I wondered if my love for you died.
Weird, I thought I would have fought for you, I thought I would have cried.
Instead everything felt hollow.
Not having any inspiration to write, its, not loving you. Its a hard pill to swallow.

Who am I if not for you poetry.

The World around me is my art form.
The people around me are my inspiration,
The pain surging and growing inside me is my strength,
But these hands...
They are the creators of what my heart fails to speak and what my soul craves to feel.

The World around me is my art form.
There's this girl, I should probably mention that she's beautiful.
Considering the idea that the first words that escaped my mouth when I saw her was "beautiful", oh and she's delightful too.
She rolled up her sleeve and showed me her perfectly smooth skin,
I was shocked, never have I ever seen such smooth, soft clear skin,
I could Look at mine and see the countless scars of drips they inserted in me.
I was mesmerised to say, but she laughed, "It's not always obvious", she cocked her head.
I watched her take off her blouse, removed her black vest and turned around, now I don't know what happened but as my eyes met her back, my voice hitched.
"Say something", she pleaded.

Scars, beautifully and perfectly traced on her smooth not so smooth mocha skin.
Exceptionally carved in a 'x' pattern,
Some scars fresh, with black and blue bruises, dried blood on some.
An intriguing colour of crimson red protruding from her skin,
Drawing an imagery of a crying back, weird but I saw that.
My hands began to itch, burning to touch her, to read her story.
Without much thought my hands began to read her,

Tracing each scar, noticing each pain that she had kept in.
Secrets pouring out and colouring themselves on to me.

"It's not always obvious", she whispers.

"It really isn't"

"I should write lighter things hey", I giggle nervously.
"No. Just write what you feel", She shrugs
"And what I see", I grin like an idiot
"But yea, what you feel like writing", she looks at me.
"Oooh I should write a happy poem!" I squeak and jump profoundly
"I could never", She laughs
"Why not? I find them hard to write" I furrow my eyebrows
"Le Nna felt jalo ( same here)", she shrugs
"We should try though", I press
"I'm never truly happy", she laughs
" You know the one emotion we all understand wholeheartedly is pain? It will always be pain because it's the absence of one of the most feared emotions in the entire world and that's happiness. We don't understand being happy and that scares us yet we so want to feel it, to the extent we draw it and try to write it. But there's always a flaw in that, most of the art that is filled with so much happiness contains a hidden image of unexpicable pain.", I tell her softly.
"You're weird", she laughs
"Hey!" I scold her
"Why can't we just be happy though", she sighs
"I don't know", I say just barely above a whisper.

It won't just be ******* anymore.

It'll be our hearts intertwining and our souls creating a sensual dance.
It won't just be hand holding, it would be a creation of viral sparks flowing with each touch, creating some sort of crave to continuously hold you, the desire to to feel you.

It won't just be me listening to you talk but more of me admiring and thanking God for that sensual voice, it would be more like listening to Beethoven, no better yet to the great classical music that exists creating some sense of warmth and security from your voice.

It will no longer be a smile, It would be the universe stopping, nothing moving allowing me to take in that incredible smile, it will be my heart beating ferociously because you are mine and that smile is only meant for me.

It will always be much more.

Never thought I would come back to this.
A part two never made sense.
Especially since I hoped that at some point we would be friends.
Didn't really think that things would end so tense.

I told myself that with you ego would ruin me.
That if I couldn't go to you, then there's none I'd confide.
If it wasn't you I could run to. Then I would always hide.

I thought that I would only see colour with you.
That our places, would belong to us only.
The vibrant colours would belong to us only.
Just like the song you wrote for me.
I truly believed that it belonged to us only.

Little did I know.
It was not my ego that would ruin me.
But yours.

You told me that this song was ours.
That it would keep the colours alive.
No matter what.

I know I told you that these places are not mine alone.
Not matter how much colour has drained from my eyes.
They remain beautiful to others.
I know what I said.

I just never thought you would be the one to drain them from everyone.
That you would forget me and change the narrative.

It was your heart on my sleeve.
It was my heart on yours.
It was our place.
Drained of colour to us but so bright to everyone.

But your ego chose to forget me.
Just like your heart decided to let go.

Who would have thought.
That it was not the poet that changed the narrative.
But the artist that really wanted a platinum on their creative.

**** man.
All along.
I thought that this would be our song.
That regardless of the pain we both experienced.
That this. No matter what would be ours.

My poems to you are yours.
But your songs to me are theirs.
Tell me that's fair.

We had a silent goodbye, 
Just merely weeks ago 
So I thought I'd make it more official.

Goodness gracious I loved you, hold on I still do so very much that my heart still aches when I think about you. 
But eh it's just my heart, it's a tad bit silly.
But thank you, for showing me the true definition of Love and friendship.
You taught me so much, I mean I kinda know some abbreviations like "wbu", and other weird ones teens use.
Thank you for being my rock and my best friend in the entire World, for showing me happiness beyond recognisable words.
Thank you for just being you, Gosh you're amazing, funny, and just downright beautiful and I don't just mean it on the outside but on the inside as well. 
We've been through some really great great things, the memories will forever be cherished, I swear each picture, each conversation whether good or bad will stay locked in my heart, in a secret place only reserved for you and just you.
On the other note, sigh I am so sorry for being selfish and stupid, I messed our friendship up and **** I regret it a lot. 
But **** I just I'm so sorry for what I did really I am.
But you know what, I wish you all the best and that you're happy, cos God knows how much I want that for you. 
Hey maybe this isn't goodbye or anything maybe it's a I'll catch you later alligator, after a while crocodile type of thing. 
I hope you see this, it's the only place I get to at least do something for you.
I love you and hey stay swagged up Homie :)

I've always wanted to write about you.
Staring at the stars and wondering about you.
Pondering on the moments we had,
The music we shared
The stories we read
The pages we turned
I remember it all.

