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Realeboga M Sep 2015
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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.
...
Realeboga M Sep 2015
...
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.
It's like they forget that not every depressed person cuts, depression has no limits. I run to the pills, he runs to the blade, she lives on the nicotine, he thrives off the heroine, he ***** it away or maybe they just let it devour them. We deal with it different ways not just one.
...
Realeboga M Dec 2016
...
"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?
...
Realeboga M May 2015
...
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.
...
Realeboga M Jun 2015
...
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.
just felt like writing that hehe, dunno really. Meh moments
Realeboga M Jun 2019
As expected this poem should have its wild and theatrical sense of darkness.
From its humor, from each dripping word.
It should be stained and filled with hot to mild darkness.
After all the title already has that harnessed in us.

But what if this is thirteen reasons why I don’t want to be in this darkness?
What if this is thirteen reasons why I need to stop feeling like a mess?

Would it still compel you?
Well... doesn’t matter.

My heart is about to be open today.

1. I went to church today. I hoped to open a deeper level of myself but I got in my head and I let it daze my consciousness and I wasn’t aware of my surrounding. But it awoke when your voice boomed and her hand collapsed on my shoulder. Subtly I remember how her heart bled for my mental freedom. And how her words urged me to not close off. She said something and I felt that. My heart opened a bit and I feel something.
2. I was supposed to go out. Perhaps heavily drink and wipe my anxious overthinking state but deep down I didn’t want to? And deep down was becoming high key. So I got a sign and didn’t. However I did drink not excessive, not to the point of drunkenness but to the point where it  says that I am in control.So believe it or not, my heart opened a little bit. Yearning to be front. About **** *** time really.
3. I thought about you, I am thinking about you. Sitting here, waiting for an EDM song to load on my YouTube, staring at these words flying on my phone and I just can’t help it. I’m thinking of how I can talk to you more or say my most genuine self and something you know? But it’s not just you. I’m afraid it’s also her. And that’s okay, my heart lies in two. But hear me out, I just happen to have my soul mate and my star cross. But I won’t overthink it. My heart is happy with that.
4. I think a lot, sometime it’s very unfortunate but it’s a defense mechanism. A negative one, I overthink the worst and hope that maybe I’m wrong but since I’ve already portrayed it. I just, I don’t ever feel too good Mr Stark.
5. I hate my job. It makes me feel the worst about my self worth. But I need it to persevere or some **** like that. But really it’s ******* with me mentally.
6. Because I get in my head a lot, I over under think and that messes with me emotionally. It turns me to a rollercoaster, I’m just taking everybody for a ride. Spinning all that is around me but forever stagnant till I get repaired for more rides or they just tear me down for something more exhilarating.
7. My heart hurts.
8. My head is overthinking.
9. I want it to stop.
10. Now I told you I had thirteen reasons why.
11. It’s just that
12. I genuinely need to get out
13. And find peace.
Realeboga M Mar 2015
I never loved you...

The truth is what I felt for you was greater than love itself.
Cliche of me to say that I know but people always find a way to describe Love and I couldn't do that with you.

I couldn't sit myself down and rehearse to the walls a heart melting speech on how I love you... I couldn't get my heart to even say those words.
It didn't feel right.

It didn't feel right to the extent that my mind and heart agreed that saying these words would feel like I'm adding a faint colour on my canvas of broken dreams, lost hope, abandonment, lies and far much worse things than pain.  

It never felt right to do that because when I first met you my world never stopped neither did the universe instead they began to move as if I've been stuck on pause for a really long time and you were my play button, you began my life.

I never loved you... But I swear I was always in Love with you and that's why I could never do what they did.
I was going to confess to you that day. I had a bouquet of Lilies and three novels by Dan Brown. I wanted to be romantic in a nerdy way, I'd brought difficult mol equations for us to crack. But I was too late, You'd already left for heaven.
Realeboga M Feb 2018
2018

I gained merely  two Kg, the people I considered friends looked at me and said “If you keep doing this you’re going to be fat”, he laughed
The other said “I see you’re on the road to obesity” he smiled.

I only weigh 48 kg.

So I wonder, how long will my insecurities get to me, how long will I break and crumble and stop eating and overwork myself at the gym?

How long will my heart be anorexic and my mind bulimic.
How long till this nervosa be one with me?

