#youngpoets

Ironically, people value things more than they value people. Ironically, we are people.

We were ugly, but we did it together.

One fist full of hair, the other with matches.

You tore me apart and I set us afire.

What we created was beautiful,

It was raw, and it spoke truth.

Now we stand, empty handed.

Our flames died out, we watch our

Ashes fall from separate eyes. Oceans away.

The seas from which we view the world,

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The daylights dimming all over again and the chirping of birds are fading away,

The irony and complexion of just a day turns a thought, into a tree, into clouds drifting away,

He came with all sorts of warning signs

Enough to tell me that he wasn’t the one

But my dears I so wanted him to be the one,

That I slow danced with in my kitchen at age forty…

His sinister smile should’ve tripped my alarm

And caused warning bells to scream

But all I could hear each time he smiled

Were wedding bells accompanied with visions of me walking down an aisle

I should’ve seen the demons lurking behind his eyes

Promising to tear me apart

But all I saw was an emerald sea

That calmed all my demons

His burning touch should’ve told me that I was playing with fire

But never have I ever felt such passion that set me on fire

I wanted to feel enough of it

So much that I pressed myself closer, willing him to keep on burning me…

And everytime he kissed me

I should’ve tasted the poison he injected

I didn’t,

For all I could taste were the sugary sweet promises of forever

I should’ve smelt myself burning

Everytime he pressed me close

That as you guessed wasn’t the case,

For all I could perceive was the smell of him that I loved

It wasn’t until it was too late

That I begun to process the warning signs

I finally heard my alarms scream

And saw demons worse than mine behind his eyes

I finally felt myself burning

And tasted the bitter poison in my mouth

But I never smelt myself burning,

Not till I had been reduced to nothing but ash and dust….

Just because something is and has been and will be,

does not mean that I have, do and ever will accept that this is all there is.

I deserve more.

Spit in my face will not make me a martyr to the cause.

I'd rather lie in wait, trip the giant and plunge a steak through the thick skull of a tyrant.

I would rather remove each finger, joint by joint and silently feed it back to my slave master.

I'd rather rip out the bowels of Cerberous with my teeth than accept that I only deserve the minimum you have to offer.

Warriors deal in blood.

Not negotiation.