I remember it all.

I've been starring out the window
Thinking about you
Preserving our memories
Sinking in our dreams
Realising they aren't no more

It hits hard
Knowing I lost you
The razors hit you hard but never landed you home,
The pills got you two strikes but as a batter you hit strong.
Third strike and I heard, "You're out!" I knew I lost you to monoxide.

I remember it all.
I saw the man that loved you fall to the ground,
Tears stain his skin
Hearts battered on the floor
Lungs tattered and broken voices.

I remember it all

I've always wanted to write about you
But I've never really had the words,
I still don't
But I still want to write about you.

I wanted to write symphonies for you
Melodies of memories
Harmonised stories of our friendship
Because you are family
And I wanted to write you a happily ever after
Because you deserve that.

I remember it all

Standing in front
Watching the mourning faces
Broken expressions
Burnt eyes

I remember it all
Closing my eyes
And praying that God isn't mad at you

Goodbye

This is a product of my emotions
Messy as it is
Jumbled and in need to be released.

I’m saying goodbye,
To the past so beautiful and green,
To the darkness so bright and dull.

I’ve hidden myself for way too long,
Spent days running from the corners and hiding from my demons,
Accepting fate but not realizing it.

I’m saying goodbye.

As I write this my mind holds me back, it whispers to my heart that “It doesn’t hurt”
Yet my heart stares blankly, wondering “If it doesn’t hurt why am I so clouded with this pain, why do I want to fix us over and over again?”

It’s painful, having this need to fight
Having this gnawing feeling inside.

How does one say goodbye to someone they once loved?
Someone you would and still will do anything for them?
I’ve watched my hope wither with each second of empty promises, broken dreams and unfulfilling conversations.

I heard my heart shatter into pieces consistently from truths that I was hearing from third parties while you confidently orchestrated lies to me.
My mind warned me, sparks flew from then.
It told me that we were done but my heart refused, “This is all a misunderstanding”, “I’m not quite as open, I’m to blame”

Running on those words, I healed my heart with lies. But as flashbacks of when I teared my walls, showed you how defenseless I was as grief and mourning controlled me, was I not open enough?
Or was it too much that I was not worth the honesty?

I sensed my eyes ***** with tears as I noticed how much of a season I am to you.
It hurts, not as much as it should be and thanks goes to my mind.
“As long as you anticipate it. It won’t be that bad” it said.

There’s no fixing us,
There’s no being about this facade,
No matter how ‘happy’ I might have been.

But why,
Am I so hopeful that the lie you sputtered of fixing us will be turned to truth?

Why?
When my heart needs to understand that this is goodbye
Your silence and lack to reach out screams in agony of goodbye.
So why am I still hoping?

The truth is.
I go by an easy process.
If you don't think about it.
Then its not real.

But here I am.
Inspired to write.
Solely because I am thinking about you.

Fin

"I couldn't say goodbye, I didn't want it to be goodbye"

So instead you walked out on me.
You made me feel as if I wasn't worthy to you and like I was a ******* that meant nothing and that you could easily walk away from.

When you turned your back on me my heart dropped, wait that's not what you did, I'm making you seem oh so nice to me.
What you did was before you turned and left, you broke through my rib cage,took my heart out and tore it as if it was a piece of paper, from your palms you blew shattered pieces of my heart and they burned and turned into ashes.

Don't tell me saying goodbye was something you didn't want to do because I remember the look you had, you were smirking trying to hold in your laughter
Your dark eyes turned darker and it seemed as if you were enjoying it.

Gosh what you inflicted on me, I wouldn't ever wish it upon my worst enemy, not even the devil himself.

Don't you dare tell me saying goodbye was going to be difficult because I'm sure as hell that saying hello won't be easy.

I promise to write till I have no words with me.
I will write till I've exceeded my limit and can no longer do no more.
And even once my hands are unable to write, I will stay loyal to you.
I will admire the art that you are.

At my lowest,
You held my hands and listened to my withering heart.
You locked eyes with my darkest holes and smiled.
You gave me a pen and whispered, "Write.Anywhere, colour your pain and let me feel it"

During my drought,
We fought.
Countless of times.
I began to lose hope in us but you stayed.
You pushed pens, pencils and papers in my direction and told me to write.
"Good or bad just write, I'm not here to judge", you sang to me.
But I refused.
Blocking your lullaby because I was afraid.
Afraid that I would let you down if it was bad.
I only wanted the best for you.
The best from me.

The drought got worse.
I couldn't write and my heart ached
My souls cried,
My hands itched.
I was craving you.
So I wrote.
Good or bad because ultimately
You won't judge me.

During my moments of happiness.
I wrote a lot,
I wrote till the tips of my hands turned purple.
Till I could feel my own heart beat synchronise with the movement of the pen.
Till my arm cried in pain as my triceps and biceps contracted and relaxed.
I could not stop.
I simply still cannot stop.

