That Emotional Bullshit

I am 10 shades darker than awkward, I am what my opinion of myself contradicts,
a walking metaphor on the other side of a burnt bridge,
I shrink back at the sight of love.
My shadow follows a empty dictionary with no meaning
because I’m still trying to define myself.
Some days I love you with all I have,
other days it gets hard to remember your smell.
Forgive me but have I ever loved you before? your heart feels like a familiar place,
one day you might completely understand me but not today.
I have surgical footprints and I barely dictate my own movements,
I question God and why he has failed to prove his own existence.
I cannot change the world I barely change my screensaver,
I hold on to my own nightmares and refuse to give it to the dream catcher.
I love you but maybe not deeply enough,
everyday I try to leave you so you cannot hurt me 6 years from now.
you fell in love with idea of me but don’t know what my scars are about,
maybe I’m not cut out for this type of life,
the “happily ever after, til death do us apart”.
I can no longer play these fucking game with you,
don’t use me like a bus station, you cannot love me like it’s an option to you.
Stop treating me like an emotional doormat,
the fabrics on my skin wasn’t meant for the soles of your feet,
I was perfectly fine til you decided to halfway love me.

I’m a pigeon in the subway trying to blend with flamingoes,
I walk across the sun then slide down rainbows.
I wear a crown in my sleep and my heart beats to reggae,
there is so many things I want to share with you but you just not there yet.
Somewhere on the surface I despise you,
you have let go 4 times before, how dare you.
Yes I’ve counted, no I haven’t decided.
whether the joke is really on me?
and do you get a kick on pulling all the strings?
or do I control who we could actually be?
I try to think about people who could soul love me and I can’t even find one,
just a sad reminder of how lonely I’ve become
Maybe no one wants to know who I am,
I try to let people in but I can’t.
I don’t smile often, I cry instead,
but it’s okay these tears dry themselves.
Just waiting for someone to love me even when the lights go on,
I don’t want you to settle for me I want to be the one you chose.
I strip in front of the mirror every morning, decode all my emotions,
remove my insecurities, take off my guilt and leave my pride on the floor,
then put them all back on before anybody knows.
My silence too loud to fit in my back pocket so I have become it,
I’ve been running away since I was 11 but now I’m just too tired,
I can hear my mistakes catching up to me if I really stay quiet,
I give up on myself every weekend it’s better than pretending that I was trying.
If somehow your feelings change, I know you would tell me,
I’m not broken but some parts of me are missing.
This is just a fraction of what I have yet to say,
Still conquering demons in my own brain.
I hear my own voice while listening to 808s and heartbreaks
but when you finally figured out how to love me I just hope its not too late.

The Negro Man Who Called Me Queen

He touched me with the mahogany tree branch on his skin,
I could taste the cinnamon in his blinks…
as he stared at me,
I love the way my name emancipated his tongue into an African type of beauty,
and his voice was a familiar sound that took centuries to reach me.
he said “Nubian Queen, they can’t love your sunkissed skin,
but they don’t know that this is the shade that I’m inlove with.”

I’ve spend 4,015 days trying to wash away the coffee stains my parents poured on to me,
hoping that one day I’ll fit into the tone of my own painting,
waiting on my own people to recognize me.
Pain is black men telling you that your are too dark to make it to your own wedding,
that you have to try a little harder since yellow is not the colour you painted in,
rejection is black men telling you that you should start dating white guys
with stripped ties
who might love those charcoal tights,
and I looked for love in the wrong places my whole life.

So tell me negroid man how did you see me without the lights on?
did this melanin call the sun in your eyes like its dawn.
forgive me, I get nervous when you look at me,
do you really think I’m beautiful?
He smiled and said…
“beautiful is when you pour acceptance into the cracked spaces in your heart,
its when you are able to outline your drawing with love,
beautiful is being half a glass full but still enough,
its what your mirror is entirely made of.”
he walked into my life with soft honey melodies in between each footstep,
he counted the teardrops on my hands and said “Empress I’ve loved you way before social media turned you into a hashtag.”

