i am not yours to pursue,
nobody's to claim, to obsess over
you do not have the right to ignore my declination
nor to see my rejection as a challenge;
i am not a game or a puzzle
if you think my "no" is a jigsaw piece fitted in the wrong place
there for you to move and arrange
again and again
until you finally hear "yes"
then you are too much a child for my liking
too much about the conquest and not enough about the person.
my "no" will not be manipulated into a "yes",
you cannot play me into your hands

i am not a gamer, i am an artist
i will sketch thicker lines, make my "no" bolder
NO
i will add more tone, make it sterner
add more shade, allow my anger to cast shadows over your reputation
and it will not be hard to outline your true colours:
you've already revealed so many.
i don't need to paint you as a villain; you have done that much yourself
you too are an artist, in your own right...
you've smudged your lines so much, you've crossed boundaries.
your so-called love is not delicate pink―it is blood red and sticky.
your so-called affections leech the grey from my palette
and leave me seeing you in black and white.
oh, there's not much white, not much innocence
you are an all-consuming black; your desire to swallow me whole is abyssal

i will not be the reference of your portraits,
you cannot draw me in
your kind of passion disgusts me; you are not a true artist.
there'll be no soft brushes between us,
only sharp edges of craft knives
as i carve into your determination and soften that hardened clay
into something i can mould and shape,
something i can twist away from me.
six years is a long time for something to be set in stone
but i have a sledgehammer will and i refuse to feel backed into the corners
of your lustful foundations.
i do not wish to be a masterpiece in your eyes any longer.
i never asked you to admire me.
i will not be hung on your wall.

one minute i feel like i'm fine
the next, i couldn't care less if i live or die
i wonder if this is what it's like
to exist without living

my eyes are tired and
your arms are closed
i look up at the ceiling and i'm alone
it's too cold in this home

my eyes won't close 'cause i can't sleep
your arms won't open 'cause you don't care about me

i stopped looking both ways before i cross the street
you started looking at the colours in the sky
those things i used to love became the sparkles in your eyes
my reasons for living faded like sunset into night

i want to die

this is an open letter
for me to be able to say
i just don't think i can do this
anymore, because...
i just can't do this anymore

if i'm pulling away,
it's because i think i ****** up
or it's because you did
but i'm too self-loathing
to think i deserve an apology

you think you're so cool,
because you support
all the good causes
but your self-declared integrity
and morality, and importance--

it's all meaningless;
you are a ******* bully,
whether you realise it
or not,
the kind of kid that says
"i hate hypocrites,"

as you preach about trust
whilst lying
through your razor-sharp teeth;
you tear through others
like slabs of meat,
a ruthless carnivore
indulging on others' self-esteem

i can't do this anymore,
can't pretend your words
are water off my back,
**** it
if i wanted a shower
i'd go to the bathroom,

i don't need a shower
i'm already clean,
but you?
you're filthy, you disgust me
but i love you anyway
and that's why i can't do this

i'm sick of loving what makes me ill
so i'm not gonna talk,
not gonna listen,
not gonna offer myself up
for you to dig your knife and fork in.
i'm done with this.

"For a moment,"
Said their lips,
Warm, but fleeting

"It's okay,"
Said the rain,
Falling again

"I missed you,"
Said your bed,
Empty and tired

"Not today,"
Said the night,
Long and dull

"Maybe next time,"
Said the morning,
Sleepy and still

"Just wait,"
Said the week,
Dragging on

"Just breathe,"
Said the sidewalk,
Every day

"You're fine,"
Said the wind,
Colder than them

"I need you,"
Said your heart,
Resigned and dry

"..."
Said your lips,
Silent.

you blew a hole
through my fragile skull
and planted dandelions to grow
inside of the soil
you poured
into it

make a wish before they're gone
*make a wish, baby, make a wish

Soury water flow
Ceaseless tears last till death days
I die a millionth living years
Lesion of wound reddish show

I am a victim of war relic
Can't you see, my burnt house
My pair of rag clothe
My battered ink of ignorance

Queuing for a feed
Begging for a drink
**** in a homeless bridge
Conscripted as a child soldier

Can't you see, I am the war relic ?
Voice of refugees status I am
Rebel to my homeland I run
Deprived by mortal quest for power

Politics of hatred wash me to bank of ocean
Can't you see I have one arm, one eye, one embroidery parts
Can't you see am a victim of power mongers
I have foolishly support their quest

I have shouted for the nuke to be test
Justifying their foolish context
they ran away to have a succor of rest
When the war bullet penetrate the wall

I am decorated as a zeroed hero
Holding crutches leaping like a dog
So bad I am abandoned in a refugee camp
Can't you see I am the worst victim of war with relatives buried and burned
with fire of sand and the gods watch without intervention

by
Martin Ijir

she sits propped up against the wall,
sleek curves and long necked
elegant and beautiful,
and she's my first love,
and I'll love her 'til I die
of this I'm certain,
because she's the sparkle in my eye
I cradle her in my arms,
let my fingers coax her sounds
music to my ears, love songs
and nostalgia of the years
she's my first love,
and I'll love her 'til I die
of this I'm certain
because she's the sparkle in my eye
I cradle her in my arms,
and I've never loved another more
I'll always hold her close to me,
my angel, my guitar