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39pieces

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My greatest fear isn’t living an incomplete life, it’s not waking up and finding all my loved ones gone. Its not ultimate failure either. Its not promising forever and always, only to out own infinity.

My greatest fear is one day losing the version of me that loves you and never finding it, because there may come a day when you will not recognise me, you will look for in the depth of my own heart, in the expanse of my eyes and you will not find me. That is my greatest fear.

I know you think you’ll get through to me, but will you love me  when I wake up a hurricane, and I cannot be tamed, will you love me when I am a desert storm? When I am nothing but harsh winds and sand?

Will you love me when I refuse to love myself ?

I cannot trust myself to let you love me, you might cut yourself trying to arrange my 39 pieces. Because 1 day I could wake up and there could be 2 of me, and you know what they say 3’s a crowd, but because you love me you’ll try to bring in a 4rth but allow me to plead the 5th. This is our 6th trial of 7 judges. And I’m sorry, what you though was an infinity was just an 8 the fell over, our love lived it’s 9th life but you have to understand, this was never my in10tion.

There are fates far worse than death and this is one of them.

And sometimes I can feel the spaces between my bones vibrate, it’s like my body is breathing while I drown in the depth of emotion. Just because you’re able to find a pulse doesn’t mean there’s a soul.

 

 

But there is.

 

Yours Sincerely,

Lady P

(Tbc)

 

//excerpt from the book I’ll never write, 39 pieces//

#TheeLadyInk

 

 

 

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Heart Like Judas

It’s a shame, the woman that will come to the door of your heart after me.

She will come with a dust pan and a broom, ready to sweep all the pieces of me you left laying on the floor. She will come with bleach, in the hopes of washing out all the stains I left on your soul. She will try to wash your eyes so you can finally see her, but she will hear my name so often, it will slit her writs. She will try to kiss you, but all she’ll taste is my name, still lingering on the hems of your mouth. Your tongue will still taste like my favorite water melon lip gloss. She will wash your sheets, trying to get the smell of me off them. she will burn your shirts, because of the traces of lipstick I left on them.

It’s a real shame, because you will smoother her in her sleep, with memory foam pillows filled memories of me. You will call out for me while in your deepest sleep. And she will try to hit you over the head with a baseball bat. So that her miracle comes in the form of amnesia.
But I pity the woman, that will knock on your door after I leave. She will shed her skin for you to use a doormat, she will rip herself open, thread by thread to knit you a sweater and keep you warm, from your own cold heart.

She will hear stories about me, You will tell her stories of how you made me laugh, how you made my skin glow, but you will also tell her how I might have been too much to love,how I was too quiet to keep around, how you loved to play with fire, but I had a paper body. She will hear how I collapsed into myself.
How I refused to hold words like broken glass in my mouth, then she will hear my stories about you, laid out in metaphors immortalized in poems. Stories about how you drank, how you lied, how you kissed unfulfilled promises into my mouth, and expected me to be quiet.

She will wander(as I often do) what makes you, a monster, so damn lovable because all you do is grasp, all you do is take, she will find my shoes at the door and walk in them, then she will understand why I left.

She will pick my glasses up on the kitchen counter,and see through my lens how you have a heart like Judas. She will find my watch, on the bookshelf, and she will see how you will consume her time,the hours will tick away,and no darling, the watch isn’t broken, he is. She will see her hairs turn grey. She’ll pick up my iPod. Listen to all the songs you promised would be life,she will hear whispers of lies seep through the cracks you call a mouth, she will listen,to all the music I did. Music that will tear open her skin. And to the woman that will come after I leave.

Being kissed doesn’t means you are loved, ask Jesus about Judas.

One Day To Forever

The way in which I’m going to love you one day.
The way I will bloom flowers in your heart.
The way I will grab the sun and toss it to the sky on your grey days,
The way I will paint stars for you, on your darkest night.
I will always bring the moon back, to remind you that the best things always return.
I will ran up to the sky if I have to and paint the colors of the rainbow when you need a remainder of hope.

I am going to love, so deeply the ocean will thirst.
I will love you, whether or pockets sing, or they echo
Whether your bones can dance, or so broken, they can’t get up.
I will love you, whether your soul crumbles, or breaks into song.
Even in silence, or amidst an abundance of words i will look at you like you stole the sky.

And whether you have buried your sadness beneath your skin

I will rob that grave make a vacancy only happiness can fill
If you’re ever chased by the wind, I will be here to calm you, to hold you, to ease you .