The things I remember

I remember that day, like I created it myself, you watched me draw Constellations in the skies,
While speaking the native language that I read in your skin.
I wrote floodlines in the palm of you hands,
I loved you slowly like gradualness of moonlight.
I will hold you like ‘always’ holds onto ‘forever’.
And talk in a tone only understood by halos in the dark.
Remembering…
When my heart was a tsunami hitting the shores of your hands.
When my body was an earthquake that trembled everytime the tectonic plates of your lips separated and you smiled.
When sandstorms would form whenever you blinked.
I used to try and flood away the drought you left in my mouth each time we spoke.
I am a natural at being a disaster of a human being.
And your name is still the only colour I bleed
If you only know what your presence did to me,
you’d came up with words to call all these emotions I bury underneath my flesh.
You are a painting with colours have yet to learn.
A love like a sentence without a full stop, because its endless.
Endless like the galaxies God drew into existence

I remember how your voice easily resonated with my soul as it traveled with the wind,
causing hurricanes to breathe in my chest every time you looked at me.
I see no else but the king who stands before me.
Whose heartbeat is the song I wouldn’t mind falling asleep to.
You echo rivers into oceans, flowers into trees made a woman out a girl who was once afraid of complements as much as she was afraid of death.
I remember when I used to hide lies in the inside of my chest.
But now I stand for you, stand for us, I see nothing but the crown you carry on your head.
You are the gravity that hold me down in more ways than one,
I need you like the earth needs the sun.
I watched you grow into beautiful,
Promise me that you will stay beautiful.

Remember when we existed in time where love didn’t even understand us so it gaves us away to different emotions that spoke in a voice we never fully could hear.
Its been too long and I finally allowed the truth to escape from underneath my tongue.
I only have 60 seconds in a minute, 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day, 365 days in a year, which I will chose to love you differently each day,
At the end of each year I’ll start all over again.

God forbid that the world has to build walls high enough to keep us apart, I’d write you letters of forever everyday, when you read them the word will sing in your presence.
I will whisper my name in leaves…
hoping they will travel to wherever you may be.
So you might have a reason to hold on to me.
I will kiss loyalty into your lips,
Scratch bass drums into your skin,
Allow the sun to rise on your shoulders, and set on your hands,
Paint the truth in all your thoughts of me,
you are my brand new set of angel wings,
And I can never fly without you.
I swear your voice has become my conscience,
And I’ll walk into your life like a size 4 commitment.
For I’d bury my pride, abandon my doubts, and abort the part of me that thinks I can survive without you, because that part of me is usual good at lying.
I know I can tattoo happiness into your life, pierce in all the reasons why I love you
and repair your eternity ’til I become what you would live for.

You are light and it’d be foolish not to love the solar power which you are.
I’d be the backbone that’s makes you taller,
I will forever stay your pretty young thing even when we older.
I’d be the sleeping pills that drifts you into comfortness,
Living without you makes no actual sense.
I’d be your favourite book because you are the only one who has been able to read me.
There is a part of you buried inside me.
I pray that every morning you wake you will still pick me over everything.
I hope I am all the things you remembered about me,

Because…

King you are still all the things I remember….

Dear Adam

DEAR ADAM.

Adam. God created you in he’s image,
Created by a being with infinite wisdom.
had the title as the first man to live on earth,
Yes you were the first.
made of dust and given a home,
Who knew soon it would’ve all been gone.
you must of been honored to be God’s first human creation.
The only man who lived though was never born out of a woman.
You spared your rib so he can design your equal. She was literally made for you…

Eve. You were created with the rib under Adam’s chest,
Meant to blend to be one flesh.
who knew Adam’s rib would have made you so beautiful. But you both took a bite into imperfection, and we all bare the visible birth mark of death.

But when you sinned against God, when you walked over to that tree,
did you anticipate that one day there would be wars against Adams and Eves
just so ‘she’ would be allowed to keep her own skin.
Where the world is dominated by some other ‘him’.
A pirate searching for the X that marks the spot of the tresures below her waist.
Pretending to be real, but being a man is far more than just copy and paste.
Your sin caused you to evolve into the nightmare that crawl from under her bed,
Just so your hunger for power can be feed.
You grew fangs and claws and roared while scratching the exteriors
Of women’s trust and stealing their crowns just so they feel inferior.
I doubt you’ll ever understand, you’re the monster in daylight, darkness in the afternoon.
You’re not the man in dark alleys you are the dead end in a dark alley, Hollow inside with a taint hint of callousness.
A dead end because you kill the self esteem
by defiling those who carry a form of angelic on their skin.

