True self

Your longings

attached to a thespian smile

captivates a wandering soul

tho’ it’ll take you a while longer

to remember how to breath again.

these nimble feeling in your bowels

is rumbling, swelling up, bursting out

your spirit is an unrestrained beast

recycling the dreams you’ll dream again

like a sillouette in the dead of the night

you slip into a formless, void space

thoughts dance up your crooked spine

nothing that doesn’t want to can be obviated

Sometimes peace screams through silence

sometimes silence is the peace

truth lays beyond the borders

of this consciousness and an astral plane

Then comes a glimpse of epiphany

We are but spirits in human drag

Nothing we see is real as it seems.

We fight everyday

to find diamond reflecting in darkness

Within self

Outside self

But in reality

There exist  truth within  truth

Who am I?

“I think; therefore I am”—René Descartes

 

Who am I?

who sees when I see?

 

who hears when I hear?

who knows when I’m aware?

 

Who am I?

who watches my dreams when I am dreaming?

 

Who feels love when I feel love?

whose hair turns white when I’m gripped by fear?

 

Who are you?

whose shadow are you living behind?

 

Are you your father’s child?

are you a workaholic or alcoholic?

 

Are you still donning the frock  of guilt and despair?

are you still afraid of who you are?

 

 

 

 

sources;

Ramana Maharshi

the untethered soul—Micheal sing

 

Unresolved

 

We don’t have to brave a fight to heal

Tomorrow is a new day

but today is war

we bear the heat of uncompromising terror,

press play on life

set actions into motion

our lovers become foes

Happiness is subjective

balance is trivialized

Darkness leads to a fathomless abyss of  bliss,

or disillusion

Man in his feral state concludes;

Content is happiness.

 

Scary isn’t it?

 

The unforgiving nights,

when fog rises up the hill

Our faces, whitewashed

marred by the satirical tides we are yet to discover

but must confide in.

Hence, we sip nectars of laudanum

through straws of addiction

the urn feeds attachments

we hope will never run out

 

 

we’re seated in a row

unchaste in our demeanor

half boisterous; half nonchalant

on the bus to what is an unknown change;

or to change the unknown

a sign that reads,”divergent only.”

on its bumper

Our mutual feelings, unresolved

Control.

When there’s no easier way of letting go

because the truth is only worth denying once.

 

 

Alien

What would it feel like
if I stand on the edge
If I happen to be in close proximity to it,
then what?

what if I could walk
maybe I am lighter than oxygen
or maybe I’d get a concussion
either way, I have to know.

but baby girl, you don’t float.
beyond sea level,
everything must tumble

Gravity.

Round and round
it’s all fun and games
once, forgotten
twice, twirling

Stop.

My hands look strange,
like tentacles
attached to an alien being.

I wonder,
what is the single greatest distraction
from self-love.

 

End of The Tunnel

 

Above all, trust yourself.

 

Defeated. I sat on the cold ground in the dark, feeling nothing but the wisp of air blowing through the tunnel, it distinctly sounded like a fiddle playing. I wasn’t scared at all, just fatigued like I was throwing punches at something that wasn’t feasible. I must have folded my fists and coaxed myself with “just do it”  a thousand times, but each time I end up uniting my buttcheeks to the dirt beneath me. I even dozed off and at some point and created several hypothetical scenarios of the many ways this could go and when I woke up, I allowed myself to linger on the thought of fighting till my hands were in shackles and my eyes, gouged out.

 

Slowly, I rose to my quivering feet and each step became a little easier. A winged buddy sidled next to me and split into a handful, and then some. Honestly, I was glad to have any manner of companionship and from intuition, I knew they were happy to see me too.

This time,  I wasn’t looking at the walls, my focus was straight ahead as I marched on. After a while,  I noticed that my butterflies weren’t flying ahead as they usually were. Perhaps something was blocking me but I had no way of confirming this, I couldn’t see that far. The winged creatures stayed close to my peripheral vision.

I was perplexed, something was out there as sure as I could instantly feel the doubt overwhelming me and soon I could make out a silhouette, not a tall one. I got nearer. It was in black overalls, it’s back towards me, it assumed a bent posture as if the world was weighing down on it—– or kyphoscoliosis. I stopped behind it.

uhmm” I muttered, quite unsure, “can I pass? what are you doing here?”

I hear a soft moan, I knew then that it was female.

“do you want to pass?

I nodded

“So why don’t you?”

“Because… ” I quickly retracted my reply. Something told me she already why. She turned, her chest towards me now.

“Because you fear being followed in the dark”.