You watched me write.
You watched my body grow in anticipation.
Grow anxious to touch a pen.
You smiled and whispered to me
"You're finally writing your heart"

I turned back and looked at you.
Engraved with people's lives.
Coloured with their greatest dreams and nightmares.
Inked with so much of their emotions.

I laughed and turned back.
Jotted down so gracefully.
"She is my heart"

What makes me reminisce on what we used to be?
The underlying scent and taste of our friendship, lingering at the tip
flowing deep inside.
Warming my smile to our memories. No to my memories

Perhaps, maybe that is what makes me reminiscent.
The subtle tone of your laugh, the vibrations hazily crossing my mind,
Traveling to the pits that warmed my soul.

Nostalgia, heavily present
Crazily infiltrating my  mind
Grazing its soft lips against my ear.
Whispering our history.

"I know this is all imagined. That its all in my head but I need closure. Whether it's with you or some mental part of me I need closure.
I've fallen deep in love with this girl. She makes me smile and happy but parts of you pull me away from giving her my all. By parts of you I mean the stains you left. The bruises of trust issues, the third degrees of insecurity and scars. So many scars of I know you're going to leave me soon", I bowed my head and clenched my fists.

"You broke me and left me to pick the pieces. You broke me and left me to blame myself for them. I felt as if I wasn't good enough or that I am not capable of loving someone. That I am only here to cause pain", my voice cracked.

"I need to understand why. Because I can't accept you hurt me when I was the one left in corners crying because of the way you were emotionally and mentally destroying me", I cleared my throat

"Please make me understand", the sounds of desperation roared from my voice.

She sighs and sits on the floor with her legs criss crossed. She plays with the hem of her red shirt and sighs again.

"I'm in your head. An illusion you set in your head to answer such questions. But will I really help you", she grazes her fingers on her bottom lip.

"I mean I'll basically be telling you the words you want to hear. I'll be filling your mind and heart with it was all my fault and you did nothings. But what if the reality is you did hurt me. Would you expect me to tell it to you then?" She cocked her head and laughed.

"I've had people call me an ******* for not treating you right. I tried to explain to them. But I never understood it. I didn't respond a text. I couldn't because I so emotionally drained for a month. You didn't want to talk to me. For once in my entire life I just couldn't. I was tired. But that doesn't mean I ran away or tried to hurt you. For all we know I went to sleep. But you. You told people I started to ignore you.Started to treat you like ****. But all I ever did was love you. With each and every part of me, when I needed you. You brushed me off, you turned me against a lot of people. Caged me in. But I stayed. Why didn't you stay when I was suffering the most. Why did you walk away?", I cleared my throat and hunched my back
"Why?", my voice cracked.

"The truth. The one you were trying so hard to be blind to. The I love yous' felt forced to you. They didn't feel real but you brushed them off, the way I would look at you didn't feel right. But your craving and need to find love made you blind to all those. The truth and the only truth was I never loved you in that way. Maybe you were a rebound, I was just up for having fun", she stood up and dusted herself off.

"That's all", she walked away

I've got my heart on my hands.
Not on a sleeve because I want you to see it properly.

But lately its invisible to your eyes. 
It's just not there when to you.

Let me tell you how it is.
With each silence a crack opens up.
With each moment with you the crack opens up and turns into a hole.
Within that hope, my heart is spitting endless pain.
It's beat is slow and unsteady, but in the sense that it wants to stop.
Because it hurts.

With each blood that drips off my palms leads to tears forming.
My hands are shaking.
My mind is working overtime trying to reduce the pain.

But it hurts.
It hurts so much that I pray for numbness.

I don't think I understand where I went wrong?
I've been trying to figure it out.
And I'm not seeing it because it's been my motive to make you smile and happy but it feels like all these attempts are breaking me.

I thought about texting you.
I keep thinking about texting you.
Yet I just can't bring myself to it.
Because maybe, just maybe I'm being too much of a hypocrite.

I can barley hold on,
I can't hardly grip tight.
I'm worried about you, I miss you.
I just, I can't keep holding on.

I've been slowly breaking since seeing you.
I've been slowly falling and finding myself deep under water.
I can't find any sort of light.
Darkness continues to consume me.
I've lost you.
A piece of myself too.

Why couldn't I be the one to be hurt?
Why you?
Why did I have to be your sole inflictor?

"I know we are not going to last", she takes a drag of the cigarette, blowing out fumes of smoke.
She bites her lower lip and stares into his dark green eyes and sighs.
She takes another drag and closes her eyes.
She wonders how he feels, does he really care the way she does.
Does his heart ache for her the way it does for her.
She sighs again and opens her eyes.  She locks her eyes with the Orange yellow setting of the Sun.
She laughs to herself. 'Such a warm romantic feel yet the atmosphere is dull and cold', she thinks.
She takes another long inhale of her stick, burning her lungs as her mind turns light headed. She smiles, yearning for this feeling everyday.
The boy clears his throat and she stares back at him.
His eyes filled with sorrow and pain, he smiles and sniffles.
"I don't want us to get deep into this conversation", he exhales.
"I don't want the thought of me losing you to cloud my train of thought, Lets not get to that please",
He turns his head away.

