be gentle with yourself;

your scars tell a story;
of survival;
of bravery;
of a new frontier;

your wounds will heal;
it may take some time;
but those scars are important roadmaps
to your body;

be gentle with yourself

The dark is gone.
Please come O' morn, we prayed.
Sounds of gongs and machetes,
Sung unpleasant echoes through the walls, we roared in wait.
Hope they shiver and stay away,
In the heart of the night.
Ruthless we might be, as we became our own gods.
Guarding our feeble and tender lords,
Who layed peaceful on their cradles,
While we watched and matched round fire muttering riddles under freezing drizzle.
Tired and dizzy, we were
But rather we fall than let "a million" come near,
Our huts and loves.

Our jar of flour and a jug of oil, we guard with our blood.
For who knows? Perhaps, they be the last we bake of before our death,

If this plague persists.

Courage
Conceding I'm like the scared -
- Scared child
In the dark
Calling out for its mother
Accepting she isn't there
The soul I was given
Was made to bear
I offer up a prayer
For mercy mild
For a spark
And then another
And knowing
I can bear the world

She walks
Yes she has walked in a sea
Fecklessly running and strumming
Heart beating not seeing but grasping onto homeless dreams.
Note to self…
That next time you see Leviathan
Tell him there’s One much greater
And any time you hear the silent ring
Whistle while you work.

She prays for peace and she prays for mercy
Redemption only a sinking heart can long for
See she wondered in the wilderness
Singing breathless songs and looking into holes
A wild woman yet unnamed
A wild woman yet untamed

But she prayed for peace she prayed for mercy
So next time she sees Leviathan
She’ll tell him there’s one much greater
For when tears were her prayer
A king came to save her
On clouds of wonder
And righteous splendour
So she walks on...

he remembers the day when
he got called up.
"he's 20,"
his mother said.
"he's my little baby."

even the thought of
leaving
his family was
absolutely horrendous.

when he arrived
however,
he saw you.
god, how could someone look
so ****** good
so effortlessly
so innocently
yet not so innocently
as the clothes you were wearing
basically supported the term of
violence.

he's a mummy's boy,
he'll cry himself
to sleep every night,
feeling unsafe.
he felt so safe,
dear lord.
even i feel so safe.

today,
you
offered him
canned beans.
(you also referred to him as 'mate', which is not exactly what he wanted you to call him, but it's fine as long as you're happy)
he finds beans
quite gross
icky
tasteless
yuck
yet he ate until
the can was empty
he guessed it was to please you (?)
and he wouldn't forgive himself
if he ever rejected you.
anyone who
tried to deny you
must be out of their mind.

anyway.
might be talking *******,
but he really hopes you'd offer him
some canned beans again.

I wash my hands
as the Rome burns to the ground
I smoke a cigarette at the balcony
as the city goes in lockdown

my city
my city
It's a ghost-town.
my people
my people
I am lost without.