Hair.

You don’t understand these strands,
The coiling, the resistance. The pain.
The combing , the stubbornness. The aim.
To shoot high, to hang low.
The lessons ,the braids and breakage.
The shrinkage and the disappointments.
The strength, frustrating strength.
Inspiring strength, resilience.
All black tangled wool , paths to corn fields
Forget cotton fields because I know damn well that you can’t relate to these strands.
These curls, this magic. My hair.
Wild and unruly
You can’t teach me about rules, I raise rebellious strands.
Creative strands, lazy strands.
Untamable strands.
All growing under my guidance.
From the soils of my head.
And you can’t touch it with dirty hands.
I’m growing a crown here!

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Yes Them!

Don’t carry them in your spirit for too long.

Bones get weary,

The heart gets tired.

Don’t keep them in your space.

The walls get bored,

Silence finds it’s voice.

Don’t store them in your speech.

Words birth reality

And deaf ears choose when to listen.

Don’t house them in your thoughts

I repeat, never give delusion a shelter.

Dont give them power!

Dethrone them.

Wash them off your gaze,

Look up at the newest days

Be courageous and brave.

Don’t be scared to take the step

To leave them behind.

To face your healing.

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Tangled

Against my better judgement I was lured,
I had the willpower to stop history from repeating itself but lust had grown so fond of me it held on to me tighter than a tick on a dying cow.
I had always been the curious type, bitten once twice entinced.
What tragedy could befall me now?
I knew pain like I knew the malfunctioning scarred parts of my wings,
Still I longed for another adventure,
To fly off,
To find myself caught up in yet another entanglement I had to get myself out of.

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I’m In Love

Look up at the sky!

The sun bows down and worships the fire our eyes create.

All existing magic is in sync as the stars stare at our light,

Our love,

For the moon,

For the music,

For our hearts that have embraced a love known not by man.

Look at us!

We look like magic!

You are the monarch of my temple.

I crumble and melt at the mercy of your stinging eyes

Reflecting back at the tears glistening in mine after a long day.

I can’t believe you are my “Bae”,

Something has taken over my brain,

Something I can’t put my finger on.

Something about you makes me wanna ditch the girls,

It surpasses a Marijuana induced high

Or maybe I am high,

But these munches make me wanna drink from your cup.

Take a dip in your pool

Taste all your flavors.

Sip.

Drink.

Binge.

Gulp.

All the goodness I like.

Oh my goodness I’m in love!

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Here today….

I have always been a traveller
Even when I never left home, i always kept all my things in suitcases…
I was ever ready to take a trip and find the secret place the sun rests it’s head,
Go to magical places
Beautiful places
Sad places with muted cicada sounds.
I never fell for the hypnotic feels , of tender arms and imperative words.

I have always been a traveller,
I couldn’t stay,
I clung tightly on the wind’s back,
Became dust frequently,
Shed tears,
Lost without a trace, with every thought feeling like a trance.

But I have always been determined bypasser.
Couldn’t stop where I felt lost,
I left to find all pieces of me, scattered under all the train rails, bus seats or the noble eyes of a stranger.

I travel, but I return. In case I left a piece of my heart.

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Tastebuds

I tasted him,
His whole existence bare in his tongue.
Sweet, tender memories scattered on his lips
The pain in his slow breathing,
The love in his embrace.
I tasted him,
He had sweet flavours of masculinity,
And a soft aftertaste of a violent storm,
Parading on the eager corners of my mouth
Answering every question,
Reassuring me that as our saliva dances on the soils of our tongues,
His heart beats to know mine,
And this kiss won’t be the last one….

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