Heritage Day

1

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!

 

 

 

 

Bitter Mistress

1

Here in the madness of everyday foolishness I give into my monsters. I allow them to coax my spirit with their anger. I swallow regret with a teaspoon of pride and suddenly the world makes more sense. There are no more sonnets or love poems to be expected from this being… unless the other appears miraculously and deletes the folders of mistrust which are frozen as a constant back screen on the system that is her mind; like an indestructible virus slowly eating away at the system as a whole. She finds comfort in the cradles of old songs, the kind that inspired the flowing red from her veins, but that’s unimportant… nothing really matters now. The other girl has managed to return, colder and meaner and more prohibiting than ever and I rejoice that I am not alone in my own brain anymore so that she may remind me that no-one is worthy of her honesty or truth… our honesty… our truth. If fate existed, right now; I’m riding her from the back doggie style.

Now feel the tingle of the sneer down your spine reminding you to stop being a hypocrite. We all wish to be brave enough to be the gods of our own universes, I’m just cocky enough to say it loud and proud and not giving a fuck about what that’s going to sound like or alternatively what anyone else’s thoughts are on the topic. This is my life, my struggle and all along I’ve gone through it all alone. I therefore have no obligation to be thoughtful of you because you don’t matter to me. This is the safe house of a soul, heart and spirit that are so worn out that they are beyond recognition. I know not whether these really are mine anymore-I’m even more uncertain of who I once thought I was and who I am now or what I am aiming for in life, but I suppose since I write my own destiny on a tattered little book I bought yesterday from ‘Spar’ for R4.50 … I make the rules and sometimes chaos really does rule over any other rule. I invited Delirium in; she has happily brought Death with her. To kill what once was the girl in a long-since shattered mirror now forming just a broken frame around a yellowing white wall and return to me in a dead, ghostly life the girl who once scared every feeling off before it could hurt.

Welcome home sweet bitter mistress.

Tonight I let you take over me entirely and what does it matter if the act of making love remains metaphorical to me for the rest of this existence? I will still create more art than those constantly active because I will be hungry for passion always when the bitter other me isn’t looking. In those precious moments I will redirect my gaze from wishing to create and having you experience what I want you to. I will be the rapist of your mind… bestowing on you the truth no matter how many times you deny it. I will repeat and scream it at you until you have finally believed that the “I” is the most important entity in your world.

Who can say that one reality is more important than another? It is the “I” of your world that only experiences what it does and it is that same entity who will deliver the information gathered to the greater whole when dead.  

Who cares why she lied and said the things she didn’t mean… the bottom line is lies and dishonesty, why cling on to those? Surely I deserve better than to be lied to? Surely I deserve to be cared for, to be fussed over, and to be a sun for another dark soul?  One wants not to question every ‘I miss you’ although that is why my bitter mistress has returned. Her function is to instill more doubt until I can no longer get hurt. My mind, soul and heart need to think always together, not allowing the heart to just feel as it pleases. Past experience has shown us that it is that initiative of the heart is what ends up breaking it in the first place. How much more anguish do I wanna allow into my life? How many humiliations and degradations? So Carpe-Diem little mistress and don’t you ever let me feel again!

Roads (Lull A Bye part 3)

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It was if her question had taken me back in time to the place at midnight where I’d often wondered about how I’d deal with having to lose her.  Many a time I realized

that I would not deal with it; instead I’d continue on to a path of solitude.

It was the thought of losing her that made me want to snatch whatever bit of love I could before her summer ended with the arrival of her autumn. She had loved me as I had loved her through the years, but she hid as well as I hid therefore only half gratifying the soul and starving the flesh until that  moment when she repeated her question with an honest yearning and seriousness.

“Have you no care to kiss me?”

“I have no care to kiss you… For that kiss will make you mine for a moment after which I am to lose you for eternity.”

“I will not inflict that kind of pain on either of us. This burning will die in time; yours maybe sooner than mine – unless yearning stays with one even in the world beyond our own; in which case dear ghost I welcome your haunting me as I would a wedding day.”

The worlds seemed different as we paced back to where we came from and I could no longer focus on the beautiful sights provided by the genius loci. I saw only the emptiness of the days to follow. Upon entering the graveyard the sun had already set and the moon was shinning brighter than I’d ever seen her shine to my despair… as if mocking my silent grief with a smirk.

“I wish you’d teach the world to love!”

She used to say that the three worlds exist within each other, but that this world is the sweetest because it hurts to be alive. She used to say that pain is the core of love and without it we would not know how to feel, how to smile or be merry. She said that pain is what makes you want to dance in a world of hurtful circumstance. So I sang her a song of sleeping sensations and hopes for a heavy delight, in which our hands lead us back to each other and slowly we moved through the night. Her last breath was quick as for the rest I cannot quite recall… whether days or months had passed before I could think at all.

The moment, upon which my brain had returned I stepped bravely out into the night, I headed straight for the graveyard and danced until my heart was darkened by the coming of the light. My soul had chosen those many days ago when my heart was still beating in her chest and I understood for the first time the meaning of a dying girl’s request.

With the morning my journey began and I had left boldly without a crumb, without a scent of familiarity or comfort… I headed towards the big town.

Some expectations are met, others are not. We fall in and out of love so many times and it made me wonder; how am I teaching the world to love if I have not an ounce of love for myself? I don’t know much more than I knew back then, but I know one thing; loving someone half heartedly is worse than not loving at all.

The road I have chosen is filled with a love which is mine… but it will be a lonely walk. However I will always remember the little girls playing in the stillness of the night without a care in the world. I will remember the gates of that distant graveyard and I will know.

Soul mates never die.