....and Repeat!

Remember that day when i played you alist of haydin’s songs and
You told me that onestood out to you?
You said you’d wondered if that song “I cant stop loving you” could be us someday and
I had a mini jolt in my mind.
It was truth, calling me to it
Urging me gently, to keep abreast of these words as
Maybe, maybe, they might mean something
I know this now, because of course, my 4 finally met its zero to perfect my vision
Somehow, I see clearly now.

You too, are death scared aren’t you?
Afraid, mate?

The moment it starts, it begins to end and the slope I once spoke of, is quite slippery, as you remind me today
Even when you said you might stay, you really were running ‘round a circle that was to get you back to where you started in time to start loving someone new and lose, yet again
But its the thrill of the ride that we chase. Its the cycle, so to find it, is to have

Loved and lost for so long, the two seem mutually compatible and there you have got your compatibility on which you build the bond you need.
Love, dream, lose, reminisce and repeat till you get enough to crash, cry, misery as you tell yourself you’d know better next time... and repeat
Love, dream, lose reminisce and I know only too well about this whole thing
Love, dream, lose reminisce.
And God forbid that one time when we get to love and dream and we get stuck at this unfamiliar junction of actually embracing love because THEN! THEN we know that that isn’t right because really, it cant possibly be as good as it gets.
God forbid you fall in love, because there MUST be somebody, ANYBODY out there better for us than this one person we’re dreaming with so best we- test it, reassess it, resist it and accept no other conclusiokn that says it just may be it because we don’t know how to deal with anything we don’t know how to lose... hop skip jump, shake it off, tuck it in all the wrong places hell, rob a bank if we must because somehow, we MUST lose it.... then reminisce in misery, and repeat.

Naughty Nothings

I want to tell you a few things.
Whisper sweet naughty nothings into your ears to make you ...
Feel me.
Get this bulky mass of appreciation out delivered from me to you so you...
You feel me?
I want to tell you a few things.
So easy to forget though you I must say, seem unforgettable. Not that I’ve tried, but hey!
Feel me.
I’d like to think I know a thing or two about worthy and if you were sized, you’d be...
Supreme.
I want to tell you a few things. Quite alot of things that aren’t easy to release because you know history teaches some harsh lessons.
After a while, naivety slithers out your life as you realize that people, can sometimes, have too much pride and people, can too often, forget how to be truthful.
May I say, sir...your humility makes you shine?
Fake it if it may be so and really, I say fake it if you must because sometimes, you’ve got to fake it to real it and who is to blame you for trying?
May I say, sir... your humility blinds my eyes?
I pick things out of your words that I don’t want to but I am sorry, I’m just trying to make certain you are real.
I want to tell you a few other things.
About how I get scared that you’d be human and when you hear it, you’d get human.
Pride, shame, guilt inter-fears of the possibilities that could be shared.
And as much as I know you are nothing BUT human, I also know that I don’t want you to be...
Feel me?
May I say sir, ... you are my latest fear?
You replace the giddiness that school brings, with thoughts of your words n... mannerisms.
And no, I am not complaining.
I am just saying... that I would like to tell you a few other things.
But you really are human, aren’t you?
Its difficult for a dreamy mind to excuse human actions but who am I not to get this?
Hey, if I may say sir, you really truly are...my latest urge.

Beauty is.

I have blemishes on my skin
Nothin photo shop cant fix
And if photoshop could be real enough to be worn
Well, then I guess I could photoshop me some wear.

Make believe am pretty to make some up to my face
Make believe the skintone is well uniformed
So much so that it just glows

Matted, yet glows.

I'd draw myself an eyebrow that arched towards the sky and curved back
As if made a short visit to the stars
Said "hi" and bounced back
Make some stardust right under those so it'd look as if my bones were perfectly shaped.
Nothing like perfectly shape'd cheekbones to look as though
They were ornaments beautifully perched on my face
My skin would have no flaw...
Oh well, maybe a dimple or two but hey!
That would only make me look more beautiful.

Photoshop aint real though... so makeup it is.
Mac'it'up, Marykay till I look like the acceptable form of me.

Because it is a war out there, and aint nobody looking to get caught off guard.
Every step outside is a run into the battlefield and you want to give yourself a figting chance.

Your lipgloss better pop twice cuz once wont cut it.
Do the red lipstick thing! Hey... i hear shimmer lids are in.

Somedays when I get back from the club, I dont want to take my makeup off.
I look so good... I dont want to go back.

Truth is, I was never born with makeup and neither was I born with airbrush...
Somewhere along the way the idea that I was far from perfect got was allowed to settle in my mind.
To leave home without makeup is to leave home without armour.

Till this day though, I still refuse to edit my pictures out of shame.
Let it be known that I know where am from though sometimes, my memory sucks.

I am from a land where beauty resides in things unforseen, things seen, things perceiveable and short there of.
Where beauty is... is!
Beauty is!
It just is.
A place where beauty isnt what you want it to be, it is what it is and what that is, is.
Beauty lives within the air and in the soil it runs on, the hills it circles and the sky it breathes... so how dare i not be enough to face this battle?

Few months ago, I found myself caught off guard. I was on a trip and to be honest, I was scared shitless to realize that I had not my makeup with me.
My false belief in my beauty challenged my pride and there I was, in conflict.
Too proud to admit that I needed makeup, too afraid to deny that I didnt.
Do you see the dillema I was in?

Needless to say, I stepped out into that battlefield and well... the rest is history.

As I stepped out into this war the sun reflected off my glow. I heard a glisten roar as I shaded my eyes with these slender dark fingers of mine.It casted on my face found refuge in my skin it simply blended in and asked to be hidden. I laughed at the thought of that... all with my 34 teeth.
I heard someone tell me that I really neeeded to get my supranumeray teeth removed and well,as I said...this truly was a battle field and since photoshop couldnt save me then, I figured I`d best be ready to save myself.
Ego. Prrriiideeee is one powerful thing.
But really, I am yet to find a good reason to remove my teeth.
So there I was wondering what to do with these words when my thoughts faded into nothing.
Really, that is all it was. It really was nothing.
This person who seemed to care so much about the tools with which I masticate. Talk about minding my beez. Wonder if he'd care to comment on my bowels too since well... he seems to give a shit.

So with the gleem of my skin and this funny dude who wanted to personally assist me in knowing enough of my business... really, there was not much to war.

There I was fumbling for the guns that were to be the words flowing from the lips with which I'd `pow`pow` the world,...eventualy they'd fall in love with me, through my lips.

But... in between the many people who walked past me, unaware and the few who seemed to stare in inquisition, I realized that I had ran out of battles to fight.

Quite disenchanting to realize that there really was no war worse than the one within me.

There I was, outside, naked. Without arms, and no one even seemed to care.
Finally
I
was
free.