Heritage Day

Today is my last day


I manage to crawl off the bed that ceased to be coupled almost a decade ago

then land in my still relatively tiny bathroom, though my own physique seems to be shrinking by the second now

I look up at my reflection and I realise the purpose of mirrors

There is a headline,

my face

wrinkled and grey beneath its letters seems to unfold like an over ripe flower without ever having been touched

it says;

Heritage Day

I shuffle along until I trip over the now almost dry white board marker and I begin the list:

One: I inherited the dark lines of deceit off my mother’s core

Two: I learned how to live with being a liar

Three: I came as a foreign being full of love

Four: I was denied love but I’m still leaving filled with only those four letters

Five: Life was beautiful though the darkness is always the beginning of a new story

Six: I inherited the art

Seven: I will never forget


I rinse myself off and decide that it would be better to leave full of hope

After all

3 months before they expected me I was ready

13 years before I was

they weren’t

my family


The wardrobe whispered the call of majesty

I obeyed my longing eyes

past the dioors and my goodbye suit

I found the two letter phrase barely in disguise and I remembered why

Heritage day:

One: I learned how to judge myself better than anyone had ever judged me

Two: It wasn’t always sunny

Three: How to fake the smile through heartache

Four: How to cause the same

Five: My clothes are cheap

Six: I am unworthychocolat_l

Seven: I knew this each time we made eye contact… after all; we are self proclaimed judges


So neat, tidy and fresh I walk towards the lonely seat and the non functional tv

and on the top right hand corner of the screen

A phrase in white paint screams out at me

Heritage Day:

One: My skin colour murdered my first love

Two: I inherited the skill of not caring much for those attributes

Three: My father Died of a broken heart

Four: You saved mine

Five: Our life was puzzled together by vibes and muted sentences

Six: In the end, my quirks were irrelevant and your were my indica

Seven: I fell eternally asleep with the very thoughts that days and nights before had always haunted me.


Palm on palm now

My eye lids find their space

No tears left in me

My heritage day is eternal

and I only grew to know that the moment I looked into you!






Poison Pen Letters To Myself (and John) Review

All credit goes to Romany Rivers whose undeniable talent inspired this piece. Thank you kindly.

Dear John

Before Bedtime I stumbled upon a magical piece of Unconscious Creativity.
Each Question felt like The Pulling of My Faith…
Uncertain I kept Passing Through ancient lands;

their Once Upon A Time… threw me into Scrying for a little piece of what potential may have still been possible for me…

On Reflection
The Moral Masquerade coats my layers of Hate, of Fat Happy Pre-packaged Dreams,  and with these Musings of Undine spirits and matters of Red Letters… I will Return To Sender or Keep Searching for
The Freak
That only Home
My Addressee Unknown

Smiling Again
I keep swiping through each page of the only bits of Hope for Our Millenium in the form of skilfully composed sentences… and I Pray for Dedication Beyond Tomorrow from every Universal Self in order to eliminate possibilities of such Remote Suicide With This Light that touches even the Deep scars of Primal Torture that should by now be dead, but instaed lay dormant inside the Lake of Unshed.

I left some Brandy for Brian out on the counter last night…
John; I wish that you have stopped being Bitter.
If you could see this Vale of Tears
This Desert Tongue that faithfully fails me Without A Trace of Stitches…
Then I would look at you through Blind Eyes
These words would include you in a cosmic Tribe
And each night before you Sleep
Green Upon Black Destiny
Will bless you with no Infernal layers of despair; only contented comfortable butterflies being born in the pit of your stomach…

Yet your eyes refuse to read or see
Never Mind

Prove Your Point (carry on)