Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Imagining London

I hate it when your sea green eyes are draped with a layer of transparent tears,

I hate it when you shiver with the crisp winter nights,

I hate it how I am bound and addicted to this pen,

I hate it how you wander the streets of London
Dressed only in the night and cut black tights,

I hate it how I’m always on guard;
Waiting for a trail of words to stalk me once again,

I hate it how a knife grazes a throat;
I hate it how the knife is always yours

I hate it, most of all, how the ghosts of the pasts kiss slams into you
 
Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

thanatophobia: fear of death

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

The Loss of Marguite (inspired by I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings)


A corpse of gray
Surrounded by the faint morning light
No pulse
I’m pumped with fright
Lips stained with paleness
Eyes shut tight
The demons and devils stole you
At dawn just after night
My eyes cried rivers
My heart took flight
My lips were sewed together
Now my words will never once again have might
No more intellectual coal black eyes to have mine
Drilled into, thinking that the vivid shade was fine, so fine
No more of your fortitude, bravery and twinkling eyes
You left me only with my solitary cries
No more delicate conversations with you ‘till late dark night
My love for words is now the opposite of delight
No more prayings before bed
For God has stolen you, and I’m mislead,

I now trace the contours of your name, kneeling next to your grave
Whispering quietly, hoping that someone won’t tell me to behave
For my only comfort these days is speaking to you
Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Poem Inspired by: I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

I am blind and despised: lost in this world

I wonder over the blurry memory of my abandoning at three years of age

I hear the murmurs of the whitefolks, fearing their existence to be a sham

I see velvet black, but I am a shade of unattractive ink

I want a warm embrace, securing me from the layer of hate and harm

I am blind and despised: lost in this world,


I pretend that magic exists, allowing myself to dodge distance away from reality

I feel angel’s wings brushing my bare skin, and I try to make them thrilled once again

I touch the morning sun, hiding from it’s roaming beams like the long gone night

I worry that my Kingdom Come will be shredded and shattered into crimson red

I cry, “I didn’t come to stay...” but find myself buried deep in the triggered arms of memories

I am blind and despised: lost in this world,

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

a type of love

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Crimson Red

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Waking Up To Face Another Day...

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Future .vs. Present

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Masked

Apr 01
21haze_f's picture

Titleless

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