Tag Archives: Joy

Sacrifices

Who would have thought
Ecstasy and euphoria
Would make me forget
The ground below
Would make me forget
The cold of beautiful snow

To float in the clouds is bliss
Until one remembers they are hungry
You cannot use aether to quench your hunger

Dancing till your feet are tired?
Joyful until you complain
Of arthritis in your old age

Eating rich till your heart is satisfied
But that same pleasure
Can cause that very same heart to die

Love has a price to pay
And there are sacrifices to be made

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My Secret Fire

Sometimes I lament how cold I have become

I try to cry

But I laugh instead, as bitterness wraps itself around my spine.

 

They think I don’t feel

When the problem is, I have felt too much

 

The pain of suffering from the words of a loved one

The shame of loving someone who only sees me as a bit of fun

Or a crutch for their numerous fucking problems

 

A plain canvas that they paint as they wish

No care for who exists behind

A washed out model for a controlling designer

 

So I grew cold as their callous ways doused my fire

Slightly bitter as my light flickered

 

Growing repulsed by their presence

I sought to put myself out

 

But I couldn’t fully achieve it

As their breeze would painfully rekindle my ashes

 

A small flame would burn,

hidden behind a secret bush I had planted

 

So they did not see the flame that burnt

But instead, they would assume

They would only see the forest in the night and feel the cold breeze pinching upon their shoulders

The cold gave them a fright

They would run far into the night

Not realising that I always had light

They just didn’t have the right eyes to pass.

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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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