Hard-hitting;

Slowly it courses through me,

Burning, bit by bit;

Heightening feelings, numbing inhibitions.

Light headed, heavy hearted, I sway;

Every step unsure.

Blurred thoughts, tunneled vision.

It helps, escaping.

For just a few hours maybe.

Escaping,

The neverending chaos that life presents,

My current reality.

Helps forgetting,

Emotions I cannot comprehend,

A world so baffling.

A few (many) shots of neat green apple *****.

Love is a foreign thing for me. It is a language that I am yet to hear and learn but I know that once I get my hands on its words, I will write about your face.

I woke up today with a smile that is triggered by the memory of your smile and hands that drops everything because all it yearns to touch is your skin. Every food becomes unappetizing because I've developed a stomach that rejects edible things and it only wants to be filled by the butterflies that you bring. And last time I wrote, I wrote about wishing my words and lines were aligned but suddenly, I don't know how it may be, but I feel enough. And that is a foreign thing for me.

Love promised to grab me by the hand and travel to France where it will ask me out to dance. It promised to fill my soul with Italy's chaotic tranquility. It promised to fill my mind with Greece's ease. It promised to love me in Germany tirelessly. And it promised to take me to Spain and take away every bit of my pain.

Love may be a foreign thing for me but I feel like I've known your soul since forever.

broke her heart did he
there was no time to think
was it her fault thought she
a glass of ***** was her drink
was it the glass that he forebid
or the slip of her tongue and sadden face
for told a huge lie is what she did
her heart in her ears poundin at a fast pace
tears ran down her cheeks from her eyes
she dare not look at him any more
for it was him that she despize
that's what she was drinking for

you look like the aftermath of smudged letters and blurry words
after your tears are done smearing the ink into illegible cryptics
and after the ink is done twisting itself into something ugly.
you look like the tally marks on your wrist
after you've hidden them behind long sleeves
and they still bleed.
you look like you've been wearing an mask for far too long
and after you refused to let the sunlight in,
fed the flowers in your eyes too many salty tears,
they started to wilt—
dandelions, roses, tulips, lilies, forget-me-nots—
you just let them all die.
you look like you given up, closed down
tucked whatever was left of your flower bed somewhere dark
so you could pluck their wilting petals, watch them deteriorate.
you look like too many empty bottles
after you've lost yourself
and after the ***** is strong enough to wash away you
and bring something else.
you look familiar—like I've seen you before—
though you're not you.
you look like a vague face,
someone else and I know that person.
you look like that person
you look like her
you look like *me

10 | 31 Poems for August 2016

Love me like you promised me you would.
Love me like I still know you can and I still know you can.
For the first time in a long time, I feel a whole lot of love here.
So love, please don’t walk away or decide to disappear from me.
I’m banking on you to not withdraw from the love we have both invested in.
Because the truth is my heart says that you’re the one, my heart is really growing fond of you.
Love, I used to think that I was bad at this beautiful thing people call love.
But I realised that the problem wasn’t the intensity of my affection but rather the quality of people I chose.
Like a rose, from the concrete I rose and I want you to witness my bloom.
You’ve made me question if all the women I have been with before were really worthy of my love, time and effort.
Love me unconditionally, across beautiful South African cities, over the world’s skyscrapers and beyond the depths of time.
I admire how you have loved me this intensely despite how devastating your previous heartbreak was.
Don’t walk away from me because no amount of ***** or morphine will ease the pain.
Let’s escape from reality with our lips locked to a place far away from the stares of prying strangers.
Please don’t walk away or decide to disappear from me not after you promised that you would love me.
Love me wholeheartedly, across beautiful South African cities, over the world’s skyscrapers and beyond the depths of time.
Love me like I still know you can, love me like you promised me you would.

Your words were like *****,
They
Nummed my pain.
Your touch was like Xanax,
It
Calmed my aching soul.
I swallowed my Xanax
Took my shot of *****
I was becoming addicted
Addicted to you

First shot of *****
You are not here.
Second shot of *****
I forget about you.
Third shot of ******
I **** someone new.


-- Eleanor