Sola ellipsis

Depression latches on to every fibre of your being. It sips down to your bone marrow and it permeates through every skin pore. It has no rational thought, and does nothing but collapse into utter despair. Nothing said can even make a dent on the crushing weight of hopelessness. It is a powerful reminder of the truth behind loneliness. Why do I think this way? Why am I the only one feeling this way? Am I crazy? Why do I feel so much? Why aren't the things that make other people happy making me happy? You question your own sanity to the extent that you would much rather die than to continue to live in the dark abyss that exists inside your head. The irony being that the most humane way to get any semblance of relief/peace is by ridding yourself of the burden of life. And you always know and see the ripple effect of how your mind works/how you relate to the world, because you see the people around you slowly die inside everyday trying save you from yourself. Always feeling like a spe...

The way he moves screams - Purpose The way he silently sheds his tears -Speaks of remembrance Intoxicated, when his eyes dance -Living in Limbo, caught in a trance Such is the duality of men -Silk and sand -Light and darkness -Both here and everywhere Both mine and yours -In every way Oh, and its in the things he won't say -Reading between the lines like a riddle Always black or white -Never indecisive, never in the middle It is all in the childlike maturity -Of soothing words spoken in vulgarity

To want to see the best in people, is why most of us keep trying. Sometimes those same efforts are also the reason we wear heartache like a Scarlet A- stained indefinitely by naively hopeful premises. I only hope that my girl children have an easier time discerning between the real and the fake. Always remembering that to care is never a mistake. Also keeping in mind that charisma and confidence have the potential to sell you any number of dreams for as long as you are in t he market. Anyway, good and honest people will always exist though, just last night he tells me, " Ahhh shit, I think you're going to make want to be your best friend"...That remains the sweetest thing a heterosexual male has said to me yet. Not, "You're beautiful..." No. A simple, "I like you as a person". And THOSE are the true gifts of having an open heart  💜

Sweet delicate premise When the glint of his laughter catches itself in the corners of his eyes His conviction sets him alight -borrowing from childlike innocence The fumes embrace my body like the scent of incense Hands wide he peels me apart -but never too gently And with the same ease his fingers gather me -holding me against his earthy strength The foliage of trees withstanding years past He is frenzied dazzle and fire -I am messy glitter and desire When he is circled by the primatively possessive  fragrance of my love - Just the thought of him enchants me They say we are slaves to the toxic dance of our own heartbeats - But I remain intoxicated by his clutch How do we rotate in each other's gravity while uncertain of so much? So I return home to the only place I feel like I belong - The spaces we can't help but exist in always seem so wrong Faces in the crowd: the sparks that ignite time and time again - But we are addicted to this most righteousne...

The trauma of experiences that wound your spirit is the best inspiration  to write. When fuel and solace is found in suffering rather than pain, any inkling of being cured of the insistent aching  always seems like a dark abyss of giving way to healing or more hurt. Being open to either is the proverbial key to another sense of self outside of survival and leaves room for living. And THAT remains the loneliest reflection of self actualisation.

Sweet delicate premise Balled fists and closed eyed kisses Standing in your shadow is luminous Morphed adaptations subject to your touch Latching onto unstable footing Quivering under the weight of the bittersweet taste of your monastery You head the pulpit Where only ever your testamony must ring true So I bend and fold to fit biased accounts of realities I know too well Student and teacher Annointed caricatures of an Adonis complex You are the preacher Never choosing me as I choose you Bad romances A cult never devout of devotees So you give out a piece of us Played like a fiddle by your lust There you go dancing again to the sound of your own beat While I stand behind you watching my feet Masterful wielder of the mightiest sword Never sparring the rod Silently unseen lashes and cuts Failing and flailing Trying to latch you on to my bust The heady aroma of us It's the glint of captured starlight Both far away and so near So I keep reaching For th...

Eyes shut I lay awake as my mind wanders Half asleep only my body slumbers I touch, see and feel Black-outs Never knowing what's real But the pills give me my favourite me Who cares about lapses in memory No more drumming along I sing, dance and remain free Free from insecurity Free from the doubt So if they can package happiness Who am I to live without? No anger No pain I don't shudder at the sound of my own name Oh so utterly devine For a mind perverse such as mine Candyfloss soft Chocolate and cake Merry little lamb Never dwelling on mistakes Re-acquinted with my poetry Writing again so organically It's part of me Joy in the bottom of a bottle Joy at the burning out of a bud Joy running through veins Setting my thoughts on fire But it is only the packaged happiness that gets me higher