Reaper.

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I must tell you a secret.

I have been dining with death,

an old friend he is. Resourceful one.

I like the way he gives me ideas..

so much peace in having options…

 

you must tell no one.

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The gag.

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funny,

My ex lover said I was selfish still, he only put himself first, second and fourth too. I could come in third but 3 is a crowd he told me once. My lover told me he had never felt the depth of attraction he felt for me. when we met, he said he was drawn to broken people. I spoke of this tale to my friends but they asked that I be more open minded, they suffocate me with their analogies but they are My small circle, a closed group.

My therapist told me he had no one to talk to about his troubles. I was in search of clarity and windows to openness so I listened. He said his daughter died from a tumour in her brain. she was a neurosurgeon. I found this hilarious so I laughed, this is how I was diagnosed with misplaced emotions.

I talk too much, I share very little.The sessions did me no good so I went to my priest. He taught me of God, his unconditional love and how he hates me for all my iniquities.  My troubles came as consequences of my sins he said. My soul was dead and satans minions had chained me to hells graves. Fortunately, there was hope for me he said. If  I walked the walls of  repentance, Graced his sheets quietly enough and stood in my truth. I had never met a more gracious fibster.

I decided, I would get rid of my troubles alone so I searched google for all the ways to set my old soul on fire. I got 27,310 matches. I realized then I wasn’t gassed enough to start a fire. I have left that fit for the arsenics.

well,

none of this has brought me clarity or pulled the lid my mind has been said to have however, I’m off to have a chit-chat with my closed friends.

I know, this wasn’t funny.

 

Facile à vivre

 

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They say I am easy going,

easy to go…in..

easy to go,

like easy to leave.

I always wondered why they never stayed.

#how easy

 

 

Shifty.

 

giphy (5)

Make of this what you will.

I am grown and tired.

The chase, the guess ,inane games.

I will reiterate, please listen.

I’m too grown for this , lost my auction at assumptions gates, the will to stand shifty tides, sort through mixed signals and read between ill, faintly crafted lines. The world is moving and I must scurry along with it.

I have no room for guesses or tic tac toes on where you stand.

are you here or there?’,

this is no lovers brawl, no tug of war either. I have given enough self, I must preserve what is left for me. Regrettably, I have left too much space for your frivolities, and wished for too long that you abandon juvenile manners. Time has taught me to careless for drifty ways.

I will not read minds, poetry awaits.

I will not chase, I have given up feline ways.

I will not plead for intentionality or open honesty.

I will not bleed for trust, still, I’ll stay worthy of it.

I will not push for transparency or leap out of comfort zones to comprehend the unsteadiness of your tides.

I will not intently open my souls doors for you, still I shall not close them. I refuse to present you with the chance to betray my efforts. Again.

I will not wait to catch hints and pick up crumbs of real intent. I simply do not have the time. Frankly, I care not for wavering allies.

Come if you will, stay if wish, go if you please.

whatever you please, be intentional.

vilag ii.

I have told a lie,

a tale so white it blurred truth.

bring me darkness, I crave it.

leave me be,

let it wrap me in familiar bands,

I have made allies with its silence, learnt to work its curves.

let me walk the streets of murk, just for a moment,

I need to see clearer.

how can dawn come if dusk hovers not?

leave me in gloomy pools,

I have swarm long enough to learn to float.

 

 

vilag.

I’m attracted to light.

in skin,cities and teas too.

I have swam in too much darkness to let my self drown there.

Sinners thoughts.

thoughts

I wonder,

does he grow weary of dirty hosannas and wilful sins?

does he choke on smoke from burnt offerings?

does he forgive himself for all the forgiveness he gives?

does he grow tired from looking down?

 

I wonder,

maybe he wishes for friends not worshippers?

with knowledge so vast, does he walk on crazy streets?

does he grow bored of his magic?

does his miracles excite his soul?

 

 

It must be lonely to be God.

Balcony.

Sitting frog legged,

mind pregnant, sweet nothings. 

look, how the sky changes hue.

feel the wind loose its warmth.

my skin quivers from colds kisses.

A plane lands, too many leave.

 

how familiar,

the changes, the cold, the take offs…

how you…

 

 

 

 

Storm.

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I have learnt sometimes,

silence is the easiest way to build your chaos,

smile, make a weak attempt at a dead joke.

if you try hard enough, your troubles might translate into laughter.

forget it, let it go, make an excuse, then another.

Tell yourself all you need to drop ice in your volcano.

Do not erupt, make peace with your pieces, chew your words.

Float like paper in the wind when they push you,

gather your storm.

 

now, rain!

bring brimstones and ice,

birth magma and burn bridges,

spew your undigested words, quit choking yourself.

serve them their cowardice on a platter.

 

finally, ask for the masters forgiveness,

lick your wounds and remember,

they do not think like you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

meh….

Everything but nothing.

Grey is the blandest colour. It doesn’t scream but isn’t drowsy either. it swings on a fence just enough to not be completely ignored. how meh, It is the blandest feeling too. Nothing  is wrong but nothings right either.

Some days, dawn comes with its party, other days it drags melancholy with it. You feel peace but you don’t quite taste happiness still, far from sadness.

My tongue doesn’t know me sometimes, other times it amazes me. how can one have everything but nothing? be so much but so little? how does one be sunlight and still carry this much gloom. Its not sadness, just gloom.

Many, many friends but still no one. Be so loved but easily discarded. usefully useless, accommodated but not accepted. alone but surrounded.

 

what is it when you feel everything but nothing?

not enough sadness to be pitied not enough happy to be noticed

oh so tastefully bland. grey.