Lost

Thunderous echos within
Fading; A staccato rhythm to it’s beat.

A little girl; lost within the ashen chambers,
of a palace once rose red and filled with hope.

Lost

Forgiven but never forgotten,
her past transgressions torment her

Lost within the woman she is yet to become,
she curls up in a corner;
clutching a ratty blanket of memories to her form.

A mediocre form of protection.

Anything to keep warm,
Anything to keep safe,
from the bitter coldness that now torments her every waking moment,
from the demons that now plague her soul.

The bitter coldness, that causes the adolescent that she is still is;
to teeter..
on the edge of madness,
to spread her arms open in jubilation..
to welcome the darkness within

So cold.
So very cold.

Lost within the child she has now become,
the woman clings to her sanity
and her childlike innocence..

Her belief in the promise of tomorrow;
A beacon that lights her way, pulling her away from the edge.

Still,
She stumbles and falls; succumbing to the little broken girl inside of her.
Tears falling; bright red against the stark whiteness of her surroundings.

A rose red; the same colour that her now ashen palace of dreams, once was.

Advertisements

Las manchas de tinta sobre papel.

Las manchas de tinta sobre papel.
Me ahoga en su sustancia.
Restante hasta su tiempo ha llegado.
Descompuesto y se convirtió en polvo.

Una vida en líneas, de color blanco bordeado de azul.
Cada hoja un nuevo comienzo.
Cada trazo de tinta, una cacofonía de diferentes etapas de una vida;
Gobernado por la emoción.

Cada página en blanco de un nuevo comienzo.
El inicio del dolor incalculable, emociones sin control.
Que fluctúe lejos y fluye de mi ser.
Como manchas de tinta sobre papel.
Diciendo cuentos, viejo, nuevo y desconocido.
Revelando…
El funcionamiento interno de un ser roto.

Porque
La palabra escrita no puede ser empañada,
excepto por el hombre que lo escribió y por el hombre que comprende su significado pero;
Significado se pierde en el tiempo…
Y el tiempo es perdido sobre significado…

Y nada significa más para mí,
que las manchas de tinta sobre papel.

___________________________

This was my first attempt at a Spanish translation of two of my earlier pieces of prose which I combined. 🙂

1 night in Cape Town

I think I fell in like,
After 1 night in Cape Town
I think I fell deeper
After 1 night and a coffee in Cape Town.

A darkened room
Music blaring
People dancing
Strangers staring

Just 1 night in Cape Town
That’s all we ever had
Just a 1 nighter in Cape Town
That’s all I’ll ever be

Pushed towards you
By friends I’ll never forget
For just 1 night
I’ll never regret

Just 1 night in Cape Town
Dancing together
Just 1 night in Cape Town
Singing to one another

Twisting and turning
It felt so right
Smiling up at you
The entire night

Just 1 night in Cape Town
You told me to never be lonely
Just 1 night in Cape Town
A million kisses to help me on my way

Flirtatious smiles
A girl embolden by liquid courage
Her looks not too innocent
Her touches meant to encourage

It took,
Just 1 night in Cape Town
For you to make me lose my mind
Just 1 night in Cape Town
To prove you’re one of a kind

Quirky lines
Visible on glowing screens
Lots of laughter
Behind the scenes

It took,
Just 1 night in Cape Town
To make me feel like I’ve never felt before
Just 1 night in Cape Town

Meaningless banter
Filled with meaning
A lightness within
I’m not used to feeling

Just 1 night in Cape Town
It’s all we’ll ever get
Just 1 night in Cape Town
A night I’ll never forget

Her Tears

Her tears;
Acidic tears flowing like a river
Her heart;
A heart so scarred it hurts to beat
Her being;
A being so broken she’s scared to breathe.

All the hurt she’s felt causes these tears to fall,
All the love she’s given thrown back by all,
Bits and pieces taped together, pieces missing,
placing curves against points;
to show she’s fine and unaffected.

