They always love my inner thighs, My great big eyes, My skin so bright. They love to hold my delicate hand, See me as a brand, An object so grand. They love to take me away from here, It’s not so clear, It’s not so clear. I feel an injection, There won’t be confession, So he reaches his hand With no consideration. Down to a no-zone, A don’t-even-go zone, My red light apparently too dim, For he doesn’t see the bright tone. I’m feeling it enter me, The poison he so cleverly Slipped into my arm, Within seconds it hits me. I’ve lost all connection, All simple direction, I fall upon him, His grin becomes a sort of Devilish attention. I can no longer see now, Far from the crowd, He’s done it, succeeded, His friends would be so proud.
I can hear it daintily, Faintly surrounding me, The disconnect is drowning me, For it's the root of all my troubles.
I can see me falling down, Away from all your embrace now, Far from your sweet face now, I'm tumbling from this height.
I can feel your pillow lips, Against my cheek and my heart rips, For I cry each night and my tears drip As I feel you slip away.
I can smell you on my skin, From all those nights I'd let you in, From all those times of heavenly sin, I feel it’s your time to go.
I can taste blood in my mouth, My insides up, down, north and south. I’m breathing now with a heavy lung Because truthfully, When I’m with you, I forget who I was And the songs I once sung.
[georgia white]
Sometimes you talk to me As if I’m just your friend. As if you’re telling me how your life was before me, Just to remind me that I’m not enough and I never will be. You talk about her as if she’s still in your life, Is she? Is she still the World you’re revolving around? Will I ever be loved by you as much as you loved her?
False promises and tainted truths. That’s all I receive, All I’m forced to believe. You told me before she was your first and most powerful love, And I sat there and smiled, Sat there and dreamed that it would be us, We would be as inseparable as you two were.
If I reminded you of all the throw-away comments you say, Of my worries and my perception of you, We’d never stop fighting. You’d be crushed by my words. So since the first day that I met you, I’ve bit my tongue, And held back any negativity. Because, I feel we might just work out, But then again, I’ve never experienced anything like this before.
Maybe I am naive, Maybe this new experience, New world, Is all too much for me to handle, And love isn’t all I thought it would be.
You’re always going to feel it. It’s a never-ending gnaw at your will to live. As if you’ve lost grip on the rope of life, of all the twines of your journey that pulled you through the tragedies and the endless heartache. You feel as though your rope has snapped, as though something has chewed it thin until your left hanging from the strings of God, the ultimate puppeteer, and fighting for your life.
With all your might you try to climb back up to the top of that mountain to reach your ambitions, but instead you feel like you’ve cascaded towards the Earth.
You lose the motivation to climb back up, your frayed rope hangs above you with the sort of nostalgia you can’t shake, as if it’s laughing in your face and telling you that you aren’t at all brave. You aren’t strong.
Instead, you have to push past the feeling that you’re losing control — that others are racing past you in the sprint race to happiness. It’s all in your head, it’s all floating about that brain of yours that tells you you’re a failure. You didn’t pass that exam. You’re unloved. You don’t meet the standards of our still patriarchal society.
The only way to fully live in life is if you put in the same amount of effort that you wish life to give back to you. It’s a pull and push motion. God pulls our strings and calls us the actors of our own lives, with our every action and word presented in the movie that our narratives follow, our fate forever lingering about God’s manipulative hands. Our only job is to see where the wind takes us, where our life ends up without tampering with fate or destiny.
Nothing matters as much as you think it does, in reality everyone has good and bad days, and to ride the waves of this treacherous life you should cling on to the only thing that’ll save you: kindness, compassion and friendship.
Although a rope can never be unbroken, if you get on that stepladder, tie a new rope to the one you once had, and turn a new chapter in your life, you’ve reached the sort of person I’ve always wished to be. The sort of person that moves on with their life without completely relinquishing the chapters they once battled through, or the ones surrounding love that they wished to forget.
Strength is the foundation of our lives, the foundation of the ropes and strings of God. When our rope breaks, we feel defeated. But you can’t stay staring up at the distraught snapped rope all your life. Snatch it, control it. Reach the top of your climb and achieve goals no one has before, because this I feel is the real purpose of living.
No one has yet understood why we’re on this Earth, but it’s your chance to make use of the beautiful world we live in, and be free. This is the balance of life, and it should never be forgotten, not when we live on a sphere of water and land in a universe larger than we can comprehend.
Keep pushing past the feelings of self-doubt. I promise you, they aren’t worthy of your time.
March 25th 1927
Dearest Love,
I sincerely hope this writing finds its way to you in your next lifetime, and if it — or even I — shan’t find you, then believe this be my final goodbye.
I know now what i didn’t before, that you… you blessed soul, fallen from the skies as my angel on Earth, were different — different from the others. You were gentle and kind. You radiated a sort of… deep beauty and essence — yes — an essence that smelled so sweet, i could hardly keep myself away from it. And even now, locked up in this bedroom, well within my parents grasp, i find myself daydreaming, being whisked away by your strength and your courage. This paracosm i am living in, crammed within this tiny space i am forced to call home, is far from any mortal’s imagination. I feel i’m living my wildest dreams just thinking about you, and i now feel a breeze in this room, as though the four walls are breaking away and i am being freed from this travesty, ready to fall into your arms again. And although we were just 16, our love will live inside me for eternity.
I’m imagining you smiling, and me looking up into your chocolate-brown eyes that i’m sure have a whole world within them, and i wish i could venture in, never to return. I will always hope that you one day read this and come back to me. But, My Love, you have travelled so far down into the Earth by now that even a worm or a mole couldn’t reach you, not even if you were filled with grubs and nutrients and everything a creature needs, not even if you were a perfect piece of gold that miners were digging. It has been years since you have seen the sun. It misses you, i’m sure of it. It has not seen my face either since you passed, and i can see in my cracked mirror the whiteness sprawled across my face, like chalk or milled flour.
