Today it is not a love poem delivered with yellow roses at a sunset in Miami recited by him on one knee..
It is a love poem to the tits of my heart hang on barbed wire,
To my soul running after the dying pulse
Today I am passing through my heart with an army of memories
Gone gone gone gone gone..
Fighting to pick up the realisations coated on the dark,
Dark dark dark scars.
I’m passing through with my tongue licking the purse off each wound and digging the rotten meat out of its cave
I will love the smell of pain
I will not hang on, I need, need to let go.
I laid at the rooftop of my dreams.
That had creeked through the dark walls like a sunrise to reality.
Moments I woke up feeling like sleep did not empty life from me.
I felt the sun hit my skin to melt my colours for the rain to carry them to a world amazed by their glorious flow.
Years I stripped my skin to bear hope and radiance and not blade cuts to release shame.
Times I walked through crowds without having to catch my breath.
Or hold my anger within my eyes because the pain would then escape for the world to know.
To know that I was fragments of useless pieces of trash .
When I passed by the ashes of that house it took me to a grave, ofcourse of death..
Not death death but death where I’m a slave struggling to feel relevant with every breath.
Death smelling of my ex lover’s betrayal
He lied that if I loved him hard I would grow,
but he crushed the walls and dropped each brick in my stomach so that I would never take in anything other than freeing myself from my own ashes.
Freeing myself from his haunting face.
I remember smiling at him while we sung Rest in Peace to myself.
Death where my skeleton rises holding my screaming dreams waiting for the next woman to build.
A Death where I give up.
At the boarders of my heart.
Is a lost sense of compassion
For exhaustion and delusion
So when I chose happiness I mean walking with him to the alter as my new lover with depression watching in the audience.
I mean a found sense of passion within my realizations.
I mean telling depression he sent me to the grave but I have found heaven.
Where I will gather those ashes to build a new house with baby dreams playing around.
Where I will be that woman to raise them.
.. I let go
of my ex.
author – Nabirah❤