There is a beautiful song in my heart...

There is a beautiful song in my heart

But I am afraid to show it to you

Because you wouldn’t understand

Or maybe you wouldn’t believe

That a woman like me

Could love you this way...

I would love a dance in the rain

But you are too scared to get wet

Or afraid to catch a cold

Because you worry too much

That a woman like me

Cannot love you like that...

I love to sit out some nights

Watch the moon and the stars

Until I fall asleep in your arms

But you wouldn’t see it that way

That a woman like me

Can love you like that...

I have known love in different ways

It’s songs in different tunes

It’s dance in different moves

Never a soul to do it my way

Because they believe a woman like me

Knows nothing about being loved...

You have to know me to love me

You have to feel me to love me

You have to breathe the air I breathe

Feel the pains that crawl within me

Then you will know a woman like me

Can love like how I do...

Forget about flowers and candy

Forget about fine wines and brandy

I taste better than the finest chocolate

I know because I have seen my reflection

When you look at me and blink

Wondering if I can love you back...

Let me loose into the winds

Let me fly into the skies

Let me teach you a little of me

So much love I want to give

But not until you believe in me

Then you will see more than me...

There is a beautiful song in my heart

I am scared you may never hear it

Because you have it in your mind

That a woman with so much wound

Needs to lick her wounds dry

Because she can never know love...

Diseased Soul...

...and I wanted so bad to know you

For what, I am yet to know

Not that you were any special to me

Maybe you were, I don’t know

But there was something about you

A continuous nag that pushed me to you

Like how an ant can bite the tip of your boob

And the feeling of scratching just satisfies you

Like how a bug sticks onto the udder of a cow

I stuck there just sucking blood, diseased blood

Wasting away and casting away my chances at life

Not that I hadn’t seen better faced people

Or people with an aura you can only dream of

I cannot tell what struck me about you

Your deep black hair, the colour of coal mines?

No I didn’t like how tuft they were

When I brushed through, my hands jammed at the ends

It was always a painful experience

Was it your eyes that gorged out like front car lights?

No, they scared me but I found them gentle to my soul

Who would not want such satisfaction?

