Déjà Vu Break-ups
They broke up,
She and Him.
They say he hurt her,
Although
No one knows.
They say he broke her.
Her too good
and
too innocent
heart.
They say her heart shattered on the floor,
like a vase that was dropped from quite the height.
They say she cried and sobbed,
Make-up smeared down her porcelain cheeks.
They say they cursed one another
as sailors' curse when the wind strengthens the waves.
They say she ran off,
Ran away,
from all the pain
and all that heart break,
to a boy who sat under a tree,
waiting for his princess to come.
And then, there she was.
Crying and sobbing,
Make-up smeared on her too-beautiful face,
As she told me what happened.
and I stood up
and I pulled her in,
arms wrapping around her shuddering body
as she gasped and cried,
and cradled her
close,
very close,
and whispered by her ear,
''It's okay...
It will all be okay,''
But as I said those words,
I realized,
Were those words meant to be reassurance
to
her?
Or
for myself?
Because little did I know,
That this beautiful,
heart-broken,
girl
was most likely going to leave me
the second he said
''I'm sorry,''
Lying to her all too beautiful face,
making her heart melt,
and her mouth turn into a smile.
Forgetting me,
the boy,
or prince,
who waited patiently for his princess,
under a tree,
who helped her through
a difficult time.
And little did I know,
that this would be 'déjà vu',
as he would break her
heart,
her all too innocent heart,
for another time more,
and there she would be,
crying and sobbing,
waiting for me,
who will do this time and time again,
for my princess,
although her heart may be blind,
although her love may be blind.
16.6.2020
we’re done, you cheated, i’m (attempting) to move on
you're already-
checked out.
were a long time ago. & i don't
know why you stayed, if there's
more pain than loving most days.
tell me,
why shoud i give my all,
when the relationship is failing
(and it's all your fault)?
yes, yes, yes,
i love you
but it took time so
perhaps, i can learn
not to?
you broke me too.
but, oh honey-
you're the only one that can
break you. how can i break
something you never gave me
fully? there's no butterfingers
when the hands are empty.
no,
you broke you.
i'll tell you this, what
hurt the most: learning you
cheated through someone else.
so pack the memories &
leave my life behind.
i refuse to act caring to
the man who used repackaged words
he whispered to another, while still
convincing me he only,
liked the taste of my mouth.
let's have another chance,
it won't happen again.
go feed your lies to someone else.
i'll never know my own worth, but
i know it's more than dating a hoe
with a magnet mouth. so attratch your
own diseases and leave me out-
'cause i'm over second chances and
the easy (temporary) way out. i was safe
& i know that's the only reason you
'stayed' with one foot in (and one foot
out). but believe me,
when i say,
your life's at risk
if you dare
touch me
again.
“I’ll always love you.”
“I didn’t think it would end like this.” As I walked around the kitchen, the smooth surface of the countertops under my fingers, I thought about us. Memories came rolling back to me like waves in a storm: birthdays, holidays, celebrations. Good times. “But that wasn’t all, was it?” I whispered. I closed my eyes, and saw our dark times, too. Fights. Funerals. Emotional breakdowns. I’d known this moment was coming for so long, but now... it was so much harder than I thought it’d be. “I’m sorry. You’ve always been there for me, but... it’s just not working. And I don’t know what else to do.” Tears filled my eyes, and I took a shaky breath, fighting for control. “I’ll always-” My voice broke. “I’ll always love you.” Overcome with emotion, I fled the room sobbing, leaving the cake waiting on the counter forever.
#AJAY9979
Week/Weak
Maybe it’s the way she walked
Right onto the stage of every school musical
Like she was already the lead
Maybe it’s the green in her aquamarine eyes
Shining like opals in the limelight
Maybe it’s the way she spoke
Every word, every pause leading you forward
As if the whole world was captured by her thoughts
She is bittersweet hard candy laced in sorrow
She is macaroons dipped in honey
She loves raspberry sorbet and apple pie
Sweet and nostalgic, she was hard to stay away from
She is a cherry tree orchard in her garden
She is majestic and powerful with sweeping arms like branches that cradle you
She is bulletproof glass with a vendetta against the world
She is more than a pretty face in thigh highs
She’s had straight A’s since the second grade
She is more than something her parents can brag about at their house parties
She wears what she wants
She doesn’t care how she looks
She knows she is not defined by a number out of 10
She doesn’t waste time hiding away when boys stare
Looking at her like wolves look at helpless rabbits
For she is not a rabbit anymore
She is a panther skulking through the hallways
She turns around in her black Prada pumps
Gives them the dirtiest look they’ll ever see
They never dare to look her way again
She drinks hot tea on Mondays at lunch
Wearing leather jackets on Tuesday
I met her on Wednesday
We got lattes in a cafe on Thursday
She taught me everything about anything on Friday
She taught me why life was worth living on Saturday
She left me on Sunday
Girls like her aren’t meant to stay around
I know this now
They know what it is like to be a caged bird
And they never want to repeat that
So she left me on Sunday
And when I went to her house on Tuesday
Her mother told me to check under the cherry trees
But I didn’t find her
I found her jacket
Black leather with patches on the sleeves
It smelled like strawberry perfume and the chocolate milkshake we had shared
I leaned into her arms as it fell on top of us
Laughing we hushed each other’s smiles away
She wore ruby red lipstick and painted her knees like they were canvases
For the sole reason that she could
She was Picasso in my eyes
Her brush was her words and she made masterpieces of my thoughts
I’d hang them in the Louvre if I could
She loved playing BlackJack on the weekends
Casinos filled with people
But all she saw were dollar signs and the new pair of Louboutins she’d been eyeing
One time she brought me to a casino and I didn’t drink
But I got tipsy off the sound of her voice
One time I told her about my stuffed bear
How it was the last thing I had from my brother
She told me it was stupid and I should get rid of it
She never did like to talk about the past
She was a Ferrari racing against the winds of time
Fighting a losing battle but she did it anyway
And who was I to stop her?
