Not every bloom can be a rose
Or half as gorgeous, I suppose
She powdered her face when the need arose
An ugly flower, void of thorns
Can still believe she’s beautiful
Tag: writing
Lagos
There is no wind for whispers; just the silence of the sea.
As the waves lap at my feet, I soundlessly weep at the solace the sun has given my soul.
At last, I am whole, together with the sand from which my form was span
And the salt that seasons my tears.
After so much time alone, I’m finally home to a place I’ve never been.
I long to see that blue sea once again.
My Name
I don’t need you to call my name to summon me from the depths of hell
In blue-black flames I listlessly dwell, wide awake just for the sake of staying warm.
Remember, December is never far away, and yet it’s been ages since I’ve seen the languid drift of snow
It melted away with all I used to know of your voice, your escape, your sordid show.
I don’t need you to call my name to douse the flames of hell
I’ve come to know them very well, more than your deceitful, demonic spell.
The dark place where you dragged my soul is only a curse if I make it so
I’ve come to peace with death and darkness, with hate and pain and years alone.
Instead, I watch in the glimmering lights as my shadow pirouettes across the floor
Light as a feather, dead as the earth, joyous as the sun, lovely as the moon
Glowing with the fierceness of the sun at noon, I delight in that I won’t hear your voice call
My heart became a rainbow after an endless tear fall
My name is not for your lips; it is for my final and joyous withdrawal.
Drought
She wanted to cry, but no one would let her
Her sighs drew out a single letter
The drought grew long as she held her tears
It hadn’t rained for several years
She wanted to scream but no one could hear her
The thunderous rumble quaked wildly within her
If she could let go of all of her tears
It could rain in the desert the first time in years
Your Shadow
He screamed at a shadow to get out of his way.
Perplexed, she said “Why shout when you could walk right through me?”
He shrugged. “I want to be heard as much as you want to be seen. Now we’re both satisfied.”
So she remained by his side forever to dance before his eyes, and he whispered his dreams to her in the dark.
Alone.
For years, I hid in fear of letting anybody near
But once I came out of hiding, there was nobody there.
December
On a cold breeze, the leaves fly off the trees
Like scattered murderless crows who long to be alone
Who gently drift amidst the autumn mist
And float away from looming oak
To smother the ground in copper and ember
A royal carpet for Queen December
Reflections
A multi-flaceted mirror meets a single looking glass.
She drives herself crazy trying to analyze each of his reflections.
He thinks he’s seen all of her, but never peered beneath the surface.
I Believe
More than any other color, I believe in blue
The widest outstretched arms I’ve ever seen above and below the moon
In bright pastel or tempest grey, she always builds a day anew
With hope of sun or fear of pouring rain, my prayers may still come true
If I were to pick a religion, I believe it would be you
You, the watcher who hides away and watches from a brighter view
The invisible smile of a stranger that I picture in my dreams
I ponder on how you’ll never know how much your unseen smile means to me
More than any time, I believe in midnight
The one second on the clock that an erroneous day is blown away
A flitter of hope in a shivering heart beat leaps awake
Ready to make right this fresh new day
Yes, I believe in this the way I believe in virgin snow
That quietly covers our footsteps and holds our secret close
She wistfully shifts around our frozen trails
And slows the time just enough for us to observe the small details
I suppose it’s hard to not believe in God;
Who else can I find to blame the hardships of life on?
Or where do my prayers go after they fall as weary tears?
What idol can I rely on to placate all of my fears?
But no one can reply to all of the questions, all of the demands
They fall back into the frail fingers of my tired hands
So I believe in magic, the magic that makes up time
Who meticulously grooms the sea and the sky
Patiently healing wounds and removing the iron ball and chain
So the hope in my heart can finally fly.
Messages You Will Never Read
I’m only sometimes sober when I write you messages you’ll never read;
Silly thoughts and forbidden words that bring me solace you’ll never see
I hide away from terrifying truths for fear of what you’ll think of me
I lie to you, and to myself too – the truth is such an ugly thing
I wear a mask of several layers, just in case you can see through
I wander round earth’s many corners just to stay away from you
And still I circumnavigate the globe to watch you from afar
I’ve known you only in concept; I have no idea who you are
Like religion, I see you only how I would need you to be
But you’re more of a demon than an angel in reality
But that doesn’t discourage me from heathen thoughts or sorcery
I’m closer to hell than heaven, and all you’ve done is encourage me
But not enough, not quite enough to send these messages you’ll never read.
Beyond this Smile 
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