Category Archives: Uncategorized

Freedom in Chains

The movement of her waist

Swaying of her hips

Is not for your consumption

But for her own personal pleasure

Her own celebration.

 

Which will lead to her destruction

As the mentality of the mob

vies for a blood jurisdiction

 

A whore, a philanderer, a Jezebel of the highest degree

A conjurer of base lusts and desires

Causing others to realise what they’d rather hide

 

A social reject and open spectacle

She will soon be weary of those stone throws

She will soon be weary of the laughter and blurred energy

That surrounds her.

 

No home. No food. No growth.

Just opiates and products of inebriation

A source of freedom, of comfort, of safety

In a world that celebrates your rejection

 

In drunkenness she wanders tot he brothels for safety.

Mirages.

Shaped like a relative, a lover, a government social scheme

 

Her body no longer her own

A focal menagerie.

 

Alternative Facts.

Martyr Lover

Is it the diamonds between your legs that turn these men in lascivious beasts?
The cupid’s bow of your mouth giving them an insatiable feast – like manna from heaven they clamour but only at first.

Is it the freedom in your laughter that makes them seek your confinement? Your personalised Pandora’s box?

Or the care in your words and the softness of your bosom that reminds them of the mother they never had; the affection makes them run mad. They wish to martyr this mother.

Be careful beautiful sisters who are blessed with those glorious wreaths around your heads
There are men who wish to enslave you and have you make your bed among the stars

Do not let your purity of heart fool you.

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When friendships become toxic

I recently cut ties with my closest friend and I really just want to talk both about why I did it and about friendships that put a strain on your mental health and why it’s sometimes necessary to e…

Source: When friendships become toxic

Sitting Pretty

It’s like a war of the nerves

Keeping calm even when your heart is in pain

 

Creating a scenario where life feels like a game

So simple things one may gain

 

Never fully escaping the pain

But being a slave to other things before one goes insane

 

So what does one do?

They live for the fame

Unraveling the truth of their aim from society’s naked eye

 

Going from scene to scene

Creating havoc

As their soul slowly slips out from within

 

But the fame keeps them going

Seeking relief from their deathly daily submission

 

Many do not even know if their path is as wild as this

Or their view as tainted

But they are aware their key to survival is different

 

A lion and a tiger may look the same but they ultimately have different views in life; Different survival techniques

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Laughter Lines/Wrinkles

The flashing lights of your youth causes you epilepsy now

Speeding down the road in a life that you rented

 

At night

The demons and the devil’s vices find you

 

You throw your head back in laughter now

Masking the pain that overwhelms you

And the loss of your young years, to bright lights in the dark and soft thighs in your car

The sweet spreading pillars (of salt) now closed to you

 

Even if you manage to get it back again

You can’t keep up with it now

 

But what about You that chose not to live their youth at all?

Now old and alone

Seeking atonement through being a prayer mat for everyone’s ego

 

Instead of lights, you recoiled into the darkness

Ashamed of your wants and needs

But do you not know angels are servants and not saints?

Even the air you breathe is for everyone’s needs

 

Now your youth is gone , you realise love doesn’t need purity of mind

But now you are scared to revolt, lest you grow horns and go from a fake saint to the Devil incarnate.

 

Youth is always fleeting

Regret is the poison of growth

 

Flourish as you want, as you can – As much as the disabilities you would allow

 

Life did not stop at your youth

It was simply experienced.

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Bathroom Babes 2

Crush it up
Crush it up
Put that molly in some tissue
Drop a bomb or take a shot
Bitter in your mouth but nothing like the grinding that’s on the come up

Then you got a next girl tryna sober up
Thinking of a way out of her numerous emotional ruts
Washing her hands with cold water in hopes her mind will be made up
Scared of all the strangers her mind comes across
An unfamiliar tug.
Another nigga wants to try his luck
Better luck next time, she aint tryna be a mug

A babe that’s tryna catch that high
The pebbles aint enough in comparison to those stones you’re thinking of
So she tries everything on the scene
A glass table girl, what the fuck is a bit of lean
She’s tryna look at her pupils and check if this is the widest they’ve ever been

Bathroom babes with so much issues
In a club they aint ever gonna miss you
In a party they may or may not kiss you
You got that one freak that might even fuck you
But all these bathroom babies got one thing in common
And that’s that they all got their issues.

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Open Philosophy

What is it?
This demon?

Can make you twist your words
Confused and hot-tempered
Calm you like the winds
And ready your body like an animal for mating season

Yearning for more even though you never even realised you said yes?

The air of mystery producing fertility in the mind

Seeds not yet sown reaping fruit that feels divine

And yet, it could seemingly all be a lie

How can something with so many rules and regulations be stress free?
And yet I’m stimulated mentally, as if reading a whole book on philosophy
Each page intriguing me with every turn
I just hope one day it doesn’t set fire and completely burn

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A Whole New World

The difference in appreciation and representation is real
It’s never quite the same when it’s right in front of you

You think you love it
You think you can accept it
You think you understand it

But the truth is you’re just as lost as the masses
A total freeloader from the reality that is your minute idea of representation

Or maybe you were never quite attuned to it
Unstable in your reactions to reality
So you sought an escape route.
Something to hide the pain and displacement in your soul.
Something to feed your interest into
Some how hoping it would free you.

But the truth is my dear Diasporan or African
Is that the realities are different and so are the histories
It will never be one and the same

History that gives birth to present day ignorance and suffering
A reality that guarantees absolute safety despite lack of graces.

Two completely different worlds.
And it’s possible for you to be an Alien in both.

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The Repression of Colonialism

I miss the times that I never experienced

The wild bodies, gyrating to a rhythm that penetrated their hips

And possessed their souls

Dripping with sweat whilst derrières are being grasped

Unashamed of their pleasure penetrating them as a whole

Waist moving to the beat like that of a snake, yet soft and inviting like the wings of a butterfly

A mating call ancient and beyond comprehension

Asking for a blessing  from the Gods

And exalting their names as a rhythmic spirituality leads their feet to become one with the ground.

Like the clashing of worlds and meteors

Bodies meshed, bursting with the power of Universal creation

I miss the times I never had.

 

30sugarshacklarge

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Sylvia’s Basement

A basement below a fully thriving household; a crack exists to let in the light

The inhabitants of the whole street are seen and heard but are unaware of the presence that surveys them.

In this dark, dingy basement, where death is constantly in the air and ruminating in the bones of this isolated individual.

She has lost all feeling, all 5 senses and has become part of the decor

Fading away in the shadows; personality lost to the darkness.

 

The Queen of her darkness killed her. Dragged her by the hair till she was bald; beaten by demons till her skin was bruised inside and out.

 

Her unwanted or unnoticed presence to be tolerated only by her strangling thoughts

Self deprecation is her everlasting presence

 

She wonders if stepping out of this foundation will make her a whole person. Or will its existence always haunt her.

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