I wish I could be one of those people who holds onto unrequited love for months, even years. I think there is something about the discipline of wanting something that can never be yours. I am unsure what part of my nature makes me recoil once it becomes clear that my desire will never be mine.

I wrote this letter to the desire of my wanting.

…..

“I love you” is all I wanted to say.
How hard is that to hear?

I used to be riddled with fear. I used to be scared to admit my feelings, but for once I felt safe too. Perhaps it’s because you were my friend, or perhaps I have grown more than I care to admit, or perhaps it was your soft nature.

I think it could be me.

Love changes you, or its work is not complete- and love changed me. Although this did not make you think of me as any sweeter. You did not want to savour my taste- it made me feel bitter and isolated.

I knew I was delicious. I knew you could become a fiend for me. How confident I was in my abilities to hunt you- to chase- to bring you into the throes of my love. But I did not want you to be under my claws, because you had the softest skin I had ever met. Under my grip, I would hold you until you begged for release- how much pleasure that would give me.

I wanted you to be happy, with or without me.

Surrendering to my feelings made me feel like a god- capable of anything I set my will to. A creator of truth. A garden of endless desire.

I was your friend, but I wanted to kiss down your neck- down your chest- until you moaned and begged for rest.

Was my desire sacred? I cannot tell you now, it’s faded like the clouds I adore so much. I no longer crave your touch.

I romanticised you because I wanted to be kind and sweet, without biting, without clinging to you with desperate need. How selfish of me.

Loving you made me sweet, as it was meant to do.

You are human, and so am I- but gods want relentlessly. Gods stay close because humans give us what we need.

What I needed from you was a pleasure that would help me see.

I had changed and grown more than I wished to believe.

Love always,
Day Eve

I am not afraid of who I am.
I am afraid of losing my ego.

I am not afraid of who I am.
I am afraid people won’t like what they see.

I am not afraid of who I am.
I am afraid of change.

I am not afraid of who I am.
I am afraid of losing my mask.

I am not afraid of who I am.
I am afraid of becoming great.
I am afraid of living in the truth—
that I am beautiful in all my shades,
and so are you.

I could run from my troubles.

I used to believe

I did not need my heart.

I used to believe

That I could pretend.

Practicing my smile in the mirror.

I used to

I used to

I used to

I used to

I used to need the lie.

The pretence.

The security of corrupted comfort.

We are taught these skills early.

In a capitalist system-

In a racist world

It is hard to fee…

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HUNTING

is steady.

I will wait till we are ready.

Then I will find the centre of you;

kiss its gentle,

cold

dripping walls.

You are hungry.

I feed you-

violence.

We warm ourselves.

I in your blood.

You in desperation.

Flogging the ground

In your final breath.

Artwork: ArtistUnknown

I used to believe

I did not need my heart.

I used to believe

I could run from my troubles.

I used to believe

That I could pretend.

Practicing my smile in the mirror.

I used to believe

I needed the lie.

The pretence.

The security of corrupted comfort.

We are taught these skills early,

In a capitalist system-

In a racist world

It is hard to feel.

It is hard to remember.

…

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Overwhelmed

This is the beginning

How

Tragic

Abysmal.

I choose to focus on what I can control

What I can understand

What I can hold

My loved ones

My dearest

My truth.

I am scared.

What am I meant to do?

Run, hide

They find people like me

Kill me in the night

Only my friends ¨cry

On the news

They say I was aggressor

I lived a violent life

l fought for dignity

And respect.

Im scared

Overwhelmed

This is not the end

How

Tragic,

Abysmal

Terrifying.

I want to write to you about rainbows, trees, and flowers, but this is not possible.
Every day, I pray for them to continue.

I know one day we will be grateful for these moments-when we can sit down with only the fear of warplanes and bombs. Soon, the warplanes will be above our heads-they are already above so many.

What will keep us safe in this dangerous, cruel world?

It is not possible to hold the pain of the world in one body.
For me, it is so overt that it keeps me alert.

A fortnight is a luxury. In one minute, your family can be dead. In 24 hours, your city could be moving toward an attempt at safe shelter- all the things you held in the world, gone.

We have seen the beginning like we have seen the end: the lying, the hiding, the sanitising of violence. The rewriting of our pain.

Until there is no more rewriting to be done.

I look toward the flowers and I wonder- how much longer until I am running past them.

I love you

forever more.

when i opened that door.

when i saw your face

my heart began to pace.

i could not wait

i could not contend

with the notion

that we could only be friends

how silly,

to fall

in love.

with an idea,

in my heart.

you are the sun.

in reality,

you hurt me

and called it love.

in reality

i hurt myself

when i called you

the one.

The war is coming.

The war is coming.

The people did not listen.

They did not water their flowers.

Too scared.

Too anxious.

Until it was too late.

It was all gone-

Many years later

The flowers returned.

The rain did not disappear,

Only the people.

We are a beast-

Do not underestimate what we are willing to be.

What we can become

In order to ensure our freedom

In order to ensure our safe passage of love.

This world will not submit

Thus it will fall

The spirits, angels and gods,

will lead, without wings.

They wait for the humans to sing.

They wait- but not for long.