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P O E T R Y 

caution: don't fall

16/3/2015

 
give it up, give it all,
drop the weight, feel the fall,
loosen your shoulders, unclench your fists,
change your perspective, sink into this- 
Life,
is a melting pot, of moments and breaths and smiles and tears, and dust particles and shooting stars and burnt tongues and broken hearts and grazed knees and coffee stains,
and that one person who stays, 
when nothing else remains.

that tuesday night- home cooked meal,
trying to replicate your mother’s feel.
But she prays with those hands,
and you write wars,
she speaks of open hearts,
and you close doors.
you sit inside with all the lights turned off,
there’s a fire behind your walls,
but your windows are locked.
you tell me you understand, you probably do-
knot,
in my throat when i look at you.
i know you mean well, you always have,
but that seed of fear is now a plant.
and it settles… inside your bones,
Tell me you feel it, when the blood turns to stone,
Tell me you feel it, when the night turns so cold,
blood turns to stone, and living gets old-
wounds-
open-
neck to an esophagus,
one million thoughts and your body going backwards.
Disillusioned. Dissociated. Disconnected.
mind like an indoor swimming pool-
restless.
Caution: slippery surface.
Caution: mind the step.
Caution: don’t trip.

“We are going to go around the room and introduce ourselves. Why don’t you tell us something about you?”
“Me?” I am, I am… I am,
Too feel too much, to think too much, to be
Haunting myself, my mind, my shadow left and right,
Always curious, always wondering, always
Learning to be. student of life, up all night,
And up all day. pen and paper kisses,
Yesterday’s checklist, today’s, ‘to-do’
And, forever me. Always you.
​
you exchange laughter lines for battle scars and realise receipts are non-refundable when you’re selling to yourself,
so you hide faulty parts up on the top-shelf.
Mornings become mournings, and 
Days off become days off.
working for the sake of working.
waiting on: those extra hours, that graveyard shift, family dinners at 6, that pay slip.
and in the midst of it all, not quite sure when,
you realise: old habits die hard, or they don’t die at all,
drop the weight, feel the fall.

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