This is a piece for the hopeless romantics who have had love leave them hopeless in the arms of still born infants of romance, this is for you- for us.
Love’s addictive pearly dessert
Love haunts her, it haunts her with its ghostly shadow after another failed attempt at its promises. The further she runs, the quicker it catches up with her. The more she lets go, the tighter the grip gets. Even in the scars and bruises of this ironically heartless war, I find myself in love’s arms soaked in his embrace at the finish line. She wants to be free and left alone by love’s stench, to be totally freed from it but she is held captive by its woes and uncertainty.
Certainty in his love is not a constant so while certainty is humanity’s comfort but seldom exists, it has always seldom existed in the walls of his love so it quickly becomes an enemy and liability instead the magic it should be.
She battles daily, bathes in pain in all its glory and at some point stops running and give into her foe and friend. Addicted to past’s pain, she can’t help but feel like she is going insane in vain. While other folks are getting high on trees, blowing smoke to rid the yoke, she craves the yoke as she lives on the emotional high with every fibre in her jerking body and again tonight she will go on a flight of pain reaching heights that the everyday man would fall under paralysis under.
While others work past pain, she walks right into it. She dwells in its waters pampered its red and black ink that permanently scars her mind.
In the midst of all this doping and foaming, I am hoping that you will come to me holding a blank canvas to paint me a pain free tomorrow loved one…
Bwana Asifiwe 