“Who are you?”, Her face was like a shadow. I couldn’t make out anything but her brows and eyes.

“We used to be best friends,”  she sighed ” but you abandoned me, like you do with everyone”

“I still keep in touch”.

“right, keep telling yourself that,” she chided, “you’re here because you unlocked a memory, you let your mind wander too far.. and now you can’t get back.”

Her tone became aggressive, her eyes glowered.

“You think life is just gonna give you stuff because you say pretty please? you’re nothing.”

“that’s not true”

“You think that by completing this grandiose quest of yours, you’re worth something,” her voice waned to a whisper, “well I’m telling you, you’re always going to be the empty person on those walls”.

No no no no, my mind was shattering.

She let out a derisive laugh, “you know most people whose mind wander off like yours have two things to ground them. An inflated self-esteem and a support system. You have neither, Idara, you’re pathetic”. Her laugh grew more hysterical.

“NO!,”  I finally heard my enraged-self say, “I know exactly who you are and while I may not have friends, I trust myself no matter what you or anyone thinks”.

Those words seem to act like twenty upper-cuts to her torso because I could immediately see her weaken and fall. I, on the other hand, have never been more assured of my senses.

“You hear me? I trust myself”.

She let out a deafening shrill and exploded into several pieces before my eyes, leaving behind ashy feathers. I allowed myself a moment to process what just transpired before hobbling on, careful not to step on the “evil” feathers. I started wondering if there would be more tests as I could only deal with so much but right about then, I saw it. Light. Real actual light, not the illumination from the butterflies, I was ecstatic.

I  ran the last few meters. I felt great, like a detox after a bad hangover, like purity and golden sunshine rolled into one. The butterflies were disappearing and this time, for good reason. The air felt great compared to the muffling metallic scent, although, I don’t know how long I was in there……”Hey,”

It was him.

I’ve been searching all night for you, where have you been?”

I glared behind to find everything but a tunnel.

“Needed a walk to clear my head”.

“I was worried, found your phone and house keys. Some folks say it fell out your pocket and they were trying to return it to you but you were…… nevermind, how are you?

“A bit tired”.

“C’mon, I’ll take you home, catch some snooze before day-break”.

I took his extended arm and he cradled me like a toddler but I wiggled my way to his back because piggy-backs are better. We walked off into the distance, out of the park, speaking audibly.

“You know I didn’t mean to upset you when I said I trusted you”

“I know Viktor.”

 

 

image source: darkbeautymag.tumblr.com

 

 

 

 

 

The tunnel

 

We thought we could escape our troubles. We thought if we climbed the ladder fast enough, no one would stop us.

 

Across the bed from him, I sat.

“I like you, I really do.”

He blushed, licked his lips and placed a palm on my thigh. I liked that. I shut my eyes and allowed myself to dwell on this simple pleasure. His hands lingered from my thighs up to my waist before grazing my cheeks. I opened my eyes to meet his pearly hazel ones. It was the first time I permitted myself to look so closely into someone’s eyes. It was intriguing to see them dilate. He parted his lips and I listened to the words that fumbled out….

A Volcano erupted in my heart. My being was shaking; like an earthquake, like an explosion went off in my head. My ears could bleed, my voice was gone, My lips were quivering from the horror when he said, “I trust you”.

I jumped up, and for a second or five, I was patting myself as if searching for something. His face grew worrisome and he constantly asked me what was wrong.

“I have to get out of here”

“Where to? this is your house”.

“Nowhere,” I replied, “Just need a walk.”

I sprinted out the room into the night. My legs were moving, one after the next. The people I walked past were staring at me, as if in shock or sheer curiosity. Maybe I have something on my face but I’m acting as normal as I possibly can. My mind is a war zone, the more I try to focus, the more nothing seems to make sense. All I see is a tunnel of darkness that I’ve never been brave enough to walk through to the other side. But now, it beckons me and right there in the park, I could make something out of the rusty air. A tunnel.

“Idara,” I heard a voice call from within the tunnel. It sounded like a child with a thick accent, Western African perhaps, “come”.

“Why” I muttered hesitantly

“Because you will never be able to face your truth if you don’t”.

I heard the fluttering of wings, and seconds later a butterfly was in front of me, so close it could perch on my nose. In a blink of an eye, it’s wings would change from violet polka dot to black with white streaks then to brown and white with blue streaks then again, and again, each time, a unique blend of colors. I was too mesmerized that I almost didn’t notice that now there were two of them, and in a millisecond five, then twelve and they just kept multiplying. They formed a line before me and begun flying into the tunnel. I pushed some air down my lungs, took a step and then another and I was inside the tunnel.