You creep into any story i read now, sometimes as a mere background character, or sometimes i see your face on the page, and run my delicate hands along the spine of the book and brush over the pages. Oh — i know you love my side stories and random respects, so i thought i’d also let you know that I recently picked up a book labeled ‘My beautiful wife’ that i found wedged at the back of my wardrobe, under a pile of father’s old work ties and my shredded school notes. It was dated back so far i was shocked its bones were not broken and its skin kept intact, but i knew the handwriting. It was similar to my father’s, but had that ‘je ne sais quoi’ to it. It had to have been my late grandfather’s!
I read it cover to cover, time and time again, until my eyes went sore and my fingers bled from the paper cuts. It was a short story, however lengthened by ink calligraphy illustrations of roses and tulips, and a singular repetitive female face, that one could suggest was of the narrator’s wife. His descriptions of her were so vivid that i imagined myself meeting her, as if she hadn’t died all those years before i was born.
I related so much to the story that even now tears are forming in my sunken eyes, as it reminded me of us. You and me. I loved and i lost, and my grandfather did the same. What a wicked place our world is, what a cruel, cruel time to live. That is why i’m a poet, a writer, a reader, even if i am just a woman. I’ve discovered so much about the world without having stepped one foot outside… that is… since the beacon of light in my life had been switched off…since you left. My grandfather’s book, beside every drawing of flower or face, was filled with poetry. Each poem linked together to form the story that was their love story, how my grandfather found his true love, and how he lost her so suddenly, just as i lost you.
I hope to be able to find you, just as my grandfather will find his ‘beautiful wife’ once again, in the land up above where songs are sung and new life is begun, and we can live forever together… just as one.
Goodbye, My Love
On the day i noticed his twinkling eyes, my world came crashing down. I’d seen him cry, shake, and shiver. His face pale as paper and his stare cold as ice. I bit my tongue to supress my feelings that had been bubbling deep in my gut for some time, but it was no use. Words came pouring out. Words i thought i’d never say came gushing like my tears, And i couldn’t hold back the waterfall. Couldn’t hold back the oceans and the waves that swept My Love away.
The guilt that then took over me was otherworldly. We were on two different planets entirely. You looked at me, with your tearful eyes, sparkling more than ever before, and you… you told me you were hurting. You told me the devil had a hold of my tongue, And i didn’t call for a saviour, But simply let myself be taken over by my insecurity, my jealousy, my rage.
Please, my boy, my sweet boy, don’t let my words ruin the light in your eyes. I’m terribly afraid to lose you. Don’t you know how close fear is to love? It’s inches, just inches, and i’m on the cusp. I’m on the edge of the line — the cliff — Calling your name, Begging for you, Dragging you down to the bottom of the pit with me.
I need you now more than ever before, while your tears run down your soft cheeks, still stained the cherry-red shade of my lipstick.
I know it’s selfish, but the words i said that day meant so much to me, that no gate or fence could keep hemmed in. I didn’t trust you, Ok? I’d been broken before and that piece of my heart taken from me years ago was never replaced, until i met you. I wasn’t ready for the piece to come loose again, So i pushed you away with my voice, And you choked at the word ‘untrustworthy’. It was almost as if it strangled you and tugged at your heart strings, Because the sadness that followed, As our eyes locked, Made me realise it was me all along.
It was I — I who saw the stars in your eyes and my World in your hands, that said these spiteful things. It was me who painted this God-awful image of you in my head, of a liar… a cheater… someone you could never be! And for what? For your despair and heartbreak? How could i be so brainless?
You’re the searchlight in my life, my beacon of hope and light and love. You light up my World and when i stare into your eyes, I feel like i’m floating. Floating away into bliss. It’s a shame i act the way i do, For i love you more than life itself. This is why, My Love, i’ve never stopped regretting that day. Never been so remorseful since I was so foolish, and forced tears from out of your gorgeous eyes. I’m sorry, and i hope you see that i’m trying to be better, a desperate endeavour to be someone you deserve.
(You deserve the World)
Georgia White.
Improbable love filled with doldrums and dungeons, stagnations and a heart cavity, Gleaming with rarity.
Hold me, Wrap around me, Smile deeply into me Let me see the flicker in your eyes, Let me in.
Breathing, Heavily, Rhythmically, Focused. With peace and tranquility I leave my heart open.
Missing piece, Two souls. Striving past the building blocks Through the gleam in your eyes Into the memories you hold Into your heart ache, Your warmth, Your brown eyes.
Deep. Rich. If I had one last coin I’d spend it on you. Even if my heart was broken in two I’d still let you come back to mend the damage. Withered. Dithered. Cold.
Dear Love, Seize my heart. Pull on the reigns you hold so tightly, Invite me. Don’t slacken your grip. Don’t let my heart rip.
Far throughout these lands, afar the desert sands, I discover new beings and souls, and realise it’s the ancient shoals. The ancient shoals of fish that shimmer, As I enter caves the light gets dimmer, Luminous algae blanket the water’s rise, And a whole new world opens up in front of my eyes.
He really is my safety rope, He holds my hand and helps me cope, His warming presence like a thousand hugs, He changed my life and changed my scope.
He holds my hand and helps me cope, His kiss as soft as I would hope, He changed my life and changed my scope, He simply breathes and I just smile.
His kiss as soft as I would hope, His mind is smart and emotionally woke, He simply breathes and I just smile, He could tell me to wait and I’d wait a while.
His mind is smart and emotionally woke, His aura is rich, his soul evokes, He could tell me to wait and I’d wait a while, His existence itself, my own safety rope.