Sometime I can't breathe
Sometimes they all turn against me,
Well most times that is.
They fight me, insult me putting me to shame.
Just because I don't have cuts on myself they put me to corners, Using every form of abuse they can.
But the problem is they don't see me pop on these pills every night.
But forget about that I'll be alright.

I've got zolpidem and eszopiclone to take me to an unstable utopia.
Some prozac to help keep this smile.
I've got my best friends by my side.
So you can keep on ******* with me because I ain't got no cuts on my skin.

She has a heart purer than gold
Purer than any other element in the periodic table.
She's like platinum, but she's far much better than a noble element.
She's different but they'll never know


She has dreams of changing the world.‎
Dreams of making it better.‎
Ambitions of allowing her art to express herself.
In simple terms she believes in seeing the light where there's darkness,
And hopes to show it to the world.
But I don't think they'll ever see it

Lately she's been broken.
She's been showing a whole lot of darkness, anger and pain.
She's been drowning in hard liquor 
Getting smashed on strong drugs
Playing around for a good ****.

Her once so smooth innocent voice
Has become sultry, infiltrated with malicious tendencies meant to make one weak at the knees.
Make one ready for a good ****.
She needs the pain out.

"I'm broken kid", she takes a long drag from her stick.
"I know", I sigh

She saved me.
But how do I save her
When she lost herself saving me.

I wish they weren't memories, that they never existed. That they weren't dreams that haunt me each night.
That they weren't thoughts that run around my mind each day.
I wish they weren't real because the more I think about them the more the heartbreak becomes real, the more my eyes start to water and my mind starts to  seek blame on my heart when it knows it wanted just as much as my heart wanted.
I wish I'd stop thinking, just for once, Because for once a day without you would heal what's left of me.
I wish I could forget every single touch that sent a fiery burn on my skin, that I'd forget the tingly kisses you trailed down my neck, the sound of your husky filled with lust voice.
The look you would give me as if trying to decipher me, the look that seemed to only belong to me. I wish they weren't real, that they never existed because I'm still hurt and I don't know how to move on.
How do I move on anyway? You refuse to return my heart back.

I believe in destiny.
Sure I may come off as anti love and non committal but give me the chance to back my statements up.

I’m anti loving someone when you as a human with a beautiful soul cannot see the lighter aspects of yourself.
I’m anti loving another person when you can’t find love in yourself.
It’s somewhat painful and distasteful to want to receive a perfectly beating heart and give back uncertainty because you can’t love yourself.

I’m non committal because I see it in you.
Doubt, fear on what you could find to be true.
You shadow these thoughts and let them take over you.
You let the past of other people define what you see of me and treat me lesser than them.
I’m non committal because your heart is in lust and your soul is charred and blown to dust.

I believe in destiny.
I believe that in a world exists two or more of our soulmates.
I believe each soulmate is for each specific moment and that a specific two are for a more permanent mark.

Your first soulmate shows and teaches you exactly what your soul has been crying and screaming for.
Your second fulfills that underlying pressure the world has put on you about love.
But your second may never come,
Your first may never leave.

But stay believing in love that is yours and you will be okay.

Im anti love and non committal because if you search for these qualities But can never find them in yourself than that toxicity.
That is inhaling the green and spreading it to the lungs of another.

Have you not seen the love that they are portray?
All in it’s broken and incomplete manner.
How can I be so trustful when love doesn’t reside within ourselves first?

"How are you? " concerned voices overlap my sense of thinking. Eyebrows creased in pity, eyes full of sorrow staring right into my lifeless ones.
"Have you cried? " they utter.
I stare blankly at them.
Not having the right answer or response.

See truth of the matter is voices chase me telling me I need closure.
Mind drilling inside me telling me I need composure.
Because truth of the matter is I don't want to believe it.

Life is precious but the sudden hit of death makes you realise that more.
It makes you want to cherish it.
But the sad reality is that, the mindset of what death teaches us isn't going to stick with us.
Weird right?
We start to believe life is short and precious  but give us a couple of days and ****. Mindset gone.

They told me that I needed closure.
From the second they saw my lifeless eyes and limp body.
They told me I needed to let it go.
To accept and understand that this is the circle of life.
They told me I need to shed tears more and be more emotional.
Told me that I should face my fears.

They kept telling me how to react,
What to do and I just couldn't.
I just can't.

Sitting outside looking at the night sky
Watching the stars shine bright I exhale.
I sigh in extreme exhaustion and pain.
I sigh in such a way that my heart and soul are screaming to the world.
Head faced high my mind scatters,
My heart jolts and runs leading to an almost cardiac.
With the sudden need to whisper to the winds and ask them where he is and if he's safe.
Feet trembling with the requirement of making sure he's somewhat happy where he is.
Soul shatters with the idea that I can never see him again.
A stinging longing pain arises in my chest.
Making me stare blankly.

Composure Composure!
My mind screams.
Dare not to dream,  nightmares follow you then.
I clear my painful lump filled throat.

Composure composure, I sing song to myself.
I'm not ready for closure because the reality of losing you finally hits in.
I don't want that.

Only the Broken understand me.
They see the years it took me to perfect this smile.

"I'm dying", I say barely above a whisper.

Her voice hitches and I close my eyes.
I can't bear to see her response,
I know she'll probably tell me to keep fighting.
To keep trying...
But I can't.

It's been nearly two years since I found out.
Two years fighting for survival.
Two years realising I was my own rival.