My mind was simmering with thoughts and they were chaotic but with the light from the butterflies illuminating my path, I felt less anxious. I noticed the walls had phrases and sentences inscribed on it and there was a sense of familiarity I had when I read them, I remember them because I lived them.

At the tunnel entrance, I read:   “you were always there for me.’ I recall smiling when I wrote that. I recall feeling lonely afterward.

“when I count my friends, I count 1 person 10 times”.  I know who that was for, it came from a sincere place.

the next one read; “you’re the bitchiest bitch out there, but you’re also the only person that piggybacks me home when I’m drunk”. Actually now I just think she’s a bitch.

The farther I got into the tunnel, the more cynical the phrases were. “This may probably be the last time you see me, I’m not going anywhere but I can’t promise I won’t wander off.”

The other read: “I can’t stand the pain, it makes me cry. I want people to care, I want things to work out”.

At this point, I noticed that the butterflies were reducing, disappearing. I was feeling unsure again, anxious. In an attempt to forge on, I staggered through the never-ending corridor with my resilient companions.

The next I saw went thus; “it’s not in my nature to express myself so wouldn’t it be weird, stupid to people if I started expressing myself? wouldn’t it seem like I was impersonating someone I’m not?” 

I sidled on like a lummox drunk in a grave-yard, I refused to look at the walls any further. I tried focusing on making it to the end, but my mind wouldn’t stop buzzing and I kept on wishing I was out of there, I’ve never been more restless.

My gaze settled on one final inscription on the wall and I couldn’t help but read it through; “so once again I was alone staring at the walls as it were empty like my soul.”

I stopped. Thrusting my back against the wall, I read the phrase again as I slowly sank to the ground. The lights fluttered around me urging me to rise to my feet. I couldn’t move, I’d lost all my strength.

“I was alone…the walls…empty like my soul, alone…walls..empty, empty….

The butterflies wouldn’t stop but I ignored them whilst they continued to vanish.

“Get up,” the voice was back. “Come Idara”

“I can’t,” I yelled, my voice resounded through the walls. I watched the butterflies fade until the last resilient wings were flapping right before my nose. Its light began to flicker and went dim until it was gone. Everything went silent and cold. No insects. No buzzing. No light. Just me alone in the dark tunnel.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “I can’t”

 

Empty

I am so regular, I sleep at 7.30 pm every evening and not a minute later. I never miss my pre-scheduled siestas.

I text all my friends in the morning to ask how they slept, and every night to remind them to rest easy. In fact, a week hardly ever passes by without me seeing them. I call home every other day.

I never forget to treat myself to delicious snacks all through the day.

I wear this dress that accentuates my curves and ends 2/3rd of my ankles and a burgundy on my lips to match. I flip my voluminous hair back every half an hour because I’m going out on a date today, can’t wait, he’s perfect in everywhere.

“Nice dress,” he says

I look down at my clammy hands and manage a vague smile

“I only wear red when I’m indifferent”

“You always wear red,” he points out

My quivering lips broadened into a grin.

“It  must desaturate you to always wear a mask that reflects only what every other person wants to see”

I looked down to my glazed glass, watching my merlot swivel back and forth due to the wind drifting towards us

“You know,” I managed, “Just living”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Listen

Listen

that is the shattering

of a tempest soul

when it broke,

I realised

that these wall around me

is not distance,

they are covert shields

encasing me.

 

 

Although now,

I see I made an erroneous conclusion.

The guardian became the prisoner.

I banged my fist,

vér trickled down my elbow.

my shield now my prison.

 

My heart rebleeds

and I tremble.

Not in fear, but anguish.

This bitter taste I cannot

bear to gobble down.

 

I’ve lost touch with

the world.

Buoyed on an endless river

of silence and nothingness.

 

Existing,

only to serve my desires.

Listening,

only to the sound of the sweeping air.

I’ve tried to claw my way

through dirt and mire

to survive the way I think

I once remembered

but maybe  it is

a memory

surmised

by me.

 

Raindrops on this crusted mineral.

Earth

beneath my feet.

If I scream now,

no one will hear

If I scream now,

no words will come out

So I curled up in a dome

my only companion,

the muffled wisps of my breath

Listen,

can you hear it?

 

 

 

 

Understanding Psychosis

Shut the doors behind you

what I’m about to say,  no one else can hear.

These are not my memories, it is just my subconscious

showing me the deep and twisted projections

I fear, yet hold onto.

The farther it is in time, the less I seem to recall the darkness,

that all too familiar darkness.

However, that doesn’t affect me,

it is the drowning fear that creeps in with it that does.

