "It's a never-ending pulse-race. Like knowing you don't want to jump off a cliff but not being able to talk yourself down from it.

Your fears take on a nebulous, unidentifiable form that tightens around your throat and incapacitates you.

There is no calm. No peace. Only the edge of a very strained thread."
 Oct 2021 karin naude
I do not have a future
So future won't see me
Then I pray for my death
Yet life still asking me
 Oct 2021 karin naude
Lior Gavra
Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.

She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.

Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.

A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.

Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.

Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”

The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.
This is one of the sample stories in my new book, "BitterSweet," which has become a #1 New Release on Amazon.
 Oct 2021 karin naude
hell is a place where
you constantly love those that
do not love you back.
 Feb 2018 karin naude
 Feb 2018 karin naude
today i felt the need to let go.

no, im not telling you for the
sake of seeking attention.

but today i had to let go...

let go of my worries,
stresses, thoughts, insecurities
that have been engulfing me;
worsening by the moment.

so i erased it all from my mind.
only giving it the freedom
to return at any other time

any other time
but now.

because i could no longer carry
the suffocating weight of
the burden of those feelings
on my mind

my sanity was on the
brink of mental destruction,
overwhelming and no control.

so i let it out feelings and thoughts
in a way that brought with it
a limited peace card.

in the form of steamy streams of
hot torrents that manifested
the arduous pain - my bottled up
emotions and its result that
came in floods leaving me feeling
a drip of rectifying relief...

but not close to
feeling satisfied.

although to be honest
it pacified me
long enough for me
to attentively apprehend
that emotions and feelings
were tides; continuously
falling and rising

but with time
I’d be in the last stages
of my metamorphosis
I’d be in control of the tide
I’d be surfing along its waves
finally infused with tranquility

because for the first time
in what would be a long time,
i would be at peace.

if you liked this give it a like, love, share or even add to your collection :)
 Feb 2018 karin naude
vanessa ann
i found myself last night whispering your name under the shield of my duvet, willing myself to pronounce every syllable of your name to the darkness of my room. i looked up to the plastic stars on my ceilings, remainders of the childhood i once had, and said it:

“yoon. jeong. han”

every syllable clear and true.

and it occurred to me,
how beautiful your name was.

“yoon” — the moon and the whistles of the wind, lulling me into dreamland.
“jeong” — a masculine edge.
and finally, the concluding “han” that returns it into its original softness.

clean milky way.

i’ve never expected to fall for a boy with your name. but i’ve always been fascinated with the universe and all the bright lights surrounding our blue planet. so i guess, it is only fitting for me to fall for a boy whose name means “clean milky way”

so i whispered your name over and over into the night.
yoon jeonghan.
yoon jeonghan.
yoon jeonghan.
until the taste of it becomes as familiar as the quiet.
and i swear, i saw the plastic stars on the ceiling growing brighter with every syllable.

i whispered and whispered until i fell into morpheus’ charm, and awoke with a new realization:

*your name is my favorite sound.
to the boy who made me feel

{or alternatively — "it's 3 in the morning and you still haunt my mind so i decided to write this piece i wouldn't call poetry and post it on a poetry website for hundreds to see"}
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