Because you make my heart beat benediction
I look into your eyes, and I see the future unfold with each blink.
I hear you laugh, and it echoes through time and space.
I see your smile, and it reminds me that I’m home
I look at you, and I forget how to look away.
I saw you, and forgot everything I had ever seen before.

The palms of your hand felt like I had just touched love itself.

Letters To The Abyss

These words might never reach you. And even if they do, you might never take the time to read them all. But how else will you know you broke my heart? You shattered my spine, I couldn’t get back up. You made me cry for days on end. And on most mornings, when the sun was out and about, I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t get out of bed because it felt like an entire building collapsed on me. It felt like if my feet hit the ground they would crumble.

If you never read these words, how else will you know that I almost loved you. I almost gave you the very breath within my lungs. How will you know that you were magic to me, that wish after wish upon shooting stars formed you. If you never read these words, how else will you ever know that my heart beat sang your name, that your eyes looked a lot like home. How will you know that each time you held me, my heart had reason to beat, you made me want to live. Your laugh was a sound I was willing to listen to for the rest of my life. You mimicked the sky, just when I thought things were ending, up came the stars to show me that there will always be light, I just needed some darkness to notice it.

But you were not the moon, because one day you left the sky and never came back. One day turned to one month which turned to endless days I couldn’t even count anymore. Your silence killed me in ways you might never understand. Ways I can’t even explain. You hurt me in ways I wanted to hurt myself, I cried my self to sleep, I spent my days in bed trying to keep myself sane, trying to keep shreds of myself alive. Trying to keep myself alive. You made me want to die, literally. I felt like I couldn’t live anymore, I felt everything around me fall and crumble I felt my whole existence fade into the nothingness of the voids.

I almost loved you, I was willing to love you. But you left, and you took the air with you, you took the colors with you, you even took the sun. But no, I do not want you back, because you never should have left in the first place.

Rantings of a Broken Inrovert

It’s not always beautiful when I break.

I don’t poetically sit in the meadows shattering at the wrists. Its not a heroic battle for my sanity.

It’s not willing staying in bed all week. It’s not binge watching movies all night because I want to. It’s never beautiful when I break.

When my heart crumbles at my feet, when my spine to weak and numb to bend over.

It’s never beautiful when I can’t get out of my bed because it feels like a building collapsed on top of me. Because my feet believe they will shatter when they hit the ground. It’s never beautiful when I break because it’s accomplishment when I remember to drink a glass of water.

How can it be beautiful, when Its 3pm and telling my self to stop crying, telling my self it’s going to be okay. Trying to hold the few pieces I have left together.

It’s not beautiful when my body aches, but cant move because it knows its not capable anymore, how is it beauty when I can literally feel my heart hurting. When I can’t even breathe.

Because some times I can’t even write for weeks or months because the only words I have to offer the world are trapped and drowning.

But I swear I’m trying. Trying to wake up, trying to breathe, trying to just live.

I swear I’m trying to be a person. Who smiles more and goes about the day happy. I’m trying to wake my soul up.

Trying not to cry as much anymore. I’m trying not to be broken anymore. I’m trying to be stronger, to thicken my skin so I don’t bleed as much.

I can’t even share a bed with anyone, because sometimes I find myself crying at 2am and I can’t explain why, so I keep everyone away, I turn my phone off for weeks. I hide from the world because I cant let them see me like this, broken mangled, torn apart, trying to Peel my skin off trying to take my heart out of my chest because I don’t want it anymore. I don’t even think I want this life anymore, because I’m tired..

But my greatest fear, is not being able to come to the phone anymore because even though yes you do have the right number, I’m just not the person you’re trying to reach, not anymore because I’ve wandered so far off, I can’t find my way back.

Remnants

And this, is how I heal. I tear myself apart, piece by piece. I peel my skin and shed my flesh. For a moment, I am not me, I become a blend of tears and blood. I cry still my eyes start to burn, till my heart is exhausted and beats so slow, it almost stops.

And in that brief flatline moment I feel nothing. I get the rare chance to feel nothing. Every heart break seems distant. All my wounds stop to ache and I am free. In that moment I see the chains at my feet. The shekels fall loose. And happiness unveils herself to me. And its in these moments that when you ask how I am, say “I’m fine” and it feels real. My sole survival is based on these moments

But then as briefly as it came, it leaves, and I am still chained and bound. My heart still aching, my mind trying to escape. And everything shatters. My world ceases to exist, and If you’re there, I can’t see you through the tears in my eyes, I can’t hear you over the sound of my heart breaking. I can’t feel your touch over the doubt that covers my skin.