She didn’t own a book but she had enough knowledge in her head to fill a library
I would go there everyday if I could
She detested riding the subway but on Thursday she stood in the aisles with me
She was my protector
She made me feel like I was worth something
She loved to glare stone cold icicles at everyone she passed
But she looked at me like I was the sun
Two minutes of looking at the sun causes permanent retinal damage
Maybe she knew that
Maybe she knew better
She was sunshine in January
She was storm clouds in April
Giving way to her May flowers
She was gifts on Christmas morning
Hot chocolate in the evenings
She tasted like peppermints and lasted as long as one too
She was the last honeysuckle in July
Leaving only the beautiful flowers and the memory of sweet syrup in her wake
She was love and longing, beauty and pain
Rolled up into one
She was everything I wanted
And nothing I needed
When we got off the train one day
She told me I made her feel complete
I told her I was nothing without her
One of us was lying
Disclaimer: 1) I am not old enough to gamble 2) I have never been on a subway or a train 3) I have never met this girl, so this is based off of my imagination and experiences with real people that I meshed into this
Empire fade away
I am the son of a slave’s grandchild
born into a hue of controversy and disdain.
Home is a dread empire’s shell and worth is the crumbs of a lowly.
Pain is the chill of a winter eve upon a grave of the long forgotten. Dressed in faded pastel plastic flowers, dead lips whisper that which nobody comes to hear. Bones dry and bleached as noon upon a pave are trampled as they merge with paths covered in snow and driven litter. Upon the hallow soil, toils of many a man’s sweat and life fall upon a country’s sword as nuts cast from branches reach an unavoidable floor.
What worth has the tepid water for stewing?
The engine runs on tea and curse words lovingly exchanged with familiar arrogances, dressed in Sarcasm’s passive aggressive duplicity.
Oh Empire!, we loved you before you spat at us.
We the exotic, of sheens long tarnished by familiarity and its all-incumbent indignations. The colony in the mind is imitated in edifices, reflected in passion for pomp and pageantry. Square jaws and stiff shoulders, mantled in red, boys roused by glories sung in times of pride.
I am the son of a slave’s grandchild
born into a hue of controversy and disdain.
Unrecorded histories in streets, trade and sweet undercurrents of musk and sweat. Crawling creatures’s lusts are sucked from the loins of masculinity. Prayers to sins, iniquities brought before the magistrate, appraised before the saluter of an expectation. It will all end bad and cause a stink when you hear of them eating us in our sleep. Puss and vomit in the pews amongst the likeminded, as they chide their councillors over tea and sandwiches. Sour words tell of the attitude, it was better back in our day! Though in whispered mordacity that it was less dark both in weather and in complexion.
What worth has the mouldy hop for brewing?
Shades in corners of shadow from lips of scorn plot. The contrite and conceited foul communities’s efforts, so the neighbour remembers to hate with fear that he cannot rationalise but fells in the words of a carouser. We hear the scorn of liberalised ideals that stoke the device named ignorance. The able purchase their means of security; and secure in towers of empathy, pretend to care nothing for the differences that we are and how all friends come from afar.
I am the son of a slave’s grandchild
born into a hue of controversy and disdain.
Home I new is now a ghetto of wealth, cleansed of the living
breathing melting and spiritual thriving.
Oneupmanship paid by postcodes and off street parking. Pretty boutiques selling trivial trinkets for the materially exhausted and ever wanting.
Colour wears extensions and morns the loss of Europe.
Air kissed greetings and exchanged coded credentials, into clubs of twittering neuroses and wordy sounding lunches on menus bigger than plates tipped in accordance.
I am the son of a slave’s grandchild
born into a hue of controversy and I grew out of the colony.
It is an empire faded away.
Modern “agenda”
It was nine-fifteen minutes. The fool opened his eyes, woke up, and lay there imagining for another five minutes
The idiot picked up the phone, went into YouTube, and looked at the comment he had written. Oh, no one answered! No one even clicked the “like” button. The idiot got nervous and started writing comments again ...
It was past twelve o'clock. The fool opened his stomach and opened the fridge. He wanted to have lunch and breakfast together. But then a message came on the phone. Someone liked his Facebook page! The fool was overjoyed. As if no one in this world was happier than him! He spent another hour on Facebook
It is one o'clock. He opened the fridge to drink water and drank the water. Then he remembered his favorite TV series and turned on the TV ...
It's five o'clock. The idiot turned off the TV, picked up his phone again, and went to his Instagram page. Oh, no! No one answered! The idiot got nervous and went on YouTube. Oh no, no more answers! He opened his stomach. He ate a quick meal and ordered pizza again. It was late in the day before he ate
It is eight o'clock in the evening. To distract himself, the idiot went to the social page of his favorite idol and began to look at his pictures. He wrote more comments and clicked “likes”. So he lost two more hours ...
The fool wanted to sleep. But even though his eyes were red, he wouldn't hang up. He downloaded new games and played the game on his computer for another two hours. An hour later, the idiot got very tired and fell asleep ...
The next day the fool woke up. But he was very lazy. He didn't want to go to work. He picked up his phone again and checked the messages. He didn't know what to do at the moment. But
... At that moment, a wonderful idea came to his mind: "Participate in a protest rally and demand only a salary from the government."
The fool sent a message to his foolish friends about it. And soon ...
***
They were many...