Answer: it already happened.
I don’t think people understand how hurtful their comments are. My entire life I’ve been trying to be skinny or be what people think is appropriate and for once I’m happy, I’m healthy but it’s not good enough. It ******* hurts, I still wear the same sizes but I’m on the road to obesity? I’m too fat? **** those people, I can’t eat without their words lingering, I just don’t want this, I hate this because now I need to do a double take of how I am.
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Realeboga M Oct 2015
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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.
Realeboga M May 2015
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 :)
Realeboga M Mar 2015
Accept me for me.
And I will accept you for you.
I won't judge you or hold grudges against you, I won't make you feel inferior neither will I act like your superior.
I'll do my best to be support you and stick with you even if you hurt me...

But accept me for me, I'm a little messed up, crazy and bipolar.
I am what people call different?
I am what people call a social outcast because I am all in one a ****, a nerd, a geek or whatever you call it.
I'm a bookworm, a wallflower, I like to stick on my own but I do like to go out.

I'm not a serious person because being serious comes with horrific memories of my past so forgive me, forgive me for being childish, its a defence mechanism against this Canvas of pain that surrounds me...

Accept me for me and I'll accept you for you...
You don't necessarily have to accept me, I'll still accept you either way.
Realeboga M May 2015
"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.
Realeboga M Sep 2015
"You're so cute", she giggles.
"Yes I am", I stand up and flex my muscles.
"Liking my boyfriend and ****", she blushes and looks to the clouds.
"I mean if he makes you happy then bruh heck yea", I flex my muscles again.
"I'm afraid he does...", she let's the words linger and sighs.
I Furrow my eyebrows and look at her, "You're afraid?" 
"Ee mma (yes ma'am ) ", she looks at me then returns her sight to the clouds.
I look to the clouds as well, hoping to see or read further into what she's saying. 
I see the grey clouds, bland looking, filled with so much mystery, so many questions, will it rain, will it not rain. 
I look back at her, "That he makes you happy?, kana I might be reading a tad too much into this"
She laughs,"I am, what are you picking up?"
I chuckle nervously,"‎That maybe you actually mean that this vast amount of happiness is scary and you don't know what to do with it". 
Her ****** expression changes  and her eyes glow with wariness, "Yes, exactly".
"I think you should enjoy it or something? I mean remember how we had a conversation and we don't truly believe in it. I think like just embrace it, I don't know how though", I scratch my head shrugging.
She looks at me and gives me a sad smile, "I'm enjoying it.. but kana 'monate o hela ka bosula' (Good things always end badly)", she sighs.
"That is so true. I mean I don't think we can ever be ready for that so I can't tell you to prepare yourself or always expect the unexpected because regardless of how it is it will always be unexpected. But according to Buddhist or monks they believe that if you imagine the bad to happen then it'll hurt less, I mean sure it may hurt like a ***** but it won't hurt like a ******* as it was", I look at her and smile
She looks to be in deep though, "Hmn. Monks or Buddhist are smart", she smiles back at me.
"Yea", I grin and look back at the clouds
Realeboga M Feb 2016
"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
Realeboga M May 2020
You stare into your mobile device.
Brows furrowed.
Searching for a sign,
A subliminal message.
Some sort of affirmation.

Why?
Let the past ponder on its own.
Let the future build itself.
Overthinking and searching so desperately for a sign makes it harder for fate to do its own work.

Relax yourself.
Realeboga M Apr 2015
I want you...

In ways that I cannot define.

I miss you...

My heart beats less without you as if I'm dying.

I'm lost without you...

My heart is constantly searching for you that I'm usually never aware of where I am.

I need you...

I literally feel complete with you.

Be mine.

Because I promise to give you all of me in ways I have never. I'm usually never one for emotions but for you, I'll try, I'll put in extra effort because I care and you mean so much to be. So Please be mine. Allow me to do my very best to make you happy.
I don't believe in happy endings but if they ever exist I hope that you'll be it. My fairytale, My happy ending.
Realeboga M Aug 2016
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.
I seem to be saying the wrong things I seem to be messing things up. I'm sad
Realeboga M Apr 2015
"I don't understand, If you know that it can **** you, then why don't you continue to consume it?"