"Don't say that", her voice breaks.
Her forehead rests against mine, as her hand roams the scars on my arms.

"I can't", my heart aches.
I tense my jaw, hoping to constrict myself from crying.
I swallow the sounds of my cracking heart and pull away.

I finally open my eyes and look anywhere but at her.
I see the birds flying and I hear them chirping,
The sun shinning so bright it contains a bright aura of happiness.
The ***** green grass dancing and moving with the beat of the wind.
Leaves shattering and making a harmonious sound.
I laugh to myself, considering how contradicting the mood between her and I is to nature.

"Please",she begs.
Her voice betrays her as it exposes her vulnerability.
Her whole demeanour dies,
Her knees buckling, holding on trying not to fall while her tears escape her effortlessly.

I shut my eyes,
Bite my lip,
Ball my hands to a fist,
Trying to hold in the pain,
Trying to hide the disease spreading within me.

"Okay, I'll fight it and I won't die", I look straight into her eyes.

"Promise?" She asks.

"Yea", I give her a faint smile.

I lied.

You're my Eve and I'm your Wall E

Depression.

We’ve been living together for the past three months.
And as time moved you invited you friends such as anxiety, self hate and doubt to mess with me.
As the times become now it seems these visitors are now the landlords of my soul.

Depression, as I write with all that I have left.
You have won.
But I will return for what is me.

I wish my sugar coated lies were the sour based truth.
I wish the truth was nothing but a nightmare.

I just wish I wasn't hurting you by lying,
And causing even more damage by being honest.
I wish my silence wasn't hurting you.

I just don't know what to do because either way, no matter what I say or not say will hurt you.

I can only apologise even though I know it hurts.
I'm sorry

It's been hard since you left.
Things got a little intense for Tom and I.
He began to drink, smoke and as he puts it **** some *******.
He's been turning into something I can't recognise and I don't know what to do. I thought I'd let him grieve but its worse now, so I decided I'd pick him up with whatever strength I have left.
It's exhausting taking care of him but he's all I have you know and I love him with my heart and soul.
So yea I'm taking care of him making sure he doesn't relapse, I can't stand the sight of seeing him collapse. It's disturbing really.
I'm tired Em, exhausted and I feel I've reached my limit.
I am a walking mess without you and I want to fix myself but Tom needs to be my number one priority, forget about me right. But I miss you, I sometimes wish you never committed suicide that I was there to prevent you. Anyway I hope heaven is treating you well.

From Rea

To you I write the truth.

Give me an approximate of Thirty.
Slipping in the deep sea of corporate.
Slowly losing self, I feel *****.
Searching for a balance, it’s not moderate.

My soul wanders aimlessly,
My mind searches timelessly.
My heart hasn’t gotten around this.

My eyes are lost in Sea,
Trying to look beyond the blue.
Trying to look for a reality that isn’t so solemn.

As I write to you. I hope that the truth of my voice can still be found.
I pray that my work will continue and that my hands and heart still itch to write.

My reality remains distorted.
Gruntled and dismantled by new environments.
I need an escape,
I need the Earth to call to my soul.
My chakras are dusty.
My lungs are burning.
My throat has gone dry.

Change becomes inevitable.
As it is a process of finding who you are.
But my body twists and turns and looks to this unravel and refuses.
“Cleanse your system”
“You are spiritual not corporate”

And so you called.
You sang to me the wonders of the soul.
You took me, and we travelled.
My soul felt freedom.
And now I write to you my truth.

My perception of truth lies in colour.
Drastically moving and molding into more.
Evolving into a greater theory than that of Darwin’s
My truth distorts reality, it gravitates you away from society.
And frees your mindset from sobriety.
It awakens you to the cult situation of life.
This reality.
It’s so vague with optimism
It’s so drizzled with pessimism.
This reality? It is not one for us.

Listen to my will, draw out your soul and feed from me.
Let my wisdom mold with yours.
Let our visions be two for one.

Your energies burn with curiosity.
Dive deep and stay below.
Explore till your breath cannot.
Open your eyes underwater, fear nothing and feel the burn of your intrigue.

Find your truth near mine.
And discover reality further from it.

"You're supposed to write so that you heal", she whispers.
"Have you forgotten your purpose?"
She nods her head in disappointment.
"You're falling back. And you know very well no one can catch you. Hence why you write.
So that the paper holds on carefully to your scars so that it takes in all your bruises. So that your hands itch not to hurt themselves but to relieve themselves with a pen, a pencil anything. As long as it feels the texture of paper."
"Stop falling back!" She shouts.

I looked at her. I didn't allow her words to sink in. I just looked at her.
Her hazel eyes piercing into my dark brown.
Her eyebrows furrowed with anger and jaws clenched from burning my heart.

"I can't" I exhale.
"I'm too broken to write.
I love the book. I can't stain it with so much pain to the extent that I  can't look at it. I don't read my own work because it traumatises me.
So yes I'm falling back because I can't hurt my book. I want it to be filled with happiness. At least let it tell the story of my shining days.
I can't hurt it", my knees buckle as I fall to the floor.

"I don't want to", I sniffle
"Don't let me", I clench my fists feeling the cold tiles against my knuckles.

She goes down on her knees.
Pulls her hair back and clears her throat.
"You have to write"
"If you don't..." she pauses.
Clears her throat once again and sniffles
"I'll lose you too", she bows her head.

