Queen of Trisetess
I sit in silence.
Tears betray the death of another beating heart .
Distant to my heart ache.
Love is meaningless
accented by meaningful nuances.
I’m alone with the pangs,
Unsure if I want to feel the caress of familiar hands
if I’d rather escape to a nether land.
Conjuring Magicians ready to sell inconspicuous potions.
Allowing me to flee from my skin.
Threaded by veins
Morose in temperament.
Aloof to the consequences of escaping this reality.
Complicit to the sadness that shrieks in my gut.
It’s not nearly as stomach able as watching the chambers of my heart in my hands
For the moments tangled in lust.
The desire to be a part of some one else’s sun.
To inhabit their orbit.
Study the stars,
share butterfly kisses,
break free into a wild run.
Freedom is a state of mind.
Release me from the bonds of this exile.
I am the hunted.
I am the hunter with the blade ready to attack,
For this is my vessel.
My only means to move forward.
Cut the strings
for this puppet will not be coerced to dance nor sing-
until I find a simple hymn.
One to attest that another mortal respects I am more
than my sin.
Words hurriedly apologise to re capture that soul;
In the glimmer of dawn — it cowers fearful
Have a piece of my heart.
Have a piece of my words.
Sully not my thoughts to taint my heart with more leacherous poison.
I am breathing-
merely existing to find out how to win.
This is Life’s charade.
the cards dealt to each hand.
Thanks to Allah for I have both in tact .
I’m able to use my body,
I’m able to use my mind to forgive.
Not give in.
The melancholy of my aura glitters like a Midas collectible when he touches the man I call my king.
The weight of this gloom
Thunders over me.
Repressing my desire to quit killing myself.
Smile authentically — blossom again for it’s not time to hide away under bed sands , muted enough to make me think I’m still not thin-
These words don’t do justice to how I truly feel.
I lose people I love and gain friends who form a circled ring around me.
I have to reach out and allow a hand to bring me full circle.
Fighting for the thud in my heart
Fighting for another hot flushed blush.
Wondering if I have already died.
Is living not for the likes of my kind?
Am I here to exist glibly in a ruin of poorly constructed pyramids?
I sit here in silence , blowing out smoke rings made out of my woes.
I’m the queen of Tristeness.
My position is to not give in.
Posted on Aug 18, 2018, in writing and tagged Creative works, dark poetry, Emotions, freedom, Love, MY WORLD, POWER POETS, self expression, these are my words. Bookmark the permalink. 4 Comments.