Tag Archives: Poetry

There’s no fate in hesitation

Words that inspired me today:

Fate doesn’t come to you at just anytime. At the very least if you want to use the term fate, it should happen, often at the most dramatic moments brought by coincident. That’s what makes it fate. That’s why, another term for fate is timing.

If I had not been caught at any of those dame traffic lights…if any of those red lights had helped me, even once….I could be standing in front of her as if it were fate. My love was always held back by that thing they call timing. That dame timing.

[But I was wrong.]

In the end, fate and timing do not just happen out of coincidence. They’re products of earnest simple choices that make up miraculous moments. Being resolute, making decisions without hesitation, that’s what makes timing.

He wanted her more than I did. And I should have been more courageous. It was not the traffic lights fault. It was not timing. It was my many hesitations.

KJH- Reply 1988

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The Woman I Wish You Were

I wish you would stop pretending.

Pretending that everything is okay when it feels like your world is crumbling down around you. I wish you could stop acting like a superwoman and just fall down and cry. I wish you could just let it all out and tell the world how tired you are. I wish that for once you would stop putting everyone ahead of yourself…just once…that you could put yourself first and just love yourself before you attempt to love anyone else. I wish you could stop for a minute, look into the mirror and realize just how different the woman looking back at you is from the woman you ought to be. For once, just this once, I wish you would not give a dame and just run wild, run to that place in your heart that you buriedΒ the day you decided it was okay to not be happy. I wish that for once, you would stop pretending to be happy and actually be happy. Continue reading The Woman I Wish You Were

Escape from Love

He’s a gem of a man, behold!
Arrogant but shy
Charming by the day
But a devil in the night

He’s fluent in the languages of love, lust, loneliness and heartbreak
His lips whisper promises of ectasy and boundless liquid pleasure

Reality he grapples with
Fantasy he embraces
Time he hates

His world is a facade of castles and kingdoms
With marble walls and glass doors
A mirage of sorts;
He the king and I his queen

His mind is a dome of complexity
It speaks of love in the morning
And lust in the evenings

But love I’ve had and want no more
A prisoner of lust am bound by choice
I seek no more and I desire not his heart
….Or anyone else’s

Escape is my precedence
And he…a fortunate accident
But wait,
Did i just stutter?
😊😊😊

When You Were Here

image

I once gazed upon his dancing eyes, his mysterious smile, his mismatched socks, his crooked teeth, his littered clothes on the floor and all I did was frown.

He was not perfect. He was never going to be perfect.

Today I gaze upon the same dancing eyes, the mysterious smile, the mismatched socks, the crooked teeth, the littered clothes on the floor and all I can do is swoon.

He is not here. He will never be here.

So here I stand, surrounded by memories frozen in time and memories playing on mind.

How is it that the very things I destested , the things I frowned upon and the things I hated I now look upon with such longing?

Take me back… to a time when I could see and feel, a time when I could hear and respond….

Give me back any moment…even the ones that made me despondent

Just take me back to a time when you were nigh.