Maybe it is your deep, raspy voice over the receiver

When you need me to lend you a couple coins

or you needed a place to put your head

There must be something that kept me coming

Even when you broke my nose and I spit blood

Even when you twisted my arm and I had to bandage

Even when you gathered my garments and threw them

Seven storeys down and locked me out of the house

Whose rent was paid by me without a kobo of yours

I still came back and my friends called me foolish

My mother thought I must be a curse and my father,

He vowed to pound your head with his walking stick

Something was clearly wrong with my senses

...yet I still badly longed to know the person that was you

I wanted to know why I was not seeing what the world was seeing

The bastard that my friends called you

The disgrace that my father felt I had become

The low life that my surrounding subjected me to

Why was I not seeing anything at all, tell me why

You seemed perfectly how I did not want you to be

Not in my dreams and not in my desires

But you charmed me so bad it drove me crazy, still does

But how can it be that a human cannot understand these things

How can it be that one can sit so comfortably on a termite hill

The damn animals can bite and cause you sores

How is it that it seems so comfortable to sit on the back of a crocodile

And trust it to give you a ride in the water and bring you back safe

Tell me how it is because my brain cannot recollect my being

How a Sunday morning is spent paying bail in cells all over town

Because the law enforcers must not stop you for reckless driving

How a Monday morning is spent paying bills in hospitals

Because a drinking spree became a fist spree and a head was cracked

And I still wake up the next morning and want to know you

I have become a source of ridicule amongst my own peers

An SI Unit of a soul headed to the dogs

I see neighbours pull their children home at my sight

They are warned not to be seen even looking at me

And my uncles? The same ones that held my name so high

They whisper it in dark rooms and clobber their children

They mustn’t be like me for I have nothing left to show

They mustn’t be heard talking about me

Or they will be excommunicated from the clan

...but still I desire to know why you have robbed me like this

Why I can still feel your prickly beards roving around my face

Tell me why my lips still have the taste of your lips when I smirk at them

I want to know why my beddings still reek of your sweat several years on

And why my palms feel as if you are holding them like you used to do

When you would squeeze them together and promise me heaven

I can barely stand before a mirror and see the pretty that you said I was

The pimple you would stare at for hours, kissing and petting

Is now a red wounded patch for the many squeezes I have given it

So now an array of painful such black heads cover my face

And I look like a deep fried donut with protruding bulbs of red heads

My decaying stature before the world is a result of not understanding

Whether my choices are the reason I am where I am now

Or whether this curse was bound to come as the fetish priest revealed to me

Or whether you just can never get that which you wish for

There is a dark cloud hanging right above the roofing of my house

Not that it symbolizes the coming of rain, but a plague

For the ramshackle that houses my life cannot sustain even a light shower

But that does not worry me one bit, depression is the new normal

After all the filtered pictures on my profile do not reflect me

They tell of a glowing face and a glossy life and that makes me feel okay

Until you filter your own and follow with quotes that make you the angel

That one that I thought I knew and still console myself that you are

I hope we can talk about this soon...what makes me tickle

When I hear a name that sounds like yours on the streets

Or when my phone rings and I hope you have finally come to senses

Or when you write those long motivational speeches

and I shamelessly smile at them and  hope they are for me

Because I imagine they are a hint that the storm will be over soon

That I will be a societal figure looked up to like before

That I will be the SI Unit of how life should be for everyone

That my friends will make mighty posts of me being their WCW

The woman they crush on daily because she has it together

And maybe my mother will see how better my choice was from hers

The drunk whose hands shake when not holding a brown bottle

I still hope I will eventually understand this puzzle about you

When it is black and white that you are not reading from my script

...yet I still want more than anything to know you.

The Door of No Return...

I wake up one morning

It is so sudden like rising from the dead

A tingly feeling near my knee woke me up

I watch as they lick at my wounds undisturbed

I used to feel and understand pain

But it is not the same anymore

I can barely lift my hand to wave the flies away

A confetti around my wound, like a big black blanket

I find myself with a smile that ends at the sides with a twitch

This feels like love all together, just a different kind

I am staring at cuffed hands

Legs chained to heavy metals, in a corner

The room is tiny, enough for one

It is all dark and one large window

I do not need the light, just air

When I stretch my leg I can feel the walls

Heavy, many years of sustainability

I wonder how many souls have been here

The door is made of metals within and wood outside

There are no crevices left to the side

And a stagnant silence surrounds it

I can only hear the shuffling of feet from a faint distance

Maybe it is the rodents racing around at free will

Making rounds at the dry stains of blood covering my feet

The Door of No Return...