 

 

I was suddenly in a place that smelled strange, a large hall with concrete walls and high ceiling, tho, I didn’t feel safe.

I could recall the girl’s face, Tina—that was her name.

We sprinted through the endless corridors, past the serpentine marble columns, 300m past the cooling room.I stopped! huffing hard with both hands on my knees.

Tina was breathing heavily too.I reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders.

” Where are the rooms?”

“You don’t know? silence,  “Alex, are you ok? 100m eastbound. ”

so we continued into the room. I locked the doors.

Tina spun around, “what are you doing?

“we need to be safe” I retorted

“From who?” no words.

She started for the door, “this isn’t my room”,  then paused

“Alex, I dunno what happened today”, fixing her gaze on mine, she continued, “are you ok?”

“what is it with you and that question?”

“I”m heading to my room” she grabbed the door handle

“Be safe,” I whispered

“This whole place is safe, just get some sleep,” the door slammed behind her.

********

 

For the first time since we got in, I carefully observed the room around me, the windows were slightly opened, a beaded curtain draped from above the windowpane, shimmering in the night light, a floor lamp divided the room into two halves but the most intriguing was a painting, it was a child’s face, eyes rotated upwards with parted lips, in the middle of his forehead, he had a unicorn’s horn and  bright rainbow illuminated around him. At the bottom right corner of the frame was inscribed: “fuck your psychedelic”, signed Alexander.

I stood there, mesmerized by the painting, having no recollection of when I made it. I didn’t hear the door close behind me

“What’s the problem, Alex?” I jumped when I heard the voice and turned swiftly

I jumped when I heard the voice and turned swiftly,”who are you?’

“Your roommate, Bianca”, she grinned.

I noticed she had green eyes which sent chills running down my spines

” who are you, really? ” I demanded again and I heard a loud thumping noise resonate through my ear canal

“you should go to sleep now”  was the last thing that echoed

*******

who am I? where am I? is this real?

A buzzing noise filled the air and I came to realize that I was sitting on a bench in the courtyard. Beside me was Christopher, my occasional buddy chattering away on a conversation I may or may not have instigated. My head was rocking side to side.The sun-dial was pointing south, which meant it was 4 pm.

I stopped moving when I heard a slow crackling sound.I  stood up, blinking severally, I began to walk, following the direction of the sound to a room known simply as ‘the ephylis”. A sphynx cat lay on its hind leg in the center of the room, it’s body stretched out across the room with its rump towards me. I tip-toed into the room, as slow as I could until it’s full body was within my field of vision. It had green eyes. Sweat was beading across my forehead and my breaths had become heavier and rapid.

“What are you doing?”

I lifted my head up to see Christopher standing at the doorway and when I returned my gaze to the center of the room, the sphynx cat was gone.

I sighed, ” somehow, I feel I may be drifting between reality and an alternative dream land”

“Can’t you tell what’s real and what’s not?”

“Can you?”

 

My Ugly Notebook

This is where I scribble my fascinations.

I go to it when I’m terrified,

and when I need to confess my truest desires.

It rescues me when I fall,

yet plunges me into lucid hazes

I so fondly wish to not wake up from.

It holds onto my hand while coaxing me

to look into the eyes of terror until it quivers like a smitten kitten

and succumbs to my will.

 

It’s lustrous red cover seals words inked in secrecy,

and bound in confidentiality.

It deciphers my lingo

It understands my agony

My ugly notebook is what keeps me warm on midsummer’s night

and hugs me dearly so I feel my heart palpate through its pages.

Within it, I could procrastinate forever.

I can confide in the unrefined calligraphy

signed by your’s truly.

 

 

My ugly notebook is the expression of myself

as an entity, bold. Unfazed

It nurtures my zeal and unburdens my spirit

so that I am light,

resting in the comfort of my words,

indulging in quests I wouldn’t normally

yield to with my eyes open.

 

 

This is home. It is  disorderly and messy,

but it is home.

Once in a while,

I find inspiration in these pages

and even more, I find healing.

The things I may never be able to say,

I find zenitude.

 

My ugly notebook is my fortress of hope in the midst of shadow chasers

It calms my turmoil soul when songs of sorrows escape into the wind,

keeping me engaged in profound chatter

so that I may not think of the dangers I struggle to overcome

in Amphetamine city.

As I plunge into the deep blues to confront my reflection.

It adjusts my gaze to the sunset on Chloé

causing fire & blood to blend into a rare hue of indigo

in order to kill the beast that is the banshee.

 

 

My ugly notebook is Alexander.