Tell me how did you escape from her nightmares into reality? how did you disguise yourself as human is far beyond me.
Where did you buy the make up to look less like a vampire?
Should have known that the devil is a liar.
Evolution made you into the devil’s companion and the worst part is…we can’t tell the difference.
And you barely suffer the consequences.

Cannibals!!!
That devour the innocence of fragile pieces of art,
I want to end you life.
monsters who tear pages out of your purity until the is nothing left to read of you,
a soldier invading the land in between a woman’s country,
just to benefit from the oil she protect in her Afghanistan,
Her war is to defend herself from this kind of terrorism.

A faceless creator who touched you in all the places you marked with stop signs on your body ignoring vital traffic lights as he drives through you, just to prove to you that he can.

Demon!!!
You scare woman into hiding the truth underneath their tongues, while they try stitching love back into their skin, and forcing tears not to escape their eyelids every time there is a mention of you,
I can still feel the cracks she carries in her womb.
You are not a man, you are the gremlin that walked out of a horror film and made us think you are human.
I have never had so much anger for a men I cannot even recognize.

Adam?…

What if I gave you a mirror to witness the creature you have become, you might also choke on these actions, because these sins are harder to swallow…
Eve is out there in the world soaking herself in water just so she can wash off your smell from her conscience, dye herselve into a different colour of security, trim out the smirk you left in her memory, bleach away the fingerprints you left inside of her. She bought a new shade of foundation just so she could make-up for wall you tore down, a concealer to hide away the shadow you sent to follow her, can’t you see no lipstick can cover the screams she mufles in her pillow every night.

How are you even alive? You deserve to be stoned to death since your heart is as hard as alabaster.
I search deep to find the answer…
In my cervix to the reason of why you would enter…
Without stopping to think any better…
Who are you if not a predator?
All I want to know is what is going to take to get rid of you. I want to leave you in a gas chamber and watch you suffocate on your own sins.
Let you drown in the tears of all your victims, I want to drag you into hell by your horns and let you burn in flames created by the fire buried inside.
But that won’t get rid of Eve’s pain.

Was this your plan all along? To tear off her wings just so she can never be rid of you?
What type of life form are you?
Did you know you would leave stab wounds in her dreams from the beginning?
Or is this a punishment because you were lead out of the Garden of Eden?

There is a thousand and one things I’d like to tell you when I finally get to unmask your behaviour. But all I’ll do if offer you a tall glass of water, because I’m sure lurking in corners and scanning for prey has made you thirsty.

PS. Eve was made for you, I guess you weren’t made for her.

Yours sincerely: someone who wants to kill the werewolf that lives inside you.

Flow Masengesho

Rose petals

ROSE PEDALS

No one will ever be able to understand a love affair like mine, this love tramples over every kind, even though you will never understand this love, it was the only love that we grew accustomed to. But wait it was beautiful…you see broken homes and gunshot wounds in the reflection of every tear. Cries that sounded like sopranos along side playing a violin with missing strings and a tree branch, I can still hear the choir performed by all those who got left behind, feel the bass of those who ran through dead, hear the symphonies cause by the sounds of shattered memories.

Shhh…listen…
If you are really quiet you can still hear the treble clef of a tired woman who won’t stop walking while holding her only living child. It was the best orchestra ever heard, our home being beaten to the muses that sang in the wind.

This love gave crimson rose pedals that flowed from their flesh, bullets that would kiss our skin, while churches are being burned to the ground, call that starting a new flame.- its clear that we made Valentine’s day seem mediocre-
It was sad how it became a thing of you have to hide!
To ensure any of your rights!
Don’t waste your time saving souls or being kind!
You have to eventually pick a side!
When desperation kicks in there is no time!
Then you are paralysed to decide!
Who Lives stay or get left behind!
I guess I now understand why it was called a genocide!

