Image: Mwangi Gatheca for Unsplash |
I know what it’s like being in your head.
Dark, cold, happy.
I know what it’s like being in your soul.
Lit, warm, dead.
I know, what it’s like to see right through your eyes.
Because we’re both blind to a reality
where I had to sail across seas to find you, sinbad.
Heh, see I know that you’re scared.
You’re frightened by the waves and how much they’ve
Caught you, drowned you and made you lost, captain.
Where’s the depth of the deep, within the darkness of
The shadows and the castles you built so steep?
What happened to the kid who learned how to ride a bike,
The one who stained himself with dirt, the one who cried.
Not because of pain but because of attention.
Now you shed less tears and carry more hurt, you speak your heart less and feel your thoughts more.
Where’s the child, this silver tongue, the one I know?
Is he lost, is he dead, is he out with the figures cast by the light in a
Dark room?
Who knows the captain and his crew?
I know you, I know how your head is spinning like the compass in your possession.
I know you, I know that you still see the greater good to all of this.
You’re in a wilderness of waters in an island of your soul,
Within the very fortress you built to keep you, out of my reach.
Why can’t you see I won’t leave?
Why can’t you see I won’t stop?
Why can’t you see that we both,
us,
together,
aren’t whole in our separate individualities.
Of a puzzle, pieces.
Still to be like the triskellion,
One-half of each other, we both are our own trinity
Forging each other like lakes of hot coal in a shed of iron
How much more, how much farther my Lord?
But I am your Lord and you are my servant
As you are my Lord, for I am your servant!
Incomplete without the other, Ingenious if we stand together
You must be kidding me, how are you a parent?
Why is it so apparent, you must be really virtual
I must be really stupid, you are so many things
I’ve come to sit with Kings. How come you sit with me?
I have the crown on me, but you wear me on you.
You… Have got to be lost. How come you call me home?
When I don’t want to answer, when I can’t accommodate you
Even if I do give directions, how come I’m North
Why do you look up to me?
Simply put, I’m the very piece of you that went missing inside you.
If you’re going to bleed me, cut your heart, we’ll die faster.
After all it’s the same grave but not the same grounds.
Your heart’s a safe place but not a safe house
In the end, you’re my end:
Pitiful.
Othy
8 Comments
Shishie. Wo hen gaoxing.
Means thank you. I'm very happy
Oh my…her highness. Your knight is honoured
Mami. Gracias
Marlene. Thank you so much
Awesome piece��
Othniel it was engaging and lovely��
Really beautiful son! ❤
The pen is like a sword in your hand. Beautiful piece indeed