Language of Absence
Have you ever been speaking to someone and you become lost in the language of their absence?
Looking hopelessly at eyes that are no longer leering at your mouth, waiting for a moment to interject?
Looking hopelessly at lips that are no longer eager for the cadence of their voice to contribute to the conversation?
And your logic starts to feel flawed?
As floored as your confidence, you start to look down at the ground and see it dying,
Before you look back up at them, the taste in your mouth now riddled with embarrassment, disguised as irritation.
Do my words not work their way around your subconscious like they used to?
I am here craving your ears.
Those ears that I tentatively teased seduction on the tip of my tongue without ever being overt with our intimacy;
It feels like you’ve given your ears to someone else.
Meanwhile, I dedicated my worth in words to you.
Spent sterlings on sensual syllables to serenade those patient ears.
I am disgusted at myself more than anything else.
That I let those ears get bored.
And now I get to hear somebody else describe you as their muse…
I know when we argue about this later you’ll tell me I’m being dramatic, but you still haven’t realised that I’ve stopped talking, and now I’m just looking at you.
Lost in the language of your absence.
Looking hopelessly at eyes that are no longer leering at my mouth, waiting for a moment to interject.
Looking hopelessly at lips that are no longer eager for the cadence of their voice to contribute to the conversation.
My logic is flawed.
As floored as my confidence.
uploaded: 13/02/21
Who Could I?
You are as precious as Disney depictions of eskimo kisses,
and pinky promises made under covers.
Who could I possibly trust more?
Tracing your fingers over my muscles,
These arms would spend eternity and a day, making sure that you’re safe.
Elevating my heart rate, your presence reigns supreme,
a manifested dream actualised in the physical.
Speaking of your physical, I’m in awe everytime you walk through the door.
You’re now a piece of me that brings me peace, while we listen to PND,
My phone would stay on DND for nobody else, but you.
Who could I possibly trust more?
uploaded: 13/02/21
The Cliché
I miss waking up in the middle in the night with my arm numb from the weight of comforting my treasure while she sleeps.
I miss the way your lips sink into mine, like a body being smothered in soft silk sheets.
I miss taking peaks at your features inbetween kisses just to see if you’re as intoxicated in this moment as I am.
I miss the way your feet align themselves perfectly on top of mine, and how you use mine to stop yours from feeling cold.
I miss the subtle smell of your perfume on my pillow, and on all my t-shirts that you stole.
I miss being conscious of my heartbeat with your head on my chest, and being worried if I’m breathing too loudly, then holding my breath just to see if you’d notice, and then breathing normally again and getting annoyed with myself, because now my heartbeats probably louder than it was before.
I miss scrolling through marvel films and debating the importance of a scene.
I miss paying attention, trying to memorise what all the inflections in your voice mean.
I miss being present,
I miss you being present.
I miss not feeling like time and space were a measure of distance, while we social distance.
But I guess FaceTime will work until then.
uploaded: 13/02/21
Scatter Brain
if my account was equivalent to my anxiety, I’d be skydiving in foreign islands, holding the hand of my destiny. then landing in an oasis, the same price as my brand new spaceship, in which I would ride around in and lane switch, while playing unreleased Drake hits (cos you know, like, we’d be boys on that level, and uno, he’d send me joints on the low just to hear my opinion) and my opinion would be the finaliser in big business mergers. I would attract herds of positive energy, just based off money payed by platforms to hear me speak. women would lay themselves bare for me like snacks on a platter, and swoon like I’m Perry the Platypus. plus, pussy would be in abundance from the beautiful, big bunda, and busty types.
you know, all the perks that come from spending cheese, big pimpin, and ballin without a budget.
instead, I,
plummet into periods where I don’t wanna move or speak. seek sleep, but it’s as elusive as the women that I dm; isn’t if fucked that it’s always the ones you don’t want, but that want you, that never wanna settle on being just friends? I plan my weekends during my weekdays. praying patiently for productivity but it seems procrastination is kicking my ass relentlessly. chest pains when I wake up, and when I’m tryna force the sleep. mri scans would tell you I’ve got thick walls around my heart, my ex said well isn’t that ironic, in my head she’s goated for that joke, I see her as iconic. my most recent lady friend said she could see us being happy together, and trust, she was more right boss. but when it didn’t bang she asked me why do I fight off, accepting affection, and keep on punishing myself? told her I’m just a kid chasing summer, and you can’t save me from myself. I know I can’t walk with God and fear simultaneously, I’m gonna have to let go of one of the two eventually. I know my tanks been showing up empty when it comes to reciprocated energy. I just needed to step back, and analyse who was really my enemy. But I also know, sometimes I let my thoughts just get the best of me, lack of sleep and paranoia is one hell of a recipe.
Maybe I need to slow down,
and
breathe,
and think about things rationally.
And stop my anxious mind from suffocating my thoughts again.
uploaded: 13/02/21
QuoteKwame 