m - Hello Poetry

m Oct 2015

it's you

I thought I was over you.
But I still check my messages at two in the morning,
hoping your name will magically appear.
Asking me how my day went,
how I spent my afternoon.
Telling me you missed me.
I'm hoping.
I don't know why, but I still am.

I'm hoping you'll come back,
say sorry that you left me hanging.
I'd probably say it's okay,
that I didn't mind.
That we were both busy at that time,
and didn't really notice the silence slowly devouring us.
But I did and it hurt.
It hurt a lot.
But that's okay because it's you.
I could never be mad at you.

I'll always come back to you.

#longing

m Oct 2015

i am a woman

I am a woman.
My bones are made of the hardest rocks,
my skin made of the finest silk.
My eyes are the brightest stars,
and I trap the biggest galaxies inside me.

I am a woman.
Like violent waves crashing on the peaceful shore,
my words can be beautiful and deadly.
I can help stitch your rough edges,
worn and frayed from the constant cruelty of the world.
Dare hurt me, I will pull the seams--
one by one, I will make you fall apart
and annihilate every fiber of your being
just as fast as I can build you up.

Do not fear me for I am a woman.
I love deeply,
with my heart forever trusting,
not scared to be hurt just to feel.
I am a woman,
and there is nothing --
nothing you can say or do
to stop me from becoming one.

For my transwomen friends. Hella proud of y'all <3

#gay #trans #transgender #pride #feminism #female #lgbt #women

m Oct 2015

tiny rock

It wasn't the common kind of sadness.
It was dark,
engulfing,
consuming.

It was a vast and dark ocean,
and I was nothing
but a tiny rock
thrown in it.

I sank hard,
I sank fast.
There at the bottom,
I stayed.

Never seeing.
Never leaving.

Found this between the pages of an old notebook. Written on 28/03/14. Must've been a tough time.

m Sep 2015

over you

This is how I realized I'm over you.

I do not miss you anymore.
My soul that used to seek warmth
from your curt, unfeeling replies
now burn with an unwavering flame
fueled by the love I have for myself.
The eyes that used to hold galaxies and hidden universes
are now miles of sand,
a desert in nighttime.
Cold, dangerous, unforgiving.
A warning to stay away
or I will be lost forever.
That smile that makes your face
the brightest thing in the world--
my world--
reminds me of forgotten promises and an empty future.
I do not want any of that.
I do not need any of that.

But I do not hate you.
I hated the nagging silence,
the growing distance,
the poor excuses.
I hated that we fell apart.
But I never hated you.
I never could.
You were my escape
and my time with you had been filled
with fluttering butterflies, days of sunlight, and endless wonders.
For that, I'm thankful.

I'm over you.

Sep 2015

RH 78

The little Boy on the beach

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Washed up.
Lifeless.
All for a new life too far to reach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Terrorists
Heartless.
What happened to the human rights we all preach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Traffickers.
Gangs.
Displacing people no home and no speech.

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
A son.
No future.
We hang our heads and weep!

Broken hearted and deeply affected by pictures I saw in the news depicting the lifeless body of a little boy no older than three who was photographed washed up on the shore line of Turkey. The result of further illegal human smuggling, people trafficking promising to get families to Europe on a false promise. All too often, people are put into small boats unable to sustain the weight of all the people put upon it and not fit for purpose. This is yet another shocking event in the wake of atrocities taking place in North Africa where the displacement of millions of innocent people continues. Governments are too busy counting the pennies and quarrelling amongst themselves in addition to wasting precious time as gangs and smugglers take advantage of the situation by sending people to their death profiting from the desperation of families searching for a place to call home. When will this end? RIP to the little boy, his brother and mother who all perished.

#death #human #trafficking #atrocity #migration #shocking #humandetermination

Sep 2015

calpurnia mockingbird

Crisis

We see ghosts in the eyes of all.
Scarred lives bleed onto screens
as spoon fed masses forget to use the word human.

Do they not bleed red?

We see fear fleeing war zones
while we in our comfort zones
mourn not the lives lost but the cost of the living.

We see children torn from wailing mothers.
Crushed and bloated by the weight of water
tiny bodies wash up lonely, suddenly silent
now mascots for a cause they did not choose.

Inaction is the thief of humanity.
Greed, it's protector, smiles down on the dying.
There but for the grace of God...

m Sep 2015

a little note

Your absence is nothing
but a reminder
of your missing presence.

A little note telling me
that you're never coming back.
A soft whisper in my ear,
fingers running through my hair,
burning lips on cold skin--
meticulously painting the night sky
in colors unknown to man.

It would have been beautiful,
this thing we used to have.
Except it's now gone,
and all that's left
are bitter hearts and sad poems.

#love #heartbreak #poem #sad #life #lonely #hurt #art #thoughts #you