Ask a smoker why they continue to smoke even if they know it could give them cancer.
Ask an alcoholic why they continue to drink even if they know that it could destroy their liver.
Ask her why she's chasing him even though she knows he's only going to cause the worst heartbreak and probably destroy her.
Ask him why he's still popping his veins on some drug even if he knows that everything around him is dying and he's soon to be next.
Ask him why he's cutting himself even though he's only breaking himself inside out and creating scars that will haunt him.
Maybe they'll give you an answer that I cannot give you.
I could say I'm doing it for the thrill but the reality is it's an addiction that I cannot fathom.
Realeboga M Jan 2019
Bear with me for a few minutes or throughout majority of the poem.
There’s some writers block with me.
Yet there’s a need deeper than my subconscious to write about you. A wholesome want that needs not be subliminal.

Each word, each syllable drips baring truth.
No seduction, no romance or any other double entendre.
It’s just a need to write, not for you but to write and it happens that you are the subject.

Growth comes with its formality.
Change opens our eyes to reality.
And the whole process either makes or breaks our mentality.
Not really sure whether you’re afloat or being pulled down by gravity.
That’s just the whole nature of being an entity.

Empty, sometimes growth leads to that.
Hollow, a formidable pit that keeps getting deeper.
It drags you but then again what can be done?
You’re just a life seeker.
Trying to get more, to feel more just without the ruckus of pain.

A turmoil,
You roll and roll and spin and wonder why am I moving so much, so fast?
It’s a process.
Never mind feeling confusion.
It’s just an illusion.
Or a way of getting your mind to really look at things.

I hope I didn’t lose you.
Because often in search of truth we get lost.
And no I am no truth but I’ll bring you honesty.

Consequences. No more, no less than the word guilt. We live in it, sometimes take pleasure in it. But primarily grow because that is it’s end game. Growth.

Self awareness.
Look in the mirror and appreciate, not what is outside or inside but what is you. Because growth is that, appreciation of self.

Incomplete. A feeling so deafening, so loud and corrupt. A feeling that can just be so abrupt to your conscious.
And so for that be cautious.

The mind requires freedom and love. Love from yourself and freedom from your negative self.
Only then can you truly feel growth.
And only then can you see yourself past the pain and tribulations.

This poem is not done, but it is complete.
Happy 2019!
Realeboga M May 2016
They told me to take things back to the 90's
Take things back to the heart
Told me I should have done this from the start.
But the views from my six are contoured.
Covered in foundations of fuckboys, fuckgirls and blessers.
So tell me how do I express my heart when this generation believes the only functioning ***** should be brain,
Because heart will **** you
And the others are going to die from harmful ingestions.

They told me to take it back to the 90's.
Take things back to the heart.
So here I go.

The basis of my poetry has always been pain.
My heart and soul always confining in a dark pit of abyss.
My body constricted in a corner
Huddled up, popping everything it could.

Now the basis of this story isn't about you saving me,
But how you gave me your hand, shoulder, smile and wisdom to the path of saving.
Of how you opened your chest, tore out your ribcage and gave me your broken heart as you took mine.
Of how you taught me pain is inevitable but suffering is optional
Of how you showed me true love.
And how grateful I am.

In twenty four hours the heart beats 115200 times.
At least fifty percent of the time my heart skips a beat.
This means from 57600 beats and above are skipped.

A week consists of seven days
In hours that's approximately 168.
As like the first at least fifty percent is lost in thought of you
Which means 84hrs and above I think about you.

An average of all 12 months is approximately 140 days.
Okay skip the math, let's get straight to the conclusion.
Math is a fine art of illusion.
Filled with various abstract to distract you.
But the rule is you will always find your x.
The x that completes your equation.

So what I am saying is that you complete my equation of life
You're my X.

Literature teaches us to express our feelings in terms of literal devices.
From anecdotes, personification to lititoes.
It tells us to sing with our hearts,
Speak with our souls and allow our voices to do it all.

Like Christina Rossetti,
"My heart is like a singing bird"
"For my love has come to me"

Look truth is you give me butterflies.
You make my heart swell up in happiness.
You make me feel alive.
You make me stutter out of nervousness.
You make me want to impress you.
To always put a smile on that beautiful face.
You make me want to hear your laugh every single second.
You make me happy
Which makes me want to make you happy.
Because pain is a feeling we all get to experience
But happiness is rare and I want you to feel it.

What I am trying to say is
I'm taking it back to the 90's
To the early 2000's
To tell you, you're one in a million
That I'm stuck on you
And that I am madly in love with you.
Realeboga M May 2015
"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.
Realeboga M Mar 2015
"Mummy can we dream?, can we pretend we're not living in the streets?
Can we pretend to be high and mighty sipping on some coffee with cream?
Can we mum?"

