23 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I thought that I’d find closure after writing poetry about you.
But every time I finish writing, I find new ways of missing you.
I’ll try calling you or you could hit me up on Facebook or Twitter.
I cannot stand these people when they are all cold and bitter.
You should know that I’m done chasing trouble and heartbreak.
Got detours and delays, I’m still trying to rectify my previous mistake.
I could’ve handled it better, but right now the past does not really matter.
You settled for a takeaway when you could’ve had the world on a silver platter.
So, let's just keep ignoring each other, and pretend that each of us does not exist because ignorance is bliss.
Do not call me when you can text me, matter of fact, don’t ever call me again.
You only remember me and the intensity of my love and affection whenever you are feeling lonely.

22 | 31 Poems for August 2017

Some nights are the hardest but this bottle of wine flows better than my favourite rapper.
So, the heartache gradually dissipates with every glass taken and the smile on my face inevitably grabs the attention of a stranger.
Some nights it feels like my days are numbered like a calendar, like the pages of my favourite book.
But the problem about this story is that there is no ******, the protagonist dies in the middle of the story.
It’s funny how the moments when I was almost left for dead are the moments when I felt most alive.
I had given up on finding happiness and love before you walked into my life.
From a distant stranger to an unforgettable muse all the way through to sharing a glass of wine with you.
When nothing else in the world makes sense somehow you always do.
Some nights are the hardest but this bottle of wine flows better than my favourite rapper so pour me another glass.
Pour me another glass because time spent in your presence is always filled with happiness, love and laughter.
Some nights are the hardest but this bottle of wine flows better than anything you ever thought it would.

21 | 31 Poems for August 2017

We have both grown up and in that process, we grew apart.
You weren’t emotionally prepared when I said that I love you.
You dismissed my feelings so cold and quickly, I questioned whether you were planning to stay.
In hindsight, it’s obvious that you were destined to leave, what were your plans anyway?
I’ve been writing melancholic poetry and hoarding unforgettable memories.
I question everyone that does not pledge their allegiance to love and loyalty.
I have been reminiscing about the past and all the time that we wasted.
Music that I listen to reminds me of something distant that we used to be.
I should have given you every single part of me when I still had the chance.
I finally understand that it’s too late for me to be apologising for my mistakes.
Apart from attempting to become lovers, we were good friends and now we don’t talk anymore.
It’s such a shame, not even a simple hello could ever suffice, now tell me who’s to blame?
Is it me for becoming emotionally distant or you for giving up too easily on something worth fighting for?
I’ve been looking at your pictures since you left and I can’t seem to delete them from my phone.
When you dismissed my feelings for you, I questioned whether you were planning to stay.
In hindsight, it’s obvious that you were destined to leave, what were your intentions anyway?
We’ve become strangers with memories, it’s obvious that you will never love me like you used to.

20 | 31 Poems for August 2017

You are what I never thought you were and became what I never thought you’d be.
You’ve cheated on every test that love gave you but somehow, I forgave you.
I stopped trying to mend a broken person the day I realised that I was one.
My hands smell like petroleum from all the bridges that I’ve been burning.
I have humbly grown from every word and poem I wrote back when you and I hardly spoke.
This love is a battlefield and it was foolish of me to be losing limbs for someone who wouldn’t go to war for me.
Getting played like a grand piano did not guarantee me the chance of listening to symphonies.
I gave you exclusive views to breathtaking galaxies, but somehow you still needed more space.
If writing about you ever drives me crazy then make sure that my straitjacket comes in blue.
I’ve been experiencing Sunday blues and I haven’t seen much of you, so tell me now, where are you?

19 | 31 Poems for August 2017

I can never make you love me no matter what I say or do.
Disappointments seem to be the foundation of my progress.
I’m gradually beginning to realise that success is a slow process.
I dislike how you tend to forget about me during some nights when you’re drinking wine.
I gave you honesty and honestly speaking, going back-and-forth with you is exhausting me.
Over the years, our friendship has been tainted by rumours that everyone knows except for us.
There may have been some chemistry between us that we both chose to blatantly ignore.
I wrote many of my poems in Braille for the kind of love I was desperately longing to feel from you.
I’m still falling for you, and my words are revealing so that’s why you’ll know that this poem is about you.
I find it hard walking away from a woman whose arms I have always wanted to run into.
What should I do now with the love that I have always wanted to give to you?
All I’m asking for is you, and I can’t bear the thought of someone else being next to you.
I’m jealous and I know that I will probably be the last one to ever admit it.
I’m a lover without a lover but never loveless, so what am I supposed to do?

18 | 31 Poems for August 2017

Love is not a mystery; it’s every beautiful thing that I ever wanted it to be.
Love is the colour of you, love is beautiful with all its flaws and complexities.
I’ve been enslaved by my own emotions and you were always there to liberate me and provide devotion.
Love is when I still write about you in hopes that one day you’ll read all these words and hopefully find your way back to me.
Love looks like her in the evening after a long day when all she wants is a warm bath and peaceful sleep.
Could I ever be blessed with the chance of having my heart beating inside her chest again?
I still want to read all the love letters her lips and hands are yet to write so effortlessly on my skin.
I’ve cried myself to sleep on days when the world was dancing to the rhythm of my heartbeat.
Love has always taught me that I cannot continue loving you from a distance.
Home is where the heart is and I never for a second wanted you to leave.
You still have my heart beating in rhythms that are foreign to my existence.
Is it better spending all this time apart while admiring each other from a distance?
Love is praying every single night to God and hoping that He sends you back into these loving arms.
Love looks like her in the morning when she wakes up looking all beautiful and carefree – you’d swear she had eight hours of sleep.
I’ve been enslaved by my own emotions and with love I have conquered everything that the world said I would not.
Love is hoping that you find happiness and love is also having you sharing that happiness with me.
Love is not a mystery; it’s every beautiful thing that I ever wanted it to be.

17 | 31 Poems for August 2017

Let me whisper those sweet words that held together the shattering glass you think you’ve become.
I know that through their utterance you will finally feel your heart beating to the rhythm of our love.
I want our long late-night conversations and phone calls to come to life again.
Because I miss hearing your voice on Wednesday afternoons and the joy in your sporadic bursts of laughter.
Sometimes you feel as if you’re running away from the constant pang of unworthiness that your heartbeat has become.
The world has made you feel like an abandoned church, but in my eyes, you’ll always be a cathedral.
I just wish you’d stop running away from the fear of finding something so genuine and just run into my arms.
I want the chance to breathe love down your spine; I want to be with you until the love runs out.
In a world ravaged by cold wars, our love and happiness is what we should be constantly fighting for.
Life will bend and stretch the both of us into painful shapes, but I know that we will eventually be okay.
During cold winter nights and warm summer mornings, I long to have the presence of your body next to me.
I know that we didn’t come this far, to only come this far.