People spread out surrounding home.

Rwanda…

We were boarding a country once called home, call us the human fences.
Sense of security was crippled by the broken limbs of society. We were praying for a land the world might have never known existed. Our oxygen became so stale we began to question our creator and his purpose.
Disappointment stitched our lips shut while and circumstance tied our knees to the ground.
Can’t you feel this love, people loved a land so much that they believed that they should be the only ones to claim it.
Yes a selfish kind of love. This was the aftermath of love. A love that nailed death to your chest.
Dear world we are are sorry, I apologize for wasting your time by obligating you to help us, we didn’t mean to be heard everyday. Invisibility out grew our bodies, and we could no longer fit in out own silence.

We lived in mother Africa’s womb and she decided to have an abortion to get rid of a country that is small enough to fit in the palm of your hand.
We have tears strapped to our shoulders, bruises on our knees and blood from battered feet.
God lost the ultimate tug of war to Satan.
Torn by war.
Worn by being torn.
War torn.
They loved us in all the wrong ways.

Flow Masengesho.

GRAFFITI PROSTITUTE

She is the definition of a solo performer singing out loud cries of silence, sometimes she wonders if her shadow would still follow her if it had a choice. Her life story is as tangible as sunlight, she taught herself how to smile through her fear.

She is the torn pages of her own history book and what her native tongue forgot to speak years ago, a head on collision caused by her parents driving to fast on a dirt road just to feel whole.

Drenched in all the words she couldn’t call herself,

Covered in her own mistakes as she drips self esteem from her fingertips,

She believes that she is undeserving to breath as her future is adducted by her past.

 

She is being raised by street light instead of her father, the only language he spoke were liquor stores on a Sunday afternoon, maybe that’s why she allows stranger to come inside her by vaguely permitting them to spread her leg apart like the torn pages that she is, they have become too thirsty to pour water into her empty glass,

watching her became as transparent as broken windows after a fire,

they couldn’t love her but appreciated how she gifted them by allowing them in between her thighs.

 

People spray painted her lifestyle onto mural walls, subjected to everyone’s stares but never to be taken ownership for.

Looked over because to some graffiti is not an art by vandalism, the same way her edges are subdue to trans passers destroying the property of her body as she gives in to these invasion,

And when rain falls it hits her harder than Gunshots during a war,

Missiles targeted to set her Islands of safety on fire,

Most days she grows tired of living in shambles.

Depression came when she willingly gives up her bare skin,

Hoping she can be bared with.

To her it is love that only last moments,

And having single moments of love was almost good enough.

Selling her dreams to anyone willing to purchase them as the consequences of forgotten comdoms become evident inside her.

She takes the liberty by removing a mistake and she now carries a graveyard in her womb,

Refusing to allow her seed to be the same accident her parents tried to turn into a purpose.

 

Sometimes she felt that she grew up in a crippled land,

The only memory she has is her runaway dad,

Nothing changed besides the date on the calendars,

Maybe it too much to ask her tears not to fall over her.

 

Syringes made her feel whole,

Feeding the hunger to be loved in her soul.

Sniffed the white powder til her white bones turn into powder and she numbs herself like this,

Accustomed to circumstance, detesting the occupant that she is.

 

She has insecurities she traps under her eyes

While she gives away her pieces of her lopsided smile.

A confidence below zero maybe that’s why she is cold when you touch her. I’m able to smell all the suicide letters she burnt on her skin and I can see all the colours in her occasional hallucinations.

 

She falls asleep to the lalaby sung by needles and dirty ashtrays.

In her dreams

She runs away from the sun as she chases the wind hoping it would lead her to all her dreams been held hostage by oblivion but soon she is captured by tiresome as she falls away into relinquishments.

Maybe some day the world will spare her and she will be enough.

 

Her life bleeds a painful type of unchanged disappointments, using the same band aid to heal the wounds beneath her flesh into a new change, but this time something magical happened…

 

Change occurred when she falls asleep cloaked in defeat and until today she has yet to awaken.

 

Flow Masengesho.