"Mummy can we dream? Can we pretend the muffled screams are sounds of joy rather than pain?
Mummy can we please?"

"Lets pretend dad's here, he's happy and you're not crying yourself to sleep.
Can we pretend that I don't have these scars and that my uncle never hit me with beer bottles, lets pretend he bought me a teddy named cuddles".

"Mummy can we dream?"
"Can we pretend Aunty never killed herself and that Granddaddy never pulled the trigger on Grandma?"

"Please mum lets pretend?"
Realeboga M Apr 2017
Been a couple of months running high on writers block.
Been searching for my sense of writing, wait. I haven't been doing that.
Been crazy focusing on school and the girl of my dreams.
Been stressing on exams and trying to get my life together.
Been hoping for some sort of light in my writing without trying to force it.

The beginning of my birth month has been a bit of a downfall.
Losing friends that matter and having a couple setbacks with school.
Lost the love of my life got her back but I'm confused.

It's in my best interest to have her  but not in hers to have me.
Should I tell her to do what's right even if it doesn't involve me?

I'm confused and this doesn't make sense I know.
I'm sorry, it's just that I need more than the physical to explain myself
Realeboga M Feb 2019
I'm writing this piece  because I lack peace of mind.
I seem to be lost and there's no hope to what I can truly find.

Empty, dull, uneventful
Tired, broken, distasteful
Conflicted, numb and just downright exhausted.

I'm trying to take a break from everything that reminds me of how hollow I am.
But it requires slipping into isolation.
I've heard quite a lot of stories about how dangerous a path it is.
It's just that I can't help it. I find no reason in myself, just a lot of trapped cages in my heart.
A lot of mental walls, barriers to my name.

I feel pain, I feel an overwhelming amount of pain, heavily weighing me down.
I need escape, I need solidarity.
But that means losing the little that I have and end up with nothing.

Naturally, instinctively that's daunting. But I'm trying to love myself.

I'm trying so hard. But it doesn't feel good enough.
I keep trying to open up to myself but I end up building so many walls.
I...
I find it difficult to finish this poem because I don't want to be true to myself
Incomplete.
Realeboga M May 2016
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.
Realeboga M Oct 2018
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 will be back
Realeboga M Nov 2017
Ain't no sun shines brighter than the one that burns me
I'm a writer but I can't get the words out
And to some extent that thought haunts me,
It daunts, haunts me.
It plays melodies of depression,
Symphonies that require expressions,
Harmonies that need synchronizing
But keep agonizing
Keep agitating
Aggrevating

Demoralizing my need.

When last did you write?
When next will you write?
Where's your freedom of expression?
Is it drowning in your mild depression?
What happened to your passion?
Your sense of poetic style and fashion?
What's up with this caution?

Did at some point poetry break you?
Or the need to give your heart to specific words hurt your need?

What's going on?

"Hell, I just can't write. I can't put up a fight, I'm out of my mind. Traveling in  a mental continuum searching for constellations that will support my mode of writing and give me the strength that I need"

That's more than enough to make us wait then.
poetry passion love depression feelings confusion writersBlock
Realeboga M May 2015
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
Realeboga M Jun 2015
"Wow Rea you've got the most beautiful smile ever"
"*** I Love your smile"
"Gosh girly you have such a genuine smile"
An Eccedentesiast is someone who hides their pain behind a smile. I Think I make a very good one hey.
Realeboga M Feb 2020
"Can you tell me what you really feel?"

He stares into my brown eyes. Confusion running heavy on his bloodshot eyes.

"I'm really trying to get the grasp of this, because if I can understand where your heart is, I don't have to stand here, worried and rumaging through my already dark mind", he sighs.

If I could find a way to let him Know how I am. It should be through poetry.
And if he can understand, I'm sure she will too.

I have had a lifeline of broken support.
In that instance it means that there's no possibility of someone being able to protect me.
I have given my heart willingly to what I assumed would love me back.
You've seen that backfire on me.
You've seen me retract back like a dog with a tail between its legs.
And I know how it hurt you.
It hurt me too.

Knowingly you took it upon yourself to create a barrier of protection between our friendship. Forming something that could offer some sort of relieve to us both. And in it's own way it did work.
Surely for a very long time, I could bare my heart break to you.
And you could allow me to be overwhelmed by your pain.
We did that.

