Her

Her laugh- the most original pure and soothing I have ever heard.

She walks with this joy that is contagious.

Her smile sets my mind adrift and captivates every piece of me.

 

She has become someone strong, Beautiful and alluring.

I am in awe of her every fraction.

Delight – delight every second I am with her.

 

My soul has been captivated and set alight.

I want to write to you morning and noon about all the things that I have grown to love but nothing could come to mind, apart from you.

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You

I knew your smile would lead a thousand men astray, however I know that I am no man and that my hands were more than able to carry you throughout each and every storm without ever getting lost.

I knew I would be able to break every cage of self-doubt and self-destruction in you.

I knew I could make you believe again.

I knew my love would suffice

I knew I would hold onto you until my hands bled

I knew I would protect you from your past and give you reason to want to continue to breathe…

I knew my poetry would be your morning verse spread across our bed for you to read,

So that you would never have to guess what’s inside my mind.

I have always been an open book love, You just always started reading the wrong chapter.

 

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Not just yet.

Don’t give it all at once love.

Don’t show them your disentanglement just yet love.

 

Don’t show them the claw marks, don’t show them the rage,

Passion and eagerness to be found.

 

Not just yet.

 

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Beauty becomes her.

She clings to the fear of her failed expectations,

What she should have said,

Done,

Been,

Who not to hurt and who to allow to hurt her.

The regrets run down her spine crippling her.

She sits beside me and all I can see is the delicate beauty she hides so well.

Mj Pienaar

The sand altar

The initial response was never to love

The initial response was never to seek fulfilment in any other accept the mission of what was laid out in front of me.

The initial structure of my being was not weakness

It was not acceptance

It was not ever crying or believing

Not to mention hoping…

I labelled my boxes years ago, the only difference is they burned.

I used their ashes to build myself a praying sand pit of sorts.

I guess I go there for restoration, because the ashes of what once was has more significance than the submissive visions of a future.

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Her eyes.

She lit her cigarette, I could only pause in all my beliefs and see that she was always the fraction of relief I felt safe enough to allow. Release
Release.

She uncaged all these long forgotten dreams.

Her hands touched me and played each memory.

Her body moved closer to me and I was reminded of how fond I am of playing her keys.

She raged at the notion of what could have been, what never was and never will be.

Her fists, she closed in anger without ever realizing it was only now a word away.

She turned the hands, winding it down back to when she still had the courage to face what was in front of her.

The minutes ran out and the seconds forced her to her knees.

She knew she could no longer control what would feed her peace.

Time had taken the measurements of her afflictions and cast them to her altar.

She could no longer escape the burrowed trenches of wrong calculated movements,

Wrong calculated environments and the ghosts she had to say goodbye to.

The realisation that she was no longer enough to forfeit the norms and the easiness was a concept she never could deal well with.

Saying what she meant and meaning what she said seemed more difficult by every touch of his hands.

Waiting could no longer be accepted as she knew he filled all the time in her absence.

She knew that with each memory, he would just be the kind hearted soul for her that she never was.

The fire burned , it smothered and it collapsed until finally she learned to no longer light matches out of ghosts she loved.

Safety and the norm made us all conform to the ideals of just being ok, Just being safe and in control.

I sat staring at her knowing she could draw the outlines of my entire being, But she would not be the one to colour it in.

I held on throughout her disappearance , throughout my self-destruction knowing I could not let go, even if all I had left was what she always wished she could have or be.

For now we pull apart the galaxy,

We will gaze upon the same stars and when the stars themselves start to fall we will use them to carve this longing deeper into our souls.

I always knew you’d make the most beautiful piece of art.