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Pry me open.

Use a chisel and a hammer,
a surgical retractor,
or just your effortless words,
but please just
pry me open.

And cut into me,
make me bleed.

Open me up,
let the emotions flow.
There will be a mess on your floor,
please don't mind it.

Just let all of melancholia shed
itself out of the confinement of my
tightly guarded chest.

Please don't stop.

Pry me open.
Let me bleed out.

God knows,
I will feel anything.

Anything but this.
 Oct 2013 Roegsana Moosajee
Tea
You cant tell that behind my red lipstick
And matching clothes I wear a secret
I live out of a bag, but not out of regrets
My life is a story that no one had the time to read yet
Its deep, long but filled to the brim in secrets
Someone sees me and wouldn’t believe me
When I say
I am
homeless
Life happens and that’s okay
I took a chance and it didn't go my way
And I walk through a autumn day and see homeless people
Just
Like
me

I walk through the wit past the deer head painting on the bridge
A homeless man who always sits says
Good morning
I give him a grin and I can tell it made his day
Some kinda sad bearing down, as it begins to rain

I remember when I was moving out into the world
Boxes packed,rain fell in sheets
I gave out boxes of coats, and hope for warm feet
And someone said it was nice of me
Something
died
in me

Would you not do the same for me?
What happened to humanity?
I wonder what would happen
if my friends were different
if a couch wasn't an option
I'll move on then
I see myself in an old mans crazed eyes
As he sits at the bus station voided and deprived
And something inside of me dies a little
When everyone sees
With cast away eyes
Difference in a little
lipstick
Age
Time
A little more life
That didn’t go right
Without this break I wouldn’t have got
The full time job
My way back on top

And they key to his heart
Is as simple as socks
You should look away
Feel some kind of shame
You can at least say good morning
Remember his name
or at least see him as human
I wonder what would happen
If I didn’t have red lipstick
Life had chewed me up a little longer
Would you walk past me
In your Cold steel armor?
homeless
or hopeless
you pick the title
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.
Happy birthday doesn't seem to suffice
When the one you love is all so nice
So here's a poem from my heart
Hope it reaches yours though oceans apart

Bless the day when you were born
When angels sang and heaven was forlorn
Losing you was not their aim
But the time was ripe, all the same

Tears  were shed in the heavenlies
Your mates up there threw you a gathering
I was there and feeling sad
You said don't worry, I'll find you, yet!

That was some decades ago
And here we are found and found
Elliot York was to be born
To create HP, so we no longer need to mourn

Almost a year, oh what a ride
is it amazing, that we're still out of sight
visions of future laughter furnishes my nights
my days are not so bad with you as my guide

wishing you well and wishing you gain
wisdom and wealth and hopes and dreams
Four plus nine is not so young
only a little while more and we'll both be done
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