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.

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Unrequitedly Requited II

You only fell in love with me
because I fell in love with you;
you were happier
before we became “we”.

Moving On

Nude Back

“Nude Back” by Michael Escoffery

I was devastated,
but more accurately, devastation was me.
I wasn’t happy,
and almost all of the time,
unhappiness clung very tightly to me.

I didn’t even feel that I was living,
that I was,
because I couldn’t feel,
and when I did, it hurt.

One minute, I thought,
“he left me,
so I’ll leave me too.”
The next, I thought,
“he dislikes me now,
so I’ll like me.
Who the hell needs him;
who?”

I’ll dislike all the things he likes.

He likes water,
so I’ll hate water.
He likes air,
so I’ll hate air.
He likes fire,
so I’ll hate fire.
He hates life,
so I’ll hate life.

The ‘only’ that truly like me,
water,
air,
fire
and life;
are the same things keep us alive.

How do you find peace
when a piece of you is gone?
How do you put yourself together
when you’re left in the cold to burn?

“Does he miss me?
Does he miss at feast,
or has he found a different Miss?
Is there a new Beauty for my Beast?”

You have a list of things you hope
he’ll remember and cherish at least.

It hurts;
it’s like an invisible stab to the chest.
It really hurts.

Moving on
and looking back;
moving back
and shedding tears.
Moving on
and looking back;
looking blank
and shedding fears.

That is how the broken have moved on,
for years and years.

Don’t Live in Denial

When someone shows you
who they really are,
you must believe them.
Don’t live in denial.
Make no excuses for them.
Go over what you learnt
from your experience with them,
forgive yourself for everything
you think you did wrong,
and move on.

Exist in the present,
bury the dead feelings that have
made your heart their home,
and leave it all behind.
Live.


UNREQUITED LOVE:

There are two kinds of abuse in love. The first kind is the one you suffer from before the other person shows you who they really are and what they really want. The abuser would be them if it’s the first kind, because they can’t really decide if they want you or not, at your own expense. They’re not sure if they love you, so they want you to wait till they make up their mind.

The other kind is self-inflicted. Someone bluntly says they don’t love you or they don’t want to have anything to do with you and you say “oh, I mustn’t pay any attention to that. He’s a Pisces. He’s just being his moody self; there’s nothing wrong here,” or someone refuses to return your calls and messages and you say “you know how these INFP Capricorns and Scorpios are, plus his grandma’s sister’s daughter’s baby daddy’s second cousin’s niece died, so he’s probably just in a bad mood or busy with work”. No, what are you doing?

The other person/party wouldn’t be at fault in cases like the second one. It’s up to you to jolt out of this terrible, energy-sucking fantasy that you have placed yourself in.

Ask yourself, “what good is this unbalanced, abusive union or lack thereof to me?” If your answer is “none”, you can make a change right there and then. You can cry if you need to. You have to make yourself happy again, without them. 

You wouldn’t need to worry about, or be unsure if someone loves you if they do, because it will be clear; it will be as clear as a bright, sunny day.

The key to the prison in your heart is in a safe place in your mind. In cases of unrequited love, one must accept the challenge of thinking more and feeling less. Feeling and daydreaming, till it begins to affect your health, will affect you very badly. It will make you useless to yourself. It’s hard, but one must die first to possess eternal life. Stop living in denial. Let go! 🌻 “Alaafia.” 💛🍯

Love Lives, Love Dies

Every love is a risky gamble.
A person might need you for a thing,
for something, for anything,
but it’s for a set amount of time.
They’ll be the butterfly;
you’ll be the flower.
They might bring beauty to your life;
it’s what butterflies do.

When they’re done with you,
they’ll give any excuse to leave.
They’ll be very manipulative;
they’ll turn it on you.
They’ll play with your intelligence
and blame it on you-
their desire to flap their wings,
their need to explore.

“Your petals don’t smell as nice
as they used to;
I’m leaving you.”
“Your breasts aren’t perky enough and
you are not as tight as I want, down there.”
“You have thorns and they’re poking me;
oh, if only you were a red rose!”
“You were rude to me”,
so I’m saying ‘goodbye’ now.”
“You are letting the breeze
blow you from side to side,
and I can’t deal with that.”
“If only you were a few inches longer.”

Why do you think a person who has
treated you so badly still deserves you?
You have to snap out of it!
Make new friends!
You owe it yourself to heal;
you owe it to yourself to feel-
to feel free.
You owe it to yourself to breathe-
to live.
Grieve.
Forgive.
From the imaginary relationship
that you’re still holding on to?
Leave.

disaSTAR

If the stars come together as one,
they’d make a gorgeous display.
If the little moons left the Moon
to spread across the sky,
they’d create something beautiful too.
A twinkling, giant disaSTAR,
and its little MOONsters.

It won’t last for long;
stars aren’t built to not crave for attention.
At least one would pop
out of the group often and complain,
“I’m not being noticed enough!”,
and in no time, there’d be no group.
The moons are better together as one Moon;
things are good as they are.

Love and Pride

She always went back to plead
every time they fought,
whether or not she was in the wrong,
because she had swallowed her pride
alongside his semen a while before;
her self-esteem was wounded,
at the very core.

He didn’t want to be with her;
but he didn’t want to lose her.
Thoughts of her filled him with pleasure
when she was far away,
and with disgust each time
she came back to stay.
There’s only so much one’s pride can take;
my people often say “one day na one day”.

If Love and Pride could have sex,
she [Love] would always like to stay on top.
Pride would obviously be
more sexually active;
Love won’t be in control for long.

They fought again;
they were both in the wrong.
He waited for her return,
but she’s wasn’t going back anymore.
She had coughed out her senses;
she had rescued her drowning pride.
Now he huffs and puffs because
he wants his stray bitch back,
but “again” is a gain,
and this time, as always, it’d be whose again?

 

Image result for the devil card                                                                        Image result for the eight of cups card

We’ll Get “Bark” to You

New

We’re very qualified,
but we’re not.

“Acceptable resumes should be printed on white A4s”,
but we are black ones.

Lynette.jpg

Our experiences and skills are printed in white,
just like everyone else’s,
but that’s never enough.

They’ll get back to us,
but why wait for the “barks”?
Their backs are already turned at us;
they don’t hire the “darks”.

New York

Paintings by Lynette Yiadom-Boakye (born 1977, UK)

Don’t Worry, Be Happy

The moon won’t shine bright without darkness;
it won’t appear to say “hello”.
If you are filled with so much sadness,
if your light of joy is really low,
your heart is plagued with heavy emptiness,
and happiness’ middle name is currently “Slow”,
stay strong in this moment of darkness,
the moon’ll be right there to make it glow.

Choose One, Choose Me

I so desperately wanted to be a star,
and now that you have made me one,
how do I tell you that I hate it when
I struggle for your attention?

I want to be the star,
the only star, on this sky,
and if that wish is impossible to grant,
make me the guiding star.
I want to have you to myself, Moon.
I really hate the way you ‘her’;
I want you to turn things ‘her-round’.