Friday, 14 April 2017

deja vu

We struck matches and lit fires in each others bellies and mistook it for love,
not knowing it was eating us alive, consuming us,
forgetting that fire needs fuel and oxygen. And it took both from us and then we fell apart like used matchsticks

The last time I wrote about you, I swore it would be the last time.

six years down the road, a drug overdose and a wild night intoxicated with insomnia has you on my mind and how I can't unlove your poison out of me

I hear you're into marijuana now
smoke filling your brains
instead of a college education
alcohol has tasted the blood in your veins
The last time you called was never.

I heard your survive on a diet of cigarettes and apathy
that you've  lost a lot of weight now though you
haven't gained any self esteem
And the men are still hopelessly in love with the illusion of you
But you, you have fallen out of love with

the last time I wrote about you, I thought  the inertia I've chained myself in would break
The last time I wrote about you I thought I was writing you out of my life,
I'm filling the void you left with God,
I'm filling the void you left with unwatched seasons of TV shows,
I'm filling the void you left with all the lives I haven't lived and all the places I've never been,
I'm tasting honey when it reminds me of your hair before I remind myself to forget that the last time you called was a thousand days ago but I haven't forgotten the sound of your voice or wondered when you'd need me next ,
what unlikely crises I daydream may infiltrate your days enough to make me worthy of a text back,
but I'm back to filling the void you left with other people whose names taste different in my  mouth but I'm teaching my tongue to curve around them and forget the familiarity of yours,
the last time you called, I realised your memory is a curse on me I am trying to get the heavens to revoke,
the last time you called I realised I cannot fill the void you left with other people and places because when I'm awake I've mastered the art of forgetting your face but it digs its way out of the grave in my heart when I'm asleep and sneaks into my dreams,
I wake up and the only word in my mouth is your name.

Monday, 3 April 2017

the hole in the ozone layer is male privelege

The sky is submitting itself
to the darknes
the resistance of the earth
melting away
Her breasts are swollen
with unspoken agony 
His mouth drags across hers
Filling her with the
emptiness of unbridled passion
bite marks
Littered across her body like dead flowers in a forgotten graveyard
An unbroken promise spread over the canvas of her stomach
His lonely is spilling
Out of his mouth
Into hers
Limbs sprawled against the grass
The night is wild and the darkness is crawling into her
Spreading her thighs Iike an unbroken promise
ripping her apart as easily as her first
His lust is spilling over
Corroding the air
His insanity entering her
One breathless stroke at a time
the easy sliding of the sharpest knife
in and out

What does unrequited love feel like? It's like drowning , but you never die."

Your lungs
Are filled
With expectations
Loud enough
for your mouth to taste
They are not bitter (yet)
The water is calm
You think this will
You will learn
Not to feel this dangerously safe

Your mouth is choking
On disappointment
Brackish green
Salt and sweat
You're learning to let go
In violent spasms
Nothing graceful
Your windpipe is clenched
Around your broken heart
Stale lies tearing out of your stomach
Here is the stench of the curses you have eaten
the water is wild
It rips away the last
Of your sanity

You'd think
After all this time
You'd have remembered
that you could not swim

The irony is that
You've never felt
more alive

The water is calm again
Your limbs have stopped
Holding on to the world

You are  caught in between
Your madness and your misery
Seven thousand meters deep
You're still asking,
Do you understand ?
Do you understand?
Does anyone ?

- the stages of drowning