I wallow in my own insecurities

A captive of my own depression

And I have sunk so deep in this cult

It is like an oath I must have sworn

I promise myself to walk away ever day

But I fail terrible as soon as the thought is at mind

So I slump into the earthen floor, with heavy stench

A mix of urine and human waste, now a perfect floor

I lay my wasted body on the cold brick walls

And choke into my own sorrows

I have absorbed so much pain in my bloodstream

It runs through my veins with my blood

But I have mastered an art

That of a gleaming smile, a perfected lifestyle

But within me, I grapple at my misfortunes

My inability to loosen to life

I probably do not even deserve life

I am a cannibal, so it is said

I have torn into the skins of some

Ripped out the hearts of many more

But I sit still and watch each blood drip

I sit still and watch with a glee in my eye

A twinkle of amazement compounds this

I am not moved by how they squirm as the blood spurts

No surge of emotion makes any attempt in my system

Just a little worry that I did not dig deep enough

I certainly cannot be clothing the skin of a human being

I am a wild spirit, an animal

Possessed by my illusions, obsessed with delusions

I crane my neck to hear out for anything

Any wind that may trigger the bloody juices within me

And I pick on anything and I dismantle it to nothingness

I am not stopped by blows of weighty metals

I may slip and fall but I rise to my feet as immediately

And I start it all over, all over and it is never over

I smirk at my lip when it gets torn

I grasp at my hip when it gets cracked

And as hard as my head is banged

I am undefeated, I clutch to the ground

Puff a little more and pounce right back

Pain is so normal a thing to me, it turns me on

It is so usual an object; I have it like a wall painting

I am totally unaware of whatever emotion goes with it

So I gather the last of laughter ringing in my head

As it is the best of how I can narrate my pain

And I am always on the wait for that moment

That laughter moment that tells just how much I feel

I must have lost touch with humanity

All I relate with is this sadist aura that never escapes me

All I care about is the strength within me to defend me

I spend my days and my nights in this cage

Figuring out me, planning my actions to people

I have been subdued by my own dejection

My only way of normalcy is pain

I want so bad to feel pain, it is like a drug addiction

When I cannot get it I gamble for it

I scrape through straws of lumps of hay

Scamper through discarded metals of scrape

Until I feel that emotional surge of the sweetness of pain

Yes, it feels this good to have something to whimper about

It feels like smoking one puff of pot and getting high on it

It feels like we can now talk, I am normal again

I brood over the sun as it paves way for darkness

I begin to feel a cold shudder down my spine

The pitch darkness in the room embraces me

A reminder that I am alone

That I will always be alone

Because the world cannot accommodate my kind

All wild animals are caged and padlocked so heavy

For they must be kept out of reach of humans

But some people make a joke out of bravery

They hallucinate about their capability to tame

So they pick these wilds and try to pet them

But that which started with a laugh ends with a cry

They wake up one day and the wild turns on them

Because wild animals are not fashioned to love

So they do nothing towards understanding affection

They wriggle at the touch of their skin in discomfort

Other than fight it with their claw

When too raged, they choose to use the canines

Because the bureaucracy of love is not in their system

I try to move my leg a bit

The shackles are too strong for me

I must be a very dangerous creature

It is possible that they drugged me here

They could not possibly drag me here

I might unleash my ferocity on them

So they could certainly not attempt to touch me

My valour could spill on them and harm each one

Before I get even the strand of my hair into this cage

Shut so firmly by the door of no return

You are most likely reading this

And jogging your subconscious on what I mean

I will break it down to you

I am not human, never have been since

I cannot understand my capability to narrate this

Still I did manage to pen it down this far

I am walking on hot coal, has been all my life

But it still it is difficult to let my feet get cooled

I have actually thought about working on forgiveness

But the thought of how dilapidated my life is stalls me

It tears me so much apart that my brain shuts out

Then all I see is tiny stars circling above my head

I am a fugitive of my own melancholy

I have tried with fail to talk myself out of it

Gone as far as poetry because it is supposed to heal

Painted fine artworks with perfect representations of how I feel

Composed songs of each passing moment, danced a little bit

But the excitement lasts as soon as I put my pen down

Then the depression grabs me by the neck

Ties my legs tightly in fishing ropes, tangled in fishing nets

It rocks the boat to the middle of the sea and drops me there

The helplessness makes it easier for me to sink right in and drown

And to drown I do until the sea is still again

It is probably why I love the sea

Because my spirit always sends me to the waves and tides

I am like a zombie, an apocalypse

The smell of fresh blood is like that of my mother’s fried chicken

It calls me out so loud and I cannot stop walking to it

The feeling of revenge is so much a satisfaction

I can barely see the light of change

Exhaustion must have gotten me here

Disgust must be what keeps me motivated

You probably do not understand all this

Do not bother straining yourself to until you get here

Until you wake up one day to the sound of a church bell

Calling out to your oppressors to gather in a room of worship

Built right above you, you right under them

In a dungeon, cuffed, shackled, starved, drained and remorse

They will pray for you and watch over you as you wear away

You will not understand until you wake up one morning and feel lost

Lost in your own skin, in your own thoughts, in your own beliefs

Until you wake up one night and you cannot see, but you are not blind

You cannot see what other people are seeing, you can see differently

What your eyes can see others may never get even a tinge of it

Not until they understand this apocalypse, this phase, this moment

Not until they bring themselves to how your blood tastes

When you are unable to explain why you suddenly have a brain shut down

Do not bother to try to wrap your head around this, until then

I will however leave you with a little something

Do not ever wish to get to the door of no return

Try to emancipate yourself from mental slavery

Because the cuffs will bruise your arm and make you bleed

The shackles will weaken your ankles and leave black marks

Your life will be confined in a dungeon

A small dark room, just like a cave, just like my own

I am writing with the last strength left of me

I may make it through this or,

I may succumb to it, maybe, but

I am not responsible for how you choose to take this message

But when they say you should let sleeping dogs lie

Throwing a bone at them does not make you friendly

It makes you a possible enemy, a prey to be hunted

I am in a sorry state right now

A body numb of insults and dead of pain

I have been accustomed to wild ways and dark days

I feel safest at the mouth of a sea for there lays my spirit

It was never wild until it had no choice but to be wild

The solitude state within these walls is an inexplicable magnitude

It is a perfect reminder that the east can never be west

That the north can never be south

But a justification that I will always be alone, always

At least I have a window to let in some air

I do not need light yet because it blinds my eye too much

This is the last you will hear of me

For this is my door of no return...

I am scared...

