17 | 31 Poems for August 2016

I understand the fact that I am not always easy to understand.
Loving me is complicated and maybe that’s the beauty of it all.
I never really knew how to handle this beautiful thing called love.
So I always thought that someone would be able to show me how.
“You’re not easy to love” are words I’ve heard too many times before.
My hyperhidrosis is evident but how long will you keep on looking?
I know that my smile is flawed and crooked but it’s worth the picture still.
Let me write my wrongs until I’m right within but where should I begin?
Walking through a graveyard littered with my ideas and thoughts.
Littered with my endeavours of trying to be someone worthy of your love.
You don’t believe in me so who am I to tell the world about our story?
Just another spoken-word poet from Pretoria trying to attain his glory.
These words are written with great effort but you never pay attention anyway.
You know that I’ve got hyperhidrosis but I try not to sweat the small stuff.
I never really knew how to handle this beautiful thing called love.
So I always thought that someone would be able to show me how.
“You’re not easy to love” are words I’ve heard too many times before.
My hyperhidrosis is evident but how long will people keep on looking?
I know that my smile is flawed and crooked but it’s worth the picture still.

the gallon of arizona green tea that you only drank a fraction of.
the salt and pepper potato chips you meant to eat, but only did so in the dream i had last night.
the unmade bed that was still unmade when you flew back home, the one i still cannot bring myself to make.
the dyed green hairs i keep finding around the house.
the way you always pronounced 'mosquito' as 'mosk-it-toe' on purpose, and how you pronounced my cat's name 'sullumun' instead of 'solomon' on accident.
the partially closed closet door from the morning i drove you to the airport.
the faint smell of your sweat on my pillow left because of your hyperhidrosis.
the flannel you wore and the longsleeve shirt you doused in your aftershave, that is three sizes too big for me to realistically wear.
the empty taco bell cups in my car from your fourth day here.
the empty shopping bags from our impromptu mall trip.
the polaroids you really wanted to keep, but we couldn't find when you packed.
the pieces of you that you never meant for me to keep that i keep piecing together as though, like an alchemist, i could make you appear again though i cannot, and you are not here, you are gone.

I don't get why you'd carve me like this
Ripping out my heart
Grasping it in you iron grip
Clasping the blood in a bursting vessel
Through a laced ribbon
Controlling my breathing as you will
Heaving dry tears
A nail pierces my eardrum
Deaf to my newfound reality
Stuffed with what's acceptable for me to obtain
My casing is alien
Feeling only the nauseating saliva;
clammy sweat rubbing between my fingers
Succumbing to the meaningless reality we hail

25 | 31 Poems for August 2017

Take me back to the day when the girl I was crushing on crushed my feelings.
I lost my smile and my confidence, everything changed and I never looked at things the same.
Sometimes I ask myself if I’m really chasing dreams or just chasing heartbreak.
Prescriptions changed but no amount of morphine could ever ease the pain.
Even though it may seem insane, I will always take pride in the scars I gain.
Take me back to the day when the girl I was crushing on crushed my feelings.
The worst thing about it all is that the guy I was compared to wasn’t even half my standard.
There were certain things that we both didn’t mean to say, but words were uttered anyway.
My hyperhidrosis is evident but in all honesty, I try not to sweat the small stuff.
Take me back to the day when the girl I was crushing on crushed my feelings.
Sometimes I ask myself if I’m really chasing dreams or just chasing heartbreak.
There is so much pain and disappointment that my fragile heart can take.
This whole thing hurts but I try my best not to let all my emotions show.

19 | 31 Poems for August 2016

These ideas of nightmares I usually have when the night stares.
I know that I unintentionally pushed you away several times that day.
But listen to me, regardless of what happened I still need you to stay.
I’m trying to make more memories but my Kodak has run out of film.
Maybe I should buy a Canon and digitally capture these moments for forever.
“You’ve got hyperhidrosis but don’t sweat the small stuff” is something I imagine you to say.
The future is uncertain and things inevitably change but I’d love for you to stay.
I could try to act all tough and conceal my fears but I’m as scared as you are.
Back when this connection was ignited, we never thought that we would end up this far.

Don't shake this hand
Caked in moisture
I'm sorry
I didn't want this either

primary idiopathic palmar/
palmoplantar hyperhidrosis
despite taking  Glycopyrrolate
2 MG Tablet three times daily.

Aforementioned physiological malady
the bane worse than death
unwanted and unwonted figurative
(metaphorical) beast of burden
linkedin with matrix constituting mine
corporeal essence genetically
gifted to yours truly,
invariably, objectionably, and unquestionably
afflicts, impacts, and upsets
emotional (mental) health
diagnosed with schizoid personality disorder
and aggravated, jump/kickstarted, triggered...,
when body electric
of mine experiences duress.

Tis no fun unable
to join in any reindeer games
(actually quite aggravating)
to experience chronic instances,
whereby profuse sweat drips
(think rivaling Angel Falls),
the loftiest falls on land
inducing extreme self
consciousness and embarrassment.

Socialization compromised,
jeopardized, and sabotaged
against natural proclivity to fraternize,
thus avoidance behavior
(i.e. social distancing) rigorously practiced
way before coronavirus (COVID-19)

mandated staying at least 6 feet
(about 2 arm's length) from other people.
I vaguely recollect even while in utero
sweaty hands cooled courtesy amniotic fluid
yet subsequently observing consternation
obstetrician displayed as

itty bitty teensy weensy fingers
dripped - think faucet turned on full force.
Mein kampf (predominantly
describes solitary existence)
severely exacerbated (still prominent)

ability to function undermined
courtesy deux part and parcel
significant aforestated physiological
and social congenital afflictions
somewhat ameliorated by
about half dozen prescription medications.

I keep hermetically sealed
within our single bedroom apartment
(we lucked out with unit B44
providing us scenic view)
climate controlled when weather
hazy, hot and humid
at sixty degrees Fahrenheit
(you do the math to figure
the Centigrade temperature),
nevertheless these stubby
five fingered appendages
ooze perspiration on par
with spigots gushing sweat.

Worse fate than death finds me
suffering one or more
dogged following plagues:
water turning to blood, frogs, lice,
flies, livestock pestilence, boils, hail,
locusts, darkness and killing
of firstborn children far less oppressive
versus being stricken with Hyperhidrosis.

Sain above identified unpleasant fallout
understandably, quintessentially, and inextricably
linkedin within every fiber
moost likely activated since conception - mine
body electric infiltrated nerve wracking
complex corporeal edifice
interestingly enough solely overbearing
while yours truly wide awake
bright tailed and bushy eyed,
yet sleep ofttimes brings

severely dislocating, disquieting
and discombobulating
subconscious nocturnal experiences,
which frightful, maniacal, and
phantasmagorical vivid dreams
undermines, oppresses, and impinges,
any joie de vivre
creating abominable hell on Earth
thus this dirt poor commoner
pronouncing his intent

to beg, borrow and/or steal
(sell my soul to the devil)
in a desperate effort to secure
and pay King's ransom
to rid myself once and for all
of parasite entrenched nemesis
bleeding dry, leeching, and yoking
writer christened Matthew Scott Harris,
whereby he doth regularly writhe in agony.