"So are you saying you don't need my protection?" His voice breaks.

I'm saying that you need mine more than anything. I have a bruised beating heart that is protected by a soul that I've never quite met and thats okay.
She makes me feel safe,
she makes me feel protected and she makes . me smile and laugh.
I am more alive with her. Her love is remarkable. So what do you say?
Let me protect you?
My heart is in safe hands.

"Okay"
Fey
Realeboga M Sep 2015
Fey
I'm addicted to you.
That is the truth and the only truth.

Like the hard drugs you take the pain away.
You take it all away and fill it with the warmest touch.

Maybe what they say is true, maybe you're not good for me. 
Maybe you're bad for my system.
But they need to understand that you're my first Fey.
I remember our first touch in the winters day.
Your warmth invaded my hands, travelling down my spine creating the most surreal goose bumps.
I remember our first kiss, It was bitter but in the sense that I couldn't get enough of you. The way you Tasted and the way you smelled. 
The way you trickled down each part of me.
I love how everything seems to just disappear with you, I have the best laughs, the best conversations, the heated moments of just pure bliss and ecstasy.

They say you're no good for me.
But compared to the others they keep their mouths shut.

You're my addiction Fey,
You're the Caffeine that keeps me up.
I'm at  my highest with you.
My lowest without you because the reality that surrounds me is pain. 

You're my addiction Coffee.
My one and only escape from this Coffee.
Realeboga M Aug 2015
"Forever?" she whispered.

I closed my eyes and held the bridge of my nose.
I sighed, "I don't believe in forever"

She gasped, 
"You don't?", her eyes became watery

"The concept of forever scares me, The idea of looking deep into your eyes and prophesying forever only for it to not be forever", I cleared my throat.
"I don't want put us both in an emotional disaster, I'm not about building ourselves only to be the main destruction of this utopia"
"I love you in a way that I have never loved anyone, you're my first"
"My first kiss, my first spark, my first intensified butterflies, my first everything, I can't let a promise of forever get in the way of that, I won't and I'm sorry but I can't promise you a forever, I love you too much to sell each other dreams" I sigh

"I lost my best friends to a forever, The first one committed suicide and I don't know what happened to Rhea, she's closed off, she's gone, she's all ****** up and here I am recovering from the worst kind of pain because I found you", I sniffed, clearing my throat to force the silent whimpers down. 

"I'm not ready for a forever", I bowed my head.

"I'm not ready to lose you", I whispered
Realeboga M Dec 2017
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?
Realeboga M Oct 2015
Welcome to my testimony.
Silently allow my words to infiltrate your mind and create this imagery of a matrimony.
Allow these words to cluster your mind,fill your heart as your veins pop with excitement as I take you through the ceremony.

I was battered,
Emotionally tattered.
I saw my soul walk away from me.
I watched my demons come at me in forms of alcohol, pills, depression and anxiety.
I ran to the corners and they whispered for me to confide in them.
I choked on my words as these monsters were inside my ear, inside my head, I covered my eyes as they were lurking in. Smirking to me and telling me it was over.
I tried to run to you but I couldn't, tried to express myself but I felt like a broken statue.
I forced myself but still nothing.
I was worried, terrified, petrified, all the words in the dictionary.
I tried to say something but my vocabulary left me,
My pronunciation betrayed me.
I felt myself slip from your grasp.
I shouted and screamed as I watched your eyes fill up with black ink.
You closed your eyes as you let go of me.

As I was falling off,
The wind tried to push me up,
Tried to save me but the demons fell heavy on them that they let go.
I fell back first on the pointy rocks,
Vertebrae cracking as it made contact with the rocks,
Ribs cracking while stabbing deep into my broken heart.
I laid there for months.
Wallowing in the heat while embracing the heat.
Thinking about you

It took me a while to realise you're worth the fight.
That you're the reason for my blissful nights.
You were my teddy when I was scared, I always held on to you tight.
But I let you go that day
I never fought for you with all my might.

And I apologise.
You're my freedom,
My emotions, my thoughts
My only hope in this world.
Poetry you're the one.
And I'm back for you.

Watch as I please you with my lyrical words.
As I go bases higher than third.
As my words hit you to home run.
As my words become the golden goal.
Poetry I'm back for you.
I'm back for you always poetry.
Realeboga M Apr 2019
You make me realize how empty I am.