I am scared

Not because you love me

Not because you have chosen me

Not because you might disappoint me

Not because I love you

Not because I have chosen you

Not because I might disappoint you

I am scared

Because of the way you know me

Because of the way you read my mind

Because you care even when I don’t deserve

Because I may not really know you

Because I cannot really read your mind

Because I may not care in the same measure

I am scared

That after these many years

You talk to me like you know me for long

That after these many years

You still feel we can make what we couldn’t

That after these long years

You still think my beauty is as you first saw it

I am scared

Of not being able to give back as much

Of not having changed even with the gap

Of losing you like I lost myself

Of you not giving me as much

Of your life having changed since

Of never having to see you again

But I am more scared

That I may not be as fragrant as roses

That I may not be the princess in your dreams

That I may not find humour in your talk

That my view of life may not coincide with yours

That I might want to fight for myself

That I might want to protect myself from you

I am even more scared

That I may love you more than you do me

That I may hurt myself in the process

That I may spend my life nursing my wounds

That there is little you can do about this

That there is nothing you can do to help me

That I may have to live with it

I am scared

Of being myself with you

Of losing myself to you

Of committing my heart to you

I do not want to wake up one morning

And not know how I ended up here

Or why I ignored every red flag

I am scared

Because you love me

Because you have chosen me

Because you might disappoint me

Because I love you

Because I have chosen you

Because I might disappoint you

This thing Love...

I still look myself in the mirror and I wonder

What is this that everyone keeps going on about love

Why does everyone have to put so much pressure on it

This thing love

I have lived a good amount of time on the surface of earth

Yet, I still find it hard to wrap my head around its existence

It disturbs me in the wake of the morning and troubles me in sleep

This thing love

Why does it have to be about a moment of pain, like

Why do I have to prove it by going through some form of pain

Can't we just laugh together and call it love

Can't we just spend hours together and call it love

Can't we just talk about our dreams and say its love

Cant we just let love not have any form of definition

This thing love

A guy walked out on me because I cannot catch grenades for him

Ridiculous! Absurd! That must have been the meanest thing

So I asked him whether his intention was for me to die

He laughed and said, if you love me you’d die for me

That was absolutely funny so I laughed my head off

I never really wanted to be like Jesus, you know

Jesus is Jesus and I am me...we cannot do the same things

Everyone says He DIED for everyone

So I turned my back and told the guy, I cannot even die for myself

I never saw even a strand of his hair after that day

So it kept me wondering about this thing love

It must come with a lot of bloodshed as it appears

This thing love

Then another took me by the shores of the lake

He said, if he fell into the waters what would I do

I rung my eye round and stopped at a group of fishermen

I responded, I would run over there and seek for help

He frowned into my face and asked, do you love me?

I nodded my head and said yes I do

Then you would follow me into the waters and rescue me

I love fantasy, imagination and creativity in life

Those must be probably the only things I love

No I would not jump into the lake with you

I want to stick around and hold the memories we have together

Someone has to stay around and do that, because that is love

That sounded more romantic than two dead bodies

None alive to tell of how a fairy tale ended in such tragedy

That was the last I saw of him

This thing love

So I am still wrapping my head around this thing love

And trying to hope that I do not become paranoid

Reality and reason is the only instance under which we live

Anything beyond that is a fairy tale or hallucination sometimes

I am still trying hoping that one day I can wake up to what love is

I have been accused of not letting go and letting love

But how can you let yourself into something you do not understand

The closest I have come to understand love

Is when I wake up to a bright sunny morning and birds chirping

Or when I wake up to rain pellets hitting the frames of my window

Sometimes when I stand by the shores of the sea and watch tides come and go

Or when I find myself in a space, serene and in solitude

Those are my moments of letting go and if that is love

Then I have probably seen love and it is nothing like people call it

I do not want to spend my life trying to prove anything

I do not want to hold myself with worry because I am not sure how to love

I do not want to dig into my skull, killing myself about how to show love

No I do not want it if it is all about torturing myself day and night

My heart can only hold onto the things that sooth it

It already carries around so much pain and regret it cannot take another

So I look into my mirror and stare at the tear going down my face

I think I have carried love for such a long time in life

Because love is about those things we see but we cannot talk about

Love is about those things we feel but we are limited to express

Love is about those things we want to share

But only with those that are under the same spell as we are in

And if love must be described as pain, then I have loved

I still love, because love is that pain you do not see with your eyes

Love is that continued misery you keep going on and on with

But the scare of its conception derails you and it clings at your sleeve

Love is that fragile moment in the hands of someone that weakens your knee

Love is giving and not hoping to receive a thank you note

Love is doing that which makes your soul happy, seeing another smile

Love is the sound of continuous musicals in the midst of every season

Love is just love and should always be love

This thing love

I may carry it for another longer period

If someone does not walk up to me and say, that is love...