I lifted her chin up and looked into her puffy eyes.
"I hate to make you cry", I sighed.
"But what point is saving myself when we both already lost you?" I whispered.

"Don't say that", her voice shook.
I closed my eyes and sighed.
Slowly removed my hand from her chin and stood up.

"Why do I have to be the one who's alive in this when I long lost you?" I brushed my hair back.
"I just don't get it", I said barely above a whisper, I slouched in defeat.

"Because you're saving me", her voice cracked.

I've got writers block.
I've got a huge *** wall around my heart and mind.
I can't write anymore.
I can't write about the environment around me.
The atmosphere surrounding me.
The pain inside my heart.
I just can't.

It scares me, thinking that I've lost my ability to write.
The craving sensation to feel the texture of the paper.
The way my fingers would curl up and wrap itself seductively around the pen.

It scares me because I feel someone has taken my will to write.
Like they took the biggest part of me and left scrapes and pieces of whatever this is that I am.

I want to run back to poetry, back to art because my reality hurts.
I'm dealing with a broken heart and an unimaginable weight of depression and it hurts.
I try to write about it but the monsters in my head tell me it's no more, that poetry isn't for me.

And that scares me, my one way out isn't a way out anymore.
It's a longing, a dream, a utopia that is no longer existent.

And that pains me.

I've lost my will to write
I've lost the biggest part of me.
What am I if I don't have art to represent my true self?
What am I if my only escape is no longer an option?

Somebody took my will to write.
My will to draw,
My will to create canvases with my mouth.

I don't know but I've lost it all.
God I wish for you back.

I want my poetry to reach a pedestal higher than the words controversial.
I want my words to be a hidden secret between us, somewhat confidential.
I want it to hit you on a Base higher than third.

My mind is bruised.
My heart is swollen.
My soul is in cuts.

My eyes are bleeding.
My entire body is numb but filled with so much heartache.
Ears ringing if heartbreak.

But regardless of this poor condition.
I will wake up each morning.
And still love you with whatever part of sanity I have. 

After all you gave this messed up person a chance at true love.

One day you will hold the greatest love for a toxic relationship.
Although I need to get us out of the mindset that a toxic relationship refers to a love interest.

Most times we resonate in a toxic environment due to family or friendships. And as much as we don’t want to believe that, as much as we don’t want accept such predicaments it’s true.

There exists people that were meant to be there at a specific time to help you realize something. And it happens to be that they weren’t meant to stay, so a cloud of darkness surrounds your relationship as they develop into their true self.

For that you will look for reasons to stay and blind your conscience in order to keep this relationship and it’ll tear you to bits.
Your mind will form assumptions that people change and this is because of outside influence, New squad pressure or the environment is forcing them to.

Frankly I don’t believe that people change, I believe that we develop into who we are meant to be, into our true selves. So I had to remind myself that I cannot come up with anymore excuses, I need to leave this toxicity and save myself.  I also had to remember that if neither of us walks out, we’ll be toxic to one another. I couldn’t bear to hurt myself by constantly holding you back.

If you ever feel bad from walking away from a toxic relationship. Trust me you not only saved yourself but you freed the other person to find their own saving.

Somebody save me,
Before I pull my walls up and before my pride takes over.
I'm in need of saving.

Usually I'm not one for these humble words,
I'd rather ramble, stutter and diverse the topic
Throwing jokes in mid air for you to catch and forget the situation
Only to quickly build walls and listen to my inner demons telling me that I'm alright and that they'll save me.

Somebody save me
Because who I was is not who I am
And that's terrifying,
It's petrifying
And I can't help but shake.

Okay stop.
Truth is right now as we speak, I'm building walls.
Regretting every word that utters,
My inner demons are telling me to stop, they are telling me that I'm fine.
That these thoughts are just non existent.

And trust me I want to believe that.
I want to be able to follow their instructions,
Because truth be told they are the greatest distractions.
But these subliminal thoughts are killing me,
Taking away everything that defines who I am.

I don't know what to do.
'Talk', they say.
' I do' believe me I do.
But talking does not help when they don't listen and try to understand.
I am on the verge of losing myself.
And I keep talking, talking but they keep brushing me away.

"It'll get better, it's all in your head", they say.
Sometimes to be spontaneous they throw half heated "sorry" or "Wow, I never knew", but they did.

Somebody save me.
Because my inner demons are fighting my subliminal demons and it's tearing me to pieces.
One minute I know I'm not okay and the next I say I am.
A few seconds later I'm ****** up and I want to cry and the next my own tears make me feel awkward because I'm okay.

I'm afraid of going home.
The thought is bitter,
It makes me sour.
My inner demons say that it's because I'm a city kid it's a phase feeling.
My subliminal demons tell me , I have not accepted and therefore I'm haunted by what is not home.

I'm afraid of being alone.
Sure my inner demons are on high alert.
They make sure that I am distracted.
That I'm always busy, fiddling, reading,  something.
But the minute I zone out,
Like now, I don't breathe, I Witness my pain,
I feel it.
I'm not alright.
But thankfully just like now. My inner demons take those thoughts away.

Nobody save me.
I'm alright

"Pain is inevitable", she whispered

"But suffering is optional", I countered.

When I found out I had to see you again,
I was terrified.
My body shook, I was petrified.
I lost all sense in me. I was horrified.
I couldn't breathe I was mortified.

