Venus in “Deadtrograde”

A plate of pain keeps
the potential heartbreaker away.
Two glasses of my old tears daily
will help me not go astray.
I am strong and I need no one’s attention,
but I want to be desired,
and I want affection,
but I was hurt,
I don’t want a repetition,
but I want love,
and I can feel the tension.

I don’t cry.
I don’t cry anymore because
there’s a pool of my tears
in my heart,
and I like to swim in it,
or go down, down, down,
and drown,
when a potential One
comes too close
to my feelings’ flat.
If anyone is to decide when I drown,
it has to be me, myself and I.
Would you give another potential
pretentious,
manipulative
dingbat
a chance to decide when you die?

Six planets are in retrograde
in my natal chart,
and venus used to be one of them,
but she’s not anymore.
My venus is dead;
a man has stabbed my sickly venus to death.

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The Passover

He looked like every other angel of birth,
but he was an angel of death,
He looked like every other angel of berth,
but he was an angel of dearth.
He would make you moan in pleasure
so he could make you groan in pain.
I had been warned by his ex-prey,
and I was prepared to drive him insane.
I sprinkled the blood of his victims
on my door,
and in my eyes,
and in my ears,
and on my lips,
and on his head.
“You can’t kill me like you did them.
You have tried in vain, lame.”
He passed right over me,
and he never called me again.

Out of Reach

The stars have remained special
because they live in the sky,
far away from our touch.
If they lived in the sand,
we would mistreat them 
and kick them around,
and they would mean nothing to us-
nothing more than mere stones.
We would get too used to them,
and we would not appreciate them.

I should have stayed out of your reach.

When Death Loves You

She married Death so she would not die.
She gave him her love,
everything she had,
everything she was,
and Death loved her very much,
so much so that he wanted
to please her completely;
he wanted to be with her
for the rest of his death.
So, he let her come first;
he put her on top of his list.

Love is a Butterfly

If you truly love a butterfly,
you ought to let her fly.
She’ll show you her buttery side if you do.
If you open your palm wide enough,
she’ll always perch in it if she wants you.
Don’t break her wings off
because your fears make you want to.
If you squeeze her in,
you would either weaken her
or make her cry,
or make her die,
and at any chance she gets to be free,
she’ll fly far away
and never come back again. 

She Suffers II: “Where are You?”

Tom-Thomson-Woodland-Waterfall-RTT02

“Woodland Waterfall” by Tom Thomson

The man isn’t clingy;
“clingy” is too belittling,
it’s degrading,
too degrading.

He is possessive;
he knows what he wants
and he’ll get and keep it at all costs.
Being possessive is cute.

The woman is possessive?
I think not.
She is clingy,
maybe too clingy.
You can’t own a man;
you have to let him live.
A man is not built to be
with just one woman.

You see, unfortunately,
men can’t be hoes,
but women can.
Being clingy isn’t cute;
it will never be.

Dead Love IV

African Woan

She was only married for 5 years,
but she lived with the man
till the day of her death.
First, he was the love of her life,
then he became her man,
then he became her husband,
then he became the father of her children,
then he became the man,
till he was simply a man,
a man that she lived with,
that she had sex with,
that she fed,
that she washed clothes for,
that she went to events with.
A man, and nothing more.

Ups and Downs

Time is like an abusive partner.

It breaks a person,
sometimes when they least expect,
but it helps them heal,

till it breaks them again.

Spaces and Phases: Something

“She’s nothing without me.”

You made her “nothing”.
She wasn’t “nothing” before you met her;
you only chose to not see her as something.

At that time,
she found it hard to believe
that she was something herself,
that she still is.
She was very sure sometimes,
and she wasn’t, at other times;
she was so vulnerable.

It was up to you to make her believe
that she was something,
that she had always been something,
but since you wanted to have total control,
you were so afraid that she could realize
she is something with or without you,
and she would leave you someday,
you convinced her that she is something,
but only with you.

You locked her in your arms,
then you locked her in her brain cell.
You didn’t let her become
what she already was- something-
and something more.

You didn’t make her something;
you made her some thing.

Dead Love III

They didn’t fall out of love with you.

Love itself is a paradise-like pit;
where else can anyone possibly fall into
if they fall out?

They climbed out of the love you shared
without you.

You felt their footsteps;
you just chose to ignore it,
or get used to their struggling to get out,
while convincing yourself that they were
drawing closer to you.

Perhaps, you simply watched them leave
because there was nothing you could do.
Someone was helping them get out;
a paradise-like pit had been dug,
an old, slightly-covered one,
or a new one, out of the blue,
and you never knew.