At long last, I have felt purely and wholly indifferent to everyone.

My toxic has overwhelmed and left me.
This is my cry for help. I've always saved everyone, Who's going to save me?
Realeboga M Jun 2019
.

“You’re the one that I lean on”

Emotions
Emotions
Emotions.

How do I expose my ulterior when I had shut down my interior.
My motives remain different but still plastered with the same smile I put out on my exterior.

But this.
Slightly different.
Wholly honest.
Well I would hope so.
After all this is a piece with the heat of the moment.

Black and white.
White paper, black ink.
Nothing more, hopefully nothing less of the truth.

Within, without your pain or mine.
I want you to have your specific happy ending.

If you do believe that happiness is non existent and your toxic fully carries you and makes you feel.
Nothing to do with being alive. It just makes you feel.

Then let your toxic consume till the day your soul tells you otherwise and pleads for you to settle.

Let what you want and dream of happen now.
I wish you nothing but all that you desire.

There’s never ever any negativity that I would wish for you.

But admittedly my pain will always be written and if you take it as a jab to your chest.
Truly do not.

I only express my truth to poetry.
Don’t let it make you think negative of yourself.
Allow it to show that I’m human, I hurt, I feel, I love and laugh.

Just find your own Happy ending.
I’m radiating positivity to you.
Realeboga M Feb 2019
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.
The ramifications of becoming an occurrence.
A memory of return
Realeboga M Nov 2019
I attempted to get over you in a more childish manner.
Ignoring all my feelings and assuming that going through the motion of not feeling my emotions will help my heart get over this.

I failed.
I lost myself in the process and drowned in toxic.
I tried to stay afloat but my mind kept telling me I’m being deluded and that everything in me is sick.
I kept excluding my mind and I kept including my hearts messy ways.

I know what love like you means.
It’s a complete beauty of all things pure and addicting.
And as I had every single dose of you, I couldn’t imagine...
I can’t even say.

Regardless of what couldn’t be it became my reality.
Pulling me down and forcing me to run away from sobriety.
Clashing my very form of solitude to what society classes me as.

I chased the toxic and high that was supposed to make me forget you.
But distant flashbacks of you brought me back to my depression.

I’m not saying you are the reason behind it.
But remember my mental state wasn’t doing so hot yet you managed to cool bits of it.

I attempted to get over you in the worst way possible.
And now.
I’m trying a more cleaner state.

It’s not an attempt.
More of a clearer better way to be away from you.
I promise you I’ll be happy
Realeboga M Feb 2020
I have 99 reasons to be happy.
But my depression has one that keeps dragging me down.
Realeboga M Nov 2016
But I don't know what I miss exactly.
Or if I really miss you.
The misshaps of death might have left me here,
But I miss you.

You were a cruel bitter sweet memory of my childhood.
A surge of pain and heartbreak in my eyes.
The reason behind her glass eyes and exhausted posture.

I miss you.
The sudden heavy weight of death.
Caused a rising pain in my chest,  a cut in my throat.

There exists a black hole.
Piled up with emptiness, searching for more.
Hoping to fill it.

I miss you.
Your lips moved in hate.
Spitting senile, hatred words.
Staining my heart.
You never really had a soul from the start.

I miss you.
I miss the days you were goofy
The days you made me laugh.
The times life shined through and showed us the gentle side.

It hurts, missing you with a dash of hate.
Hate for you not being able to apologize.
For you breaking what we were.
The bond we once had.

The awkward moments rose each day.
Every time you died a little.
Everytime the hospital stench started to feel like home.

I miss you.
You hurt me.
Them.

I miss you.
I feel incomplete.
Come back.

Please.
Realeboga M Sep 2019
Do you judge me for being non committal?

Do you look down on me and wonder as to why I have such strong negatives on love?
Do you ever give me a solemn look and try to reconstruct what went wrong with me?
Who hurt me and why?

Because all you can do is ask.
I’ll tell you why I’m non committal.

But regardless of how simple it is.
I see you.
Racking your brain, staring deep into my eyes.
Hopeful that you could save me.
And of course naturally my response seems like you’re my hero.

And it feels great to you. To be the woman to change my pain and turn it into something better.
Realistically, I’m afraid I’m racking my brain over having someone as great as you and still feel nothing.

