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Hakiim Dec 2016
...
You're just like my smiles,
abandoning me when I need them the most.
Hakiim Dec 2016
I can't see you through glass mirrors.
but I can't hear you in empty corridors.
Hakiim Dec 2016
the last time I was warm I was abandoned,
now I exist within a bone-chilling endless corridor,
I've existed here for as long as I can remember.
my knowledge of love has been replaced by anxiety throughout these long lonely years,
I've walked down this corridor for eons and I've finally met someone,
their body gives off heat that they cannot feel in return.
surprisingly I try to warm the icicles upon their beautiful soul but I don't know how,
i pour my heart out to a solid wall,
now I'm empty and dry,
my mind tells me to continue down this endless corridor,
my mind says they have no hope,
but my heart says stay,
my heart tells me to be patient and to surrender my warmth,
my heart says to absorb their cold and share my warmth.
My heart stands still yet excited,
like a tropical desert.
What is happening
this is a challenge I'm currently going through. I'm falling for someone fast (which isn't normal), but they don't feel the same yet. I am used to being in control and I need to learn how to surrender and let it happen on its own.
Hakiim Dec 2016
i am a willow leaf,bound to the branches of a poisonous maple tree.
I am different from my neighbors.
I try to tell them about me,
but every time I reveal my tongue they spit toxins onto my flesh.
They are all I've ever known,
but they're the source of my pain.
They are the source of my hate.
Everything I value most,
they seek to destroy.
What must I do?
a poem abouty relationship with my family
Hakiim Dec 2016
it's hard,
my story is of love and of strength,
in which one i do not possess,
walls of water leak into my room as i wait to drown,
but my soul says be free,
it so badly wants to be,
but it be,
trapped.
In a web of lies,
a maze of confusion,
but a window of certainty.
Knowing what it wants,
but not knowing what it creates,
knowing that it is me,
but knowing it isn't what they want it to be.
My soul is at war with it's truth,
but in battle with it's reality.
What do I do?
I don't know how to explain this current struggle with involving my sexuality in my work
Hakiim Nov 2016
i am lost,
in an abyss of never ending confusion,
coiled in thorns of hollow,
rooted in fertile soil

the days before twelve haunt me still,
expecting those to die on the eve of my hallow soul,
it is reborn nine days afterward,
i am afraid,
i am drained

i have lost all hope for the things i hoped
my body has been at war with itself,
physically and mentally

i sit long days staring at walls
thinking of failed dreams and aspirations
as i struggle to live the life i lived before my nightmare began

i am here,
writing,
not fully healed but forcing these wounds closed,
taking my steps back into this sanctuary as if it is my first time,
as if it is my first step

i cannot let these wounds remain opened
i cannot allow my soul to be ****** from my very being,
i have to live,
i have to stand in me and you,
and live,
and love,
and learn,
and be,
strong
ever since the Trump election I have shut down and done nothing creatively, I have to force myself to get out of this bad mental place and get back to doing what I love.
Hakiim Oct 2016
A boy sits alone blinking away falling rapid tears,
lipstick in hand,
eyes glazed in eternal pain.
She sits in shelter,
tears in hand,
dripping like lilies falling through shimmering thighs.
She thinks of him as his lips,
red as crimson,
eyes shimmering like the glitter she uses to hide her pain.
Their love broken by acid tongues and toxic systems,
they remain fragile.
Fearing the letters that were long created by no one.
Face painted for lights to see,
his tears have ruined this canvas.
He hides the rain deep within,
in order to maintain the desert his flesh must remain.
Bathed in strong fumes,
clothes engulfed in flames,
she feels sorrow.
The only light is the multicolored flames slowly dying in their eyes.
She kisses his lips in silence.
Lips of cherry and mango dipped in crimson paint,
oh how sweet.
False labels tattooed upon his face,
while rebellious truth seeps from his wounds.
Her skin rains as his soul dies.
He slips from life all because...
dictation,
creation,
labels,
mentality
Hakiim Aug 2016
HEAR ME,
the caged bird,
Maya once spoke of my ancestor,
but I have a new song,
my song is but a simple request,
it is of modern day,
it is of another time,
a time of difference,
a time of new,
I but have one request,
to mine own mother,
let go of the door to the cage you have me trapped within,
I know my way through the prison,
you just placed your knowledge upon my being,
you have seen your war as my fight,
you haven't taught yourself the strategy,
you have missed training and believed so as to me,
your being is not ready as you have believed upon mine,
but my being is not your being,
which is what you fail to comprehend,
my wings are of steel,
this beak has been sharpened,
my talons are ready for war,
set me free
Hakiim Jun 2016
love is a golden being traveling through fields of war
Hakiim Jun 2016
I think I found someone,
I think I found someone who could be, i think I found someone to rest my heart,
i think I found myself,
my mirror,
my equal,
my soul,
please be my soul because my heart has been a hollow glass ball,
it has been black as a jet,
please be my soul,
please be the one,
please be mine,
please,
make me complete
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