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 Oct 2013 ve
maisie khan
untitled
 Oct 2013 ve
maisie khan
I wish I told you how I felt. I guess it's hard to articulate how you feel to someone when you're sat half naked on the edge of their bed in a room that once looked so recognisable, with a boy who suddenly seems like a stranger to you. His eyes aren't the ocean anymore, more like glaciers that freeze up your heart. His body seems like an anomaly amongst others, or maybe yours was. Your eyes can't melt all the ice inside him and you're too scared to look at him anyway. You slowly turn your defeated body towards his, and with your eyes staring at the bed you manage to choke 'I can't do this.' You ask him to take you home and he hugs you and touching him is the worst thing in the world because now you can't kiss him; you can't press your lips to his neck and make him laugh and you can't run your fingers through his hair because he doesn't love your little hands anymore. He never did.
His ****** old car is the one place you felt safe but on the drive home you can't breathe properly and it's hard to do anything except smoke cigarette after cigarette. Your eyes are glaring at the road and he keeps trying to say things but his voice doesn't sound right anymore and you turn the music up. You tell him you have nothing to say, when in reality you have everything to say. That night, you have never been so quiet in your life. You didn't even realise you were quiet because your mind was screaming so loud you thought everybody could hear. And oh, how you wish he could hear; those familiar little thoughts that he so wonderfully banished from you mind only to bring them back even stronger than before. Your mind turns black. You could feel everything and nothing.
He pulled up to your house and you finally found the strength to look at him one last time. He tries talking but you're still not listening because the minute your eyes rest on him you notice. You notice all the parts of his face you forgot to kiss, you notice he's had a haircut, you notice he looks so much like the ******* angel you thought he was. You realise you'll never get to feel that body against yours again, that you'll never be able to touch him with a purpose, that you'll never be able to wrap yourself around him on bad days and just let him hold you. But then you remember there's someone else kissing him now, and that haircut wasn't fo you. You realise he's had another girl's body against his and he's touching her without purpose, without emotion... he's touching her the same way he touched you. You realise he was the one holding you together and you get out of the car and you walk in to your empty house and you fall apart all over your kitchen floor. You have your knees pulled up to your chin like always, as if you're trying to hold yourself together on your own. You don't know how to be on your own and you're crying and screaming because you didn't say what you wanted to say and he's gone. He was your best friend and he used you and your body and he broke your ******* heart and you were too busy trying to keep it together to voice this. And now you can't keep it together. Three whole days have passed and you're still too disgusted with yourself to look in the mirror. You can't find a place that feels like home anymore. You left your pathetic little heart in his room or his car or his hands and you've felt like a ghost ever since. It's hard to see or listen or breathe because he was home and he's gone. And you can't even find the will to hate him. You only hate yourself.
It doesn't matter
who you are
I hope that you
will never
have to know
the crippling pain
of someone you love
looking at you
like you
are a stranger
 Oct 2013 ve
shika
Untitled
 Oct 2013 ve
shika
These things we do, we who feel too much.
We who the world tries to crush every day.
We who have to fight for every breath.

I have no problem with a joint
A glass of wine or port. Even a forty in its brown paper jacket.

I have known many who partied.
And many who partook in secret or just alone. I have known. Many who spread their skin with blades,
A vent for excruciating pain.

And often times I sit alone, watching.

I've been called naive because I don't see the world as a thing that necessarily has to e ****** up. I choose to hope for the best rather then give in to the critics. And I wish to eliminate the victims.

Victims are those who have stuff done to them. Terrible stuff. All over the spectrum. I don't want us to be victims.

Everything has its place. Even as a warning sign. I believe cannabis was created for a reason. But my friends, that reason is not for you to exist in a sad state of numbness that allows you to keep yourself from taking action. It's not to numb the side effects of a broken heart a broken spirit a fractured soul.

I have gotten softly drunk in Italy , sipping on white whine and nasty ***** and cokes  and called our host a non specific Italian name.   Whiskey can be used to numb injuries. To prepare soldiers for amputation in primitive times. But my friends, alcohol is not there to make you bold or keep you unaware.

To the sorrowful souls who have so much pain they have to slice themselves , starve themselves , harm their selves to survive, I ask you to be strong. You are not a slave to the blade. You are strong enough to change your life  

To my dreamers, we must stop numbing ourselves as to not have to deal with reality. I believe so many of us do that the that real
Change of ourselves and others and the world is pushed even farther away. And we are what humanity needs. The need people who feel and hurt and need and love and create.
They need Someone to help
Someone to offer a  better choice.

This is rough and not well written

But the dreamers have been on my heart tonight.
 Oct 2013 ve
Annilda Esterhuysen
Sitting here going out of my mind
where are you now, what are you doing
who are you thinking of, who are you missing?

Do you think of me when you kiss her?
Has she occupied my place in your heart yet,
Is she the one now sharing your bed?

I'm going crazy, my mind an endless maze,
my thoughts never ending, my heart never mending.
These ticking, blurring seconds turned to days,
my soul constantly pacing,  my heart never stops racing.

I miss you!
I need you!

I'm going crazy, my mind an endless maze,
my thoughts never ending, my heart never mending.
These ticking, blurring seconds turned to days,
my soul constantly pacing,  my heart never stops racing.

My mouth wants to taste yours, my arms want to hold you,
my eyes miss meeting yours, my heart needs your love too!

Sitting here going out of my mind . . .
© Annilda Esterhuysen. All rights reserved.
 Oct 2013 ve
Annilda Esterhuysen
Always turn your face to the sun
as the clouds roll in like thunder.
Feel its rays on your skin,
rising courage from within,
That no man can put asunder.

Always turn your face to the sun
as it simmers over the horizon,    
Feel its rays on your skin,
broiling hope from within,
standing tall in the arms of Orion.
© Annilda Esterhuysen. All rights reserved.
 Oct 2013 ve
Annilda Esterhuysen
I don't want to close my eyes my love
for when I do I see your soul
illuminated by the sun
transparent, open and loving.
My last memory of you before
you walked out of my life,
before you put up your walls again,
before you shut the door.

I don't want to close my eyes my love
for when I do I see your love
and I feel every emotion I felt
on that perfect day.
Every way you made me feel free
before you forced my heart
to be locked away in this cage.

I don't want to close my eyes my love
for when I do I see you in front of me
so vivid, so real that I reach out
to hold you in my arms again,
to tell you I love you,
but then you disappear
the way you've disappeared from my
life so suddenly.

Closing my eyes used to lift me up into dreams of our future.
Now it crushes me on the cold floor of reality.
© Annilda Esterhuysen. All rights reserved.
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