Instinctively I react to all the things you want me to react to.
I flow to your sensitivity, to your movements and to your soul.
My body in sync with everything that you are.
And it feels like it should be great but I’m in the worst state of indifference. And I want to hate it, but I feel nothing towards it.

I see you though.
It’s unfortunate that you don’t see me all the way through.

And even if you did. What good will it do but cause pain.
Realeboga M Jul 2016
So I had something written down but then I completely erased it. It felt as if I wasn't saying much.

So I'll try this. In a relationship people always have this objective of trying to save someone. I don't know if that makes sense. But someone is always trying to be your hero. Like they feel that they have the power to make you feel safe yet be able to take that away from you. Because without a hero like maybe Superman or Spiderman where would the city be right?

But I think differently. Getting to know you made me realise something. I wanted to be my own hero so that I can be the best girlfriend ever. I wanted to be my batman so that I can protect you, my Gotham city.
But as time moved on. You opened wounded layers of me and you still are opening them. And you're by my side helping me close them. And then I thought to myself. Wow this girl is amazing.
She's not the typical I want to be your hero person any random person meets.

You showed me something about a relationship. It's not about being your own hero but that does play an important role. It's about finding someone who connects with you. It's about finding someone who's willing to help you with your journey. About finding someone who's helping save you. Someone who's by your side.
Like a sidekick. Most people think less of them. But look at Batman. He has Robin. And without him Gotham isn't safe.

Look at the Avengers as weird as it seems they have more than one person helping each other out.

Or even Spider-Man. He has his own guys with the help of Shield.

I'm getting to my point don't worry.

See the problem of having to be your own hero is that we have cracks that we can not get closure or get them filled alone. And for that we ignore them. And these cracks just keep on getting worse until we are at a point whereby we don't know. Literally we don't.

For example one of my cracks I have is my lack of confidence.
On my own. I would have probably ignored it or come up with a situation whereby I just need to lose more weight. I'd probably be anorexic by now.

But because I have someone like you. I'm finding ways of trying to appreciate myself. Because I'm a beautiful person. I'm a good kid. My baby says so and it's true.
You help me help myself be better. You're by my side as I try to save and find myself.

Which is something I want to do for you
It's something I'm going to do for you. I want to be your sidekick. Your Robin.
Opening up is hard. I know and I understand. I care so very deeply for you baby. Shucks I'm madly in love with you
I want what's best for you. I want you to have the most amazing life ever. I want your heart and mind free from everything that torments you.

But what I do not want to do is force you ever.
I will never get impatient with you. And even if you push me away. I'll stay right here and keep it solid.
Each time you're sad. I'll type the longest message ever. Especially if I can't get to you immediately

I love you. I really do
And I'm here. To talk or not, I know that sometimes we just need to be there for one another and not talk. Just for us to embrace each others presence and I'll be there for that

I'm your Reastar
Your girlfriend
Your best friend
I'm yours
Realeboga M Jul 2020
I **** in my pain the same way I **** my stomach in.
I inhale till my tummy feels basically flat even though you can see it sticking out.

I take care of my pain just the same way I take care of my weight loss.
I go to extreme measures of not eating and then one day explode and eat everything till it physically hurts.

I'm not doing a good job.

I think I fully hate myself more and more now
Realeboga M Sep 2020
There's quite a lot that I could put to words.
And to be fair subliminals aren't my forte.
But consider today a different story.
There's just so much I'd want to relay.
But so little ways to convey.
Without getting in trouble that is.

I'm not saying much,
But I'm saying everything all at once.
Can you tell I'm subbing you?
Realeboga M Apr 2019
I don't write love song or poems anymore.
I don't write how infatuated I am anymore.
I don't spew my heart anymore.

I am anti love, but in the sanest way possible.
I  have lost myself to love and I have found myself toxic for love.

I don't write about how you broke my heart.
I don't write about the gnawing pain.
The constant sting.
I don't.
I don't.

I write about how lost I feel.
How awake I seem but so congested I am.
Subliminally I have never felt so disappeared.
I have never felt so without soul.
There's a hole that has sunk the whole of me.

Who am I?
Where am I?

The girl, no the woman in the mirror, staring right back at who should be me. WHO IS THAT?

Out of sight,
Out of mind,
I am running out of time.
Realeboga M Mar 2016
"Insecurities are the worst demons to live with", she stands at the podium.
"Can anyone tell me what insecurities are?", she stares in front, looking at the ten students who were presumed to be messed up by the school board.