The memories came rushing in leaving my bruised heart traumatised.
I couldn't breathe as I thought about how good we used to be,
How happy I was.
How your pearly whites took me further than cloud 9,
How your laugh was filled with so much enthusiasm and honesty,
How your piercing brown eyes took me to utopia,
How your touch was euphoric, better than ecstasy.
How just being with you made me believe in soul mates.

But now it's just sheer pain.
I can't bear to lock my eyes with yours.
My heart holds the pain of a thousand needles pierced in.
It hurts more when I see you.
I still love you.
It hurts so ******* bad knowing you're still in control.

The girl who cried.

Tears burning her cheeks,
Slapping them red.

"She cried wolf!" they spattered.
"It's not our fault!" they defended.

Strangled by her muffles
Burnt by her cracks.

The girl cried wolf,
They howled to show their support

The death of a poet is the death of words left unsaid.
Words that could be beautifully carved into an orchestra of pain, sadness,happieness and a whirlpool of emotions.
The death of a poet is tragic.

As words that people hope to find end up not reaching them because  words could not unfold themselves, they could not evolve from just mere emotions and ideas.
Instead they stay boxed up in the mind of the dead.

The death of a poet is tragic.

Sometimes I just read my work.
I read, analyse and get flashbacks.
From the pain, to the confusion to the love and back to the pain.
The nightmares to my greatest dream and back again to my nightmares.

My work reminds me of how hard my life has been. How painful it has been.
I read my work not all of it but the ones I can handle I read.
I see a child in me then, searching for freedom within my heart.
Searching for some parts of me that I lost.
But then I read a piece further than that. The piece where I gave up on searching for the lost part of me because by then I would have evolved.
Turned into someone stronger who still carries the heavy weight of my past.

Sometimes I read a piece, the ones I'm not supposed to touch and I collapse, my body relapses.
Goes in a neutral stance of holding my legs close to my chest, rocking myself back and forth and asking for the memories to disappear.

But sometimes they don't and I end up appreciating that. I write more about it. Put on a smile and move on. I can't always be down.

And on most days I write about her, my smile, my freedom. The one girl who has picked me up from the darkness and is still picking me up. I'm picking her up as  well. It's like we're saving each other. I write about her and write and write and write and write till my hearts content.

Sometimes I read my work and realise there are people who read it too and I am grateful.

Right now all I want to do is hold on to you tight. Hold you by your waist as I hug you from behind. I want to be near you, with you right now. Listen to your heavy yet steady breathing. Kiss your cheek and whisper nothing but honest words.
I want to feel your heart,your soul, feel your deepest and darkest fears, secrets and take them all in. Let them find shelter in my heart.
I want to be able to know all your flaws, to embrace them and love them as much as I love the flawless side of you.
I want to feel you.
To taste you, and I don't mean this in a ****** manner. No none of that, I want to taste your past, swim in the deepest and darkest ends of your mind. Swim in the lightest and best memories in your heart.
I want to take you in, memorize and fall completely and irrevocably more with the girl you are.

I want to watch myself grow with you. Wait I want to experience all aspects of growing with you. The pain, the suffering, the laughs, the happiness, everything. As long as its with you.

My hands are itching. They itch to write something to express this heart of mine.
My heart is crying to protect you.
To put a smile on your face.
To wipe your tears away and hold on to you tight.

My soul craves your soul, it craves to be in the same area, same place, same spot. It wants to feel what you're feeling. To take all your pain away but it knows.
There's so much it wants to do that it cannot.
But it will be here for you, I will scratch that I am here for you. Good or bad. My heart, soul and mind will go to the end for you. I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
And I'll do anything for you, from the simplest to the most complex.
I am yours and I am here for mines

Shall I compare thee to a winders breeze?
Thou art more cool and clement
Thou art more shinier than the nights stars.
Tis the day they know
The day that they realise how it is you that I cannot fathom.

You have always whispered to me the true nature of the world.
Your energy radiating a voice so pure,
A voice so humbly harmonized
A voiced groomed to perfection,
A sound so perfectly aligned, moved by the hands that have orchestrated.
A sound that has raised my soul through its perfect symphonies.

Shall I say that the winds have whispered to me?
Shakespeare has driven me to an era so old.
An era so new.
An era for hope.

Travel with me.
Let us move to the Victorian lifestyle
Let us challenge Science, philosophy and the wonders of what is now.
Dive into this lifestyle.
And let us compare then to now.
Shakespearean to Victorian.

Travel with me.
To Sonnet 18.1

Give me a sign please.
Let me know you're here, let me know you're alright.
Let me know that you'll never leave,
That you'll stay to comfort me day or night.
That I won't have to fight these demons on my own.

Let me know please,
Open your walls to me and stop shutting me out.
I'm as fragile as you are, lets save each other.

Please give me a sign before we lose ourselves.
I see the hatred in their eyes, I see the way they look at us, I see the anger her parents have for us, they blame us don't they? We're seen as the two kids who couldn't help their best friend.
But please don't let it eat you up.
I cannot rock us back and forth in this cage awaiting for someone to pull the trigger and take us to Emily.
Please stay strong with me, you're my only family.

Please give me a sign.
Let me know you're here, because I'm slowly losing myself to this place.
Please...

