Do you wanna know how much my heart weighs Di-sect me open , while counting how many scars life has tattooed on me Do you wanna know how many litres of tears have cascaded down these eyes How I hug myself at night, in the dark When all is silent
Pushed me out the nest Fearing the unknown Mistook your actions In hindsight, you did what had to be done I grew a backbone Woman! I am because you are.
We are the fights within us The constant turmoil Self doubt Pity And God knows whatever else demons we face Tame them as we may They see the joy in us They creep up Slowly, they subdue it Drown it Kill it The rays become grime And we become grinches
They say dirty hands are sign of clean moneyA clean livingAs if dirty hands are a moral compassI don’t think they knew about youYou and your dirty handsDirt stained from hard labourThey are stained with innocent blood tooFrom the permanent scars your hands have tattooed on your son’s backThe blood
Woke up on Sunday the 8th of July to hear the saddest news. A whatsapp message that said “Rae has passed”, most of us thought it was a prank. Rae was at it again, she was always one for crazy shenanigans and even though we only knew each other virtually,
I’m a cryer, if there is even such a word. I cry a lot almost over everything, although I don’t cry over anything. Its been something that always worries me because the society I grew up in has a lot to say about it. “Crying is for babies.” Thought you