You kissed me and I
loved you. In a way that was real enough.
You needed your
heart repairing.
You held me and I
stitched the fragments back together.
You wanted peace and
quiet
You expressed your
wishes and I let you fall asleep on my thighs.
You had headaches
and they stunned you each time.
You spoke of head
massages and I massaged your mind.
You attempted to
drown yourself.
I raced over and pulled you out of death. I performed first-aid and you choked, between your tears. We sat in silence, until your mind was here and not down there.
If you’re a rapper, I would like to interview you! (About rap music and its influence on our lives!) #SlideIntoMyDMs 🎧 for more info! (Interviews will be confirmed at a later date)
RapMusic
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Friendships: I learnt that I don’t need years upon years to call someone a friend. I’ve met some fantastic people this year, and I’m happy that they’re in my life.
Discussions: In 2020, I won’t be discussing the following aspects of my life – love, finances and challenges. I found through talking about such topics, it led to people watering down things and entwining their opinions with that they feel should be my actions.
Advice: This links into the above a little, I won’t be taking any advice on the above. This year, I’ve asked for advice, and it’s all been nonsense. I’ve no time for it.
Creativity: This year, I have tapped into a part of my creativity that has allowed me to produce some amazing pieces. (I’m eternally thankful.) I’ve been writing more and I’m both proud and astonished at the short-stories I have created. Some have taken me months to tease out of my mind and translate onto paper.
Reflection: I have a period of reflection every single day. I think about what goals I have completed and plan for the next day. It helps me to relax, as an introvert, I need to use a lot of mental energy, so reflective thinking is beautiful.
Although 2019 will be over in a few hours, I’m not running away from it. I accept it has been a turbulent year for me and with turbulence comes lessons learnt. I’m taking this knowledge into 2020 and building upon it.
Resolutions?
I don’t make resolutions, as goals I set, I start them the day I set them. No point in waiting for New Year’s Eve, life is never guaranteed.
Thank you all for following me on my creative journey, I shall try to post more frequently and read more. I truly appreciate your continuous support.
If not for the endless drivel of replayed news and images with no progress. Then most certainly the shit you text me after hours.
You bring nothing new to the table.
You speak about the same things – which would be fine if the conversation weren’t the exact same! It’s like time has frozen and you only know of the same things.
No growth!
I tire of the alerts on my phone that you need me. When I check it’s the same, I already know before I read anything from you.
‘Hey, Hun, hows u? xx’
‘Nah! I’ve got da flu.’
‘Wanna meet for lunch?’
They all start the same, once I reply you complain…
‘I never hear from her. Bitch! We were fucking best friends.’
‘We should meet for lunch.’
‘You, know so and so are still crap!’
Nothing new in your life.
No changes!
But you still complain about your life, how nothing goes right. Right?
Why I Don’t Fuck with You
I’m a person that grows continuously and shall beyond my time. You live in 2014 and remain chained to 2009. I can’t invest time into rubbish.
So, it shall remain here in 2019
Right here.
I’ve no time for those that replay the songs of idol gossip, or the movies of repeat actions, expecting new results.
Yes, you read that right the first time.
I’ve no time for those that replay the songs of idol gossip, or the movies of repeat actions, expecting new results.
You play credits to 2009 all the time. Because that’s all the time, you think about. You eat pork chops and mash, but ‘act’ shocked when the scales confirm that your weight has increased.
Lunch is always pending…
You speak of it, but it never comes into existence.
You’re always overspending, but that’s okay – as others repeat stupid actions by lending you money. You never learn. Well, you refine ‘the art of entitlement.’
Apologies!
I forgot to note your frequent comments, ‘I’m not going back to work, the government owes me money.’ To all those that are on a continuous spiral of nothingness, walking down the spiralling stairwell of nothingness. ‘Enjoy.’
Why I Don’t Fuck with You?
One day I realised that our ships are unequal. You take, take, take. I give, stop and then give more. You beg, beg, beg, and I ponder over what our minds think about one another…
You talk, and the output is stagnant like the plastic that remains at the bottom of our waters. I speak and bend the narrative, only you sway and revert to repetition. Then I’m trapped!
You are YOU, and at one point in my life, I enjoyed the stale attributes of repeated discussions. I enjoyed bitching about so and so and droning on about shit I never did anything to alter.
It’s 2019 as I type this, Christmas Eve to be exact 05:20 to add better vision.
Amid the midst of it all, I really want to relax and indulge in the warmth of plant-based kisses. Maybe, near a bed of pink roses and ‘Fuck off!’
‘No, you fuck off.’
‘Don’t talk to me, bitch.’
‘Your mom.’
When we paint pictures, they expect them to be pretty. I simply do not give a flying fuck, crawling fuck or a fuck that swims beneath you and bites your leg off.
‘Go fuck yourself!’
I only want to paint the darkness that bleeds out from your lips. What did you say again? Speak up, speak louder! I want your words to drown out the prettiness. Could you slow down and listen to the brush as I paint over your profundities of deplorable actions.
‘For fuck’s sake.’
The sound of your voice is drowned out by the coolness of the water, and the darkness of blood. Squeak no more, squeak no less, rats aren’t the best at swimming.
‘You mother-fucking son of a bitch!’
No worries, we’ve got this. You’re being recorded by many – one hash-tagged your swimsuit as looking cheap and tiresome. But go you.
I want to paint your lips red and then press my lips onto yours, rub my lips into your and blow red kisses. The flow down to the bed of the ocean, where the remains of words past are sprinkled with treasures.
Shells of life once inhabited before – Shells of a soul that once wondered the sands above.
‘Fuck you, fuck your soul, fuck your bones and fuck your words. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.
I once painted a pretty picture, it had bunnies hopping, birds singing, puppies playing and sweeties raining. Oh! How delightful it is, it was. I poured petrol all over it and set it alight. A lie, your lies, up in flames.
Under the glow of the full moon, we see the scope. You’re viral and vermin. The rats welcome you back in glory.
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