A boy with a blue hoodie raises his hand.
"Insecurities are our fears of our fears coming true, it's the absence of feeling safe or secure. Which leads to an emotional turmoil of trying to fix them. To ignore them but ultimately they end up taking us", he speaks confidently as his head is bowed.

"Have you had your fair share of insecurities? ", the girl walks up to him and crouches. She notices the exhaustion in his demeanour, the pain, hidden secrets. And death in his green eyes.
He stares at her brown eyes, filled with sincerity and concern along with a dose of hope. She finally found them.

"Haven't we all?", a girl with grey blonde hair speaks up.
Heads turn and look into her direction.
She plays with the hem of her shirt,
"We started off carefree. Young and willing to explore, we meet people who change our lives who make worthwhile but then others. I don't know about them but they take parts of us and play with them, they toy around with them and then drop us. Like old unwanted toys. We begin to wonder, question our hearts, search our minds trying to figure out where we went wrong and that hurts. We then build unnecessary yet necessary theories as they begin to make sense.  That's when they lurk in. That's how we get them", her voice shakes

The boy with the hoodie sighs, "And to think that's only the first part of them", he looks at the lady and croaks his head, "Studies show that we can get rid of these insecurities but I don't know. I've tried all these measures all the ways of getting rid of them but they don't ever leave. They stay, they don't even lurk in. Shucks depression is nicer than being insecure. Depression leaves for a while. But this", he shakes his head and massages his temples.

The lady walks up to the podium and sighs, "Being insecure is a painful thing to experience because with insecurities comes more demons willing to take advantages of you, willing to destroy you trust me I know"

A girl with glasses begins to laugh, "Everyone here knows that Miss, we're all insecure, this could be in terms of our grades, our love lives, our family, our lifestyle, our sexuality, we are all insecure. But the question here is how do we get rid of them? How do we feel normal? How do we get rid of this insane feeling, the hostility we feel from our own selves. How!?" She pushes her glasses.

The lady sighs once again, staring at the girl. She closes her eyes, "I don't know. I believe there's no way out with insecurities. They manifest inside us, they evolve and they become stronger. All I do is face them head first. I stopped thinking and accepted them. I am insecure and I am learning to accept that I am not perfect"

"Do you think that's the answer Miss", the boy with a red bandana scratched his head.
"Acceptance?" His voice heavy with a British accent.

"You said you learned to accept your imperfections and here you are now. Talking to us about our issues. Does this mean you're no longer insecure?" He furrowed his eyebrows.
"Does this mean there's hope for us?" He smiled exposing his pearly whites.

The lady sighed, pondering on how to answer that.
" I don't think that's what she meant", the boy with the hoodie speaks up.
"What she means is that once we learn to accept them like she did. We can learn to move on. To live with them. And truth is they won't hurt us as much as they do now. I mean we know we're not perfect and its okay. It's about acceptance and appreciation of our scars"
Realeboga M Apr 2020
In the case of me not ever getting over you,
I was worried that when you find love, I will live in pain.
And ultimately it would ,mean my feelings were and could have been in vein.
It would also be ironic, your happiness would cause the blood stains in my heart.
It's like, perhaps what I sought to be love that doesn't end was just a toxic figment from the start.

In the case.
But that's not what's at state.
I told myself that for me to love another, I must fully let go of you.
Of course I thought it wasn't possible, but my reality proved other.
For I too have found another.

She's not you.
She's not a predefined version of you.
She is everything I need and want.

And in the case you find love outside of me.
Know that I am so happy for you.
Realeboga M Nov 2015
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
I know I'm not mad at you, but I'm no one big but I get it. You did what you had to do to save yourself and I'm okay with that.
I loved you then and I love you now
You're family
Suicide can't change that.
Realeboga M Jul 2020
I'm not saying my poems are a cry for help.
But I'm also not saying they are a sign of elation.
It's just that for so long.
Till now, I have to be the bearer of strength.
I have to forget that I'm human and I'm suffocating.
And deal with everyone else.

And for a long time coming.
I knew I'd reach a point of being tired but never stopping.
Of being broken and down but my support to others never dropping.
The only thing down, would be my own self.
Burning and turning to ash as I fix everyone.
As I make them feel good.

Now Look at me.
Unaware of who I am.
I don't know

I just
I think, I'm not okay.
And I don't even know the first steps.
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