Truth be told
She’s hurting and alone
Different. Outcast.
Viewing life from the outside
And looking in, not liking what she sees
Her protests and words of wisdom,
Barely heard above the noises of those living in “sin”.

The hypocrites, the “innocent” few, condemning others for deeds they, themselves have done.

All addictive
All better in moderation
but
moderation doesn’t exist
Its a go big or go home kind of view
Sex, lust and other drugs to just name a few.

The hypocrites don’t realize,
Her life spent living on the outside and looking in;
Allows her to see it all and the outcomes it will bring
But her protests and words of wisdom,
Barely heard above the noises of those living in “sin”.

Secrets revealed and discovered,
All seen by a little girl on the outside,
Catcalls and raucous outbursts of “she devil that cries wolf” when the truth is revealed.

All the jaggered pieces and layers of one little girl, painstakingly put together,
Shoddy workmanship at best;
All to lay their fears and secrets to rest

Not Now

Understanding finally came
I was finally becoming sane

After years of waiting in silence
After years of inner violence
After years of hidden tears
After years of so many fears

Understanding finally came
I was finally becoming sane

So close … So agonizingly close
I could almost touch it
I could feel its warmth around me,
A balm to my injured spirit..
I felt safe
I felt loved
I felt complete

Only..

Only to lose it all with a few words
Returning..
Once more to the silence
Returning..
Once more to the inner violence
Returning..
Once more to the hidden tears
Returning..
Once more to my hidden fears

That which was so close …
So agonizingly close
I could almost touch it;
Became a distance so great, not an echo could be heard
I could feel its warmth around me;
Became the cold comfort of an empty space, a space meant to be filled by kin
A balm to my injured spirit;
Vanished,
leaving nothing but broken pieces.

I had felt safe; now I feel persecuted
I felt loved; now I feel hated
I felt complete; now I feel like half the woman I once was

What choice do I have?
My heart or my home?
My home or my heart?
I cannot decide ..
Not now..

Your Curse

Broken

Bitter

An acrid taste fills my mouth at the merest thought of you.

An inane urge to be sick occupies the movie reel in my mind.

The reel broadcasting memories, laughter, hurt and most of all bitterness

You would like that, wouldn’t you?

Watching me become sickened at the mere thought of you.

Watching me fight my inner impulses.

Watching the hatred set my eyes ablaze but also a dull flicker in the darkness of my eyes revealing  my fear at the knowledge you hold.

The knowledge to hurt me in so many ways.

You’ve forgotten dearest, I hold the same knowledge,

The same knowledge that could tear apart your supposedly perfect world.

The same knowledge that could shatter your precious life as you know it.

The same knowledge but somehow the knowledge I hold, has more power than yours.

Is it not ironic?

The same knowledge we share could hurt you much more than it could ever begin to hurt me?

Yes, I may be plagued with bitter memories, at the merest thought of you, but I will not spend my life dwelling on such an abysmal waste of life such as yourself.

Enjoy your life as short as it may be all the best to you and your family.

Open your mouth and I’ll open mine.

Keep your secrets and I’ll keep mine.

You had your chance.

The deed is done.

Your only choice is to run.

I’ll see you one day in the bowels of the earth,

I cannot wait, for that’ll be your curse.

Bitter

I’m rather resourceful when I need to be, and I know it. But you never knew me well enough to know it as well.

You lied.

You took me for a fool.

You fed me pretty little words and I? being the delusional fool, took to them as a bird to the wind.

And I can’t believe I’m still wasting tears on a jerk such as yourself.

I can’t believe I wasted emotion on a cretin such as yourself.

You’re definitely “scum of the earth” but you just hid it better than most.

You say you serve a higher cause but you only serve your own selfish needs.

Worst of all? You’re my own dirty little secret and you made me yours.

The wheel turns and some things are better left unsaid.

But I hope I’ll get the chance to watch your pathetic ass squirm when YOUR world comes crashing down.

I hope you’ll send me a post card from hell 🙂

ArriverderLa