Its nights like these, when I’m laying on the floor. Wondering, would the world miss me? If I wore my shoes, grabbed my coat and walked away. If I cut my hair, changed my name, if I gave up on being me. If left this life and created another. If I put my memories in box marked “do not recycle” would I then I find peace? If I left without nothing but the clothes on my back because everything I own reminds me of the life I’m trying to leave behind. If I bought a one way ticket to the desert, or some far off place where no one knows me.


The remnants of my heart can’t be pieced together, so I’ll gather what’s left, take it to place, where even though it’s not whole, it will feel complete

Inbetween

We don’t have forever. All we have is the time between Hello and Goodbye

And when the time comes,either through death or circumstance, when we cannot be together.

Don’t remember me being alone

Don’t remember the walls I built around myself

Don’t remember me broken

Don’t remember my grief

Don’t remember me scared and vulnerable

Don’t remember my scars

Don’t remember me weak

Don’t remember my tears

But rather, remember me for one thing, and this thing only.

Remember me, for how I lived

How I Laughed

and how I Loved,

with my heart on my sleeve and stardust in my eyes.

#TheeLadyInk

Soul Scars

Sometimes I can feel the echo of your hands on my skin. Your breath on my neck. I remember that look in your eyes when you looked at me. I spend nights trying to forget it, days trying not to see it in others. I toss and turn trying to remember to forget how you pulled me in like you own me. 
But you didn’t. You grabbed me, pressed yourself between me like tears in a book. My cries, kicks and screams felt heavy within me, but seemed to slip from my mouth into yours without being heard. You literally swallowed my cries.I couldn’t breathe and you didn’t care. You broke me and didn’t care. You ran into my secret garden with your muddy boots and left a wreck. I cried as hard as I could, but you were set in stone, led me to believe desires of flesh can’t be helped, even if it meant helping yourself to a 13year old. 

In just 30 seconds you tore apart an entire human being, took a wrecking ball to my whole life. Pinned to ground, hopping it would swallow me. But against my will, something I was told was beautiful union, became a nightmare. So most times Its not an echo anymore but it’s the voice, being screamed through a mega phone. 

And you, you took everything from me, you made the home of life within me a graveyard, plucked the seed you planted like it was a weed. You left scars on my soul, and they don’t make band aids for that. 

And it’s the wounds without scars that never heal. 

-TheeLadyInk

Beginning 

FAQ;  What made you start doing spoken word, who inspired you? 

Well, it was the year 2013, I was in high school, on a date I cannot remember, I was sick and stayed in bed. I had a friends poetry book and decided what better time than the present to read it. So I read it. There was a particular piece, I can’t remember the title or Tue exact words but anyway. I read her poetry and it sparked a fire within, this said fried is also the same person who introduced me to other spoken words poets, Jackie Hill, Janette(genetics) and so many other. 
This Hurricane of a human being, clumsily strolled into my life and turned it around. Changed so many things about how I saw life and gave me a while new appreciation for every breath I could possible take. Our friendship is made up of all the little moments life gave us, stolen glances and what not. She has always fascinated me, there’s this otherness embedded in her eyes that is captivating. She has the widest smile I’ve ever seen and I’m sure the stars can see it. I learnt to flaunt my weird because of her. 

These are the rare beings that walk into your life, set it on fire and teach you to walk barefoot on the sun.  If I could meet her again, in another life, I would…. In every life I would be given I would meet her, till the ends of the earth and all the other planets. 

Shots and Insecurities 

There’s a couple of reasons I never talk about my ex, reasons why I never sit and reminisce about what we had and how we had it. There are reasons It’s hard for me smile about the good days, to laugh about the jokes we had. It’s not because I’m spiteful or bitter or because I hate him. 

But because he did something to me that I didn’t know if I could recover. He didn’t just break my heart, he didn’t just lie or cheat.It’s not that I never loved him,because I did… 

But he left scars on my self esteem. Wounded my way of thinking and suddenly I couldn’t even look at myself the same. I saw myself in the mirror and saw someone who, in his words,  had to run more and eat less. And truth be told I stopped loving myself long before I stopped loving him. And by the time I walked way, I was broken and mangled. 

Yes we had beautiful moments, when we went to the places where the stars sleep, when he held my hand and walked through life with me, when the moon was our light through our darkest nights. 

But he painted over those memories, and suddenly when I kissed him I couldn’t taste his soul anymore, if I did, it tasted a lot like whiskey now, he was no longer my night on a stallion but a staggering drunk who took my heart out my chest and traded it in for a couple of shots. 

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