"Do you believe in your dreams and aspirations?" I whispered to myself.
Looking at the grey dull sky, I sigh.
"I don't, I can't believe in them"

Round and round my mind goes,
Infiltrating my deepest and finding answers yet here it is.
Avoiding the question that runs kilometers in my heart.
The question that travels the end of me and back.

"Don't I believe in my future?"

I do, I'd like to believe so.
But my dreams fight my heart, breaking through my ribcage. Searching for my mind. Because it's the logical one. It should tell me my dreams. It should lead me in the right direction.

Are my dreams my own,  or are they the subliminal message the world throws at us.
That being making a difference, generating money that never ends.
Or a white picket fence with a family.

Now tell me. My first love was known to be art.
The oil, the fuel that drove my creativity and told me that I had no limits. That told me that I could go above any substantial pedestal.
But they told me not to, that I can't love it the way I should. Which hurt. Broke me until I found sports

But the deafening injuries it set to my body forces me to create a never ending strain. Pain that could never be released and healed if I don't stop.

But just because I loved them, made me wonder if they were my dreams.
Would I really spend the rest of my life on them.
The world tells you to make money out of your hobbies.
But aren't we just following the cycle of follow your dreams which is money?

"Do you believe in your dreams and aspirations?"

I don't know what to believe in.
Somebody tell me what my dreams are?

Because in the end, we are told that success is money.
And money is success.

Does this make money my dream?

I've said a lot of things about how my heart was in desperate need of hope.

But when the illusion flew in, making me believe I got it.
I watched my heart break into a thousand pieces.

I go over our hearts everyday each carved with exceptional words of truth until the very crack that broke us.

Two years later and it still hurts...
Two years later and I still wonder who was at fault to this.

It can't be me because not a day would pass without my heart loving you.
Not a minute would beat without my mind clouded with your voice, smile and just you.
Not a second would pass without the yearning feeling to be with you.

Did I feel too much?

My heart breaks even more with the thought of what we were.
We can't even begin to say we're friends,
That word has become stale to our tongues.

I still miss you.
Us really, we were the best of friends.
The best of everything.

I've said a lot of things about how my heart was in desperate need of hope.
But that need turned into the bitter pain of heart ache.

I want to feel more.
The burn in my lungs.
The iron in my throat,
The bitter metal taste in my mouth
I want to feel more.

I want every part of my body to ache.
To yearn for more.
To scream in agony as my heart flatters in excitement.

There's no greater feeling than physical pain to relieve the emotional but I seem not find that.
No matter how strained my body is.

I don't understand why I'd come here.
But they told me to lighten up, to live but they don't understand.
They just don't get it.
I look up to see the fire dance,
With a sense of freedom in its own little cage,
Filled with so much rage, yet portrays such a beautiful rhythm.
I see a boy across me,looking at me,
His eyes flashing with emotions, each trying to get the bigger spot,
Pain, Sadness, Confusion, Guilt all thrashing in on him.
I see him gulp his alcohol burning his throat and he looks to me.
In his eyes, dare I say it...
I see hope.
I guess it's true what they say.
As I see a traumatising story surge through his eyes to mine.
I wonder, Does the Broken only Understand the broken?
I give him a faint smile and wave.

I run to the walls and ask for them to build around me,
My tear stained heart cries to be confined and protected.
My mind wanders and prays that walls be built around me.

Help me find solidarity in these corners, warm my broken self with your cool embrace.

My tear stained eyes cannot seek for what is not confinement.
It cannot look for anything brighter than the darkness the walls provide.
Protect me, engulf me and allow me to wallow and swallow this pain in your corner.

Close me off, for I have broken what was open.
Heal me and teach me not to find serenity in the voice of others.
Take me to eternal sleep for my heart is exhausted.

I have loved too much, I have broken more than my soul.
Deliver me from this pain.
Help me find solidarity in your corner and allow this mind to be free.

If numbness exists take me there, prepare my soul to be without. For where on Self can I find retribution?
For where in self is a manual on this?

For where on Self were there warning lights?

My own words are used against me.
Staked up face front looking at me,
Backing me up into corners.
The cold wall enveloping my fragile mind and body into a hug.
Strangling me,
Constricting me of air,

As a poet my own words are against me.

Who the **** is with me.

Prior to the trending song, I found solace in the lyrics.
At first, I can admit when I heard the song, I only thought
how Giveon's voice was rich, husky yet so gentle and velvety.

Man was I not wrong.
To believe that I could never relate to his words.
It took some time but I realised.
That for some reason, my heart can't evade you.

Now,
Before this sounds like a confession or anything.
Let's not take it that far, I'm not saying I love you the way I lvoed you then.
I'm not saying, I'm forgetting all the wrong you did to me,
I'm not letting the pain caused go.

But I can't say I don't not think about you.
It feels wrong but it feels right.


If my friends ever found out, I'd be dead by now.
And I understand why, but they wouldn't understand our why not.

I remember how, I wanted to see you, How I spoke it to the universe
Hoping that if I see you, I could have an answer to my what if's and
my why not you's. But at the same time, I didn't want to put that out,
I- No we have moved on by now.
We found people that are good for us.
We can't mess this up, I can't mess it up.

I wondered, If everything my heart yearned for was muscle memory.
I always did go out of my way to see you.
Whether you were mine or not.

"I can't say I love you no more, Because my friends gon judge me for sure"
"It took some time but I realised"
"You do me wrong and it feels nice"

BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE STUCK ON YOU.