At the end of the day, really are just words.
They cannot fully articulate how one feels.
They’re there to helps us get through things.
To give a name to what whatever you’re feeling.
To attempt to make others understand, sympathise and even empathise.
They cannot stop you from thinking, feeling and wishing it wasn’t so.
Worst of all, they cannot undo.
November 6, 2013 at 11:02am
I love the way people’s faces distort when they are truly laughing from the heart.
1. I walked in on @Hlumz taking selfies. 2. We thought we looked cute in our pj’s, turned on the camera and realised how wrong we were. 3. @zinzipoo started taking pictures of me sleeping. That’s the moment I woke up. 4. Laugh at yourself.
Do I make myself clear
When I say that I’m
Mad over you
You make me feel like I’m
On top of a thousand hills
You do that right
Baby you’re my light
You’re my sky blue
You make me free
Come, let’s make a tribe
maybe in time
we’ll make it right
We should be flying high
This time will pass
We won’t be here for long
I prayed the void would overflow
Made it my mission to find you
This time I did it too
Life is much sweeter
Yes it is true
Since you came by here
I made it through the lean and mean
Now it’s better
With you’s better
‘it’s not him who’d come across the sea to surprise you, not him who would know where in london to find you’ - feist
- how far have you walked for men who’ve never held your feet in their laps?
- how often have you bartered with bone, only to sell yourself short?
- why do you find…
not wanting me.
the beginning of me.
the hurt, nayyirah waheed (via nayyirahwaheed)
a girl..with eyes deep enough to stand in, convictions strong enough to stand on. i’m finding the mercy of God right where i’m standing and it’s binding, it’s blinding, it’s forgiveness, but most of all it’s mine.
— Alysia Harris (via thehazelnuttt)
September 2, 2013 at 8:28am
Chat to me on Babblr! Tumblr finally has instant chat! You won’t believe how cool it is! Add Babblr to your dashboard here: http://babblr.me/?bb_ref=share_bblr_main
I have chosen to delete all of my poems
Well, not all, but most.
Why? Because some people are mean, uncreative thieves. Intellectual property theft has been a topic that has been coming up rather often lately “with some of my artsy friends ooh-wee-ooh-wee-ooh.” It’s been playing on my mind even more since I started my 30 Day Poem Challenge. It’s simple really, people will steal your shit and claim it as their own. If not, they will use it to make money and not give you a single cent or the credit you deserve.
My poetry is as important to me as breathing. It’s my life source. It’s that shit that keeps me sane. And I have been feeling very uneasy about the position in which I put my art when I post it all willy-nilly sans copyright. So, I have deleted most of it, because like my mother has always protected me, I need to protect my baby.
I’ll figure out a new way to share my poetry with you guys. If you have any suggestions or comments, shoot.
Peace, gentle soldiers.
Anonymous asked: Ur recent poems have been incredible pieces each day I want more I can relate to "own ur pain" its like my feelings onto paper , also loved the poem about ur nose ring I'm guessing u got it for the wrong reasons @the time wat about now wld u say ur @ a great place? Without saying 2 much I've learnt matters of the heart r sacred just curious really , either way u seem like a lovely person n I wish u well both personally n professionally (mary jane gin and all)
Yep, I am in a much better place :) You are lovely. Thank you.
Mary-Jane Gin will be performing tomorrow.
I’m excited for this one. I love art, and it’s beautiful that we’ll be part of something that supports women in the arts.
Short notice, but it would be great to se you there.
Before we begin, I want you to understand that I’m not perfect either,
So if you start feeling the need to hold the truth back, please don’t.
Also, this is only a game so if you get tired, we can take a breather..
And please don’t think I’d go reveal all your secrets because I won’t.
What is my…
youfeelingwoozyyet asked: Please check out my poems on my blog and let me know what you think! I follow back. Twitter: @Woozz_
August 12, 2013 at 12:05pm
Holding hands through Christ
I lay my hand upon yours. Each finger a healing tool to bring back that smile we’ve missed these past few Sundays. You walk into church gliding, each step moving your body closer to your seat for praising God. Each hair in place, and lipstick perfect. But your heart sinks. Sister, we miss your smile.
I wrap my arms around you. Hoping my heartbeat will remind you that you are alive. You walk into church, shoulders down and eyes to the ground. Suit perfectly tailored and shoes beautifully shined. But your mind wanders, how will I make it through yet another month. Brother, we miss your joy.
- Nwabisa Tolom 12/30 (12 August 2013)
Setting yourself up for pain
When you set yourself up for pain, after you’ve spent the whole day avoiding it, and you know what the outcome is going to be. But every fibre of your existence is telling you to pick up the phone and call. And when he doesn’t answer, every fibre of your existence tells you to pick up the phone and text. And when he doesn’t reply, just as you expected, every fibre of your existence tells you to text again. My parents taught me everything, but this nobody can ever prepare you for. I wish there was a universal formula, a toolkit that showed me how to make it go away.
- Nwabisa Tolom (11/30)
Lipstick, pyjamas and a headboard (@hlumz)
To my friend
I remember our friendship with these three things when these three tears start to drop. Always two on the left and one on the right. Each one glistening under the gaze of my lamp light. You taught me to cry but always made me laugh, with each smile drying each tear, you made my happiness draw near. I love every part of you, even your feet that you hate so much.
You leave pink stains on the white pillow,
I leave red stains on mine.
I don’t remember getting home last night
But I remember it was fun.
Stain on my shirt. Cut on my finger and a dent in my car.
I can’t remember how it all happened
But I remember it was fun.
“Who drove home last night?” you whisper as I roll over to face the window
I pause, let out a loud laugh, “I have no fucking idea!”
We don’t remember who drove.
But we giggle about how we remember it was fun.
Pyjamas and headboard to follow - Nwabisa Tolom (9/30)