Internet Slave

Daddy never was around and mama used to struggle.
She never should have seen the things she seen when mama used to hustle.
Go through the things she went through for some food on a plate.
At times she would want to sacrifice a meal so mama didn't have to come home late.
The way mama sometimes looked at her, you could see that all the love she once had, had turned to hate.
Then one day mama looked at her and said, 'Baby girl, soon I'm going to need you to be brave."
Without no fault of her own, she became a victim. Life will take favours, but surely, life will never give them.
Her mama took her own, now baby girl is part of the system. She found refuge with her friends, but all of them not knowing what life would bring them.

Home after home, they bounced around. Never really stable, hostility was a normal sound.
It didn't help that her skin was the wrong kind of brown. She grew insecure and started hating every little thing about herself now.
All in all she grew around some abuse, she was at an age where she kind of understood.
She had seen a lot of things and grew wise enough and strong willed not to get involved with substance use.
Struggle is in the pudding and she is the proof.
No matter what she did, the dark void was endless,
But still she knew, life was not meant to end yet.
She didn't have much, one day browsing through the internet;
MK100 smallest bundle? That's some good money spent.
She started networking and connecting with people around the world,
all of a sudden she transformed into a popular girl. She finally had a voice, and what she enjoyed most, people listened when she had spoken.
Some how this filled some of the void, she didn't feel all that broken.
She met a few people, who made a few promises, she tried her best to not get too into this.
Although she didn't all that mind, I mean she was getting Facebook famous.
She could share her thoughts, she could make her statements.
She liked the likes, she liked the status.
Posted on her wall, she scrolling crazy, she's not usually like this, but she's been like this lately.
Changed her privacy settings, she's misbehaving.
She doesn't have a man, but she has a baby, her relationship status - 'it's complicated'.
She lost her substance, now all she posts about are the wild nights, the wild life that she enjoys,
Currently works at 'self-employed'
Phone is never on silent, she likes the noise, all the retweets and double taps from all these internet boys;
Winking face, love hearts and kiss emoji's. Bundle net upgrade, she's using 4G.
She hides her pain behind an IP Address, her phone buzzing like mosquitoes when she's on the net.
She's already scheduled her next tweet, she has it all set.
Guys in her DM's trying to internet flex, asking for some pics, they want internet sex, she said no to the wrong guy, they turned to internet threats. After all she had wanted to be internet's best, she had already lost everyone around her, it's only internet left...

400 posts and 10,000 followers. But when she logs off, nobody even knows of her.
She's burnt all her bridges, she lost touch of her real friends.
She doesn't know where to begin, or how to make amends.
Now she sitting thinking, 'what was the means to the end?'
All of the filters, reactions, the snap chats and PM's.
Right there is when she decides to change her ways.
No more parties and no more slays.
No more selfies and no more internet praise
She didn't realise she had actually got lost and became an internet slave.

She goes back to school, and starts focusing more on her and her son.
Leaves her old life and logs off. Those days are done!
It takes a while to settle and erase who she was
She doesn't want the likes, she starts to look for love
She gets tried and tested because everyone still thinks
'Just got to her profile, hit that link. She's the girl in the club drowning in that drink. She's the girl easier to tap than a kitchen sink.'
She rides out the whispers, she's determined for her own pay.
She gets out of it strong she has finally made her own way.
It's now been a few years and a couple of days.
She decides to log on and scrolls through memories she had let fade.
Realises what goes up on the internet, forever stays!

There Is No Message

It was the cold touch on my lips, when I grabbed his neck. It was the dripping, his taste, his smell... intoxicating..

He'd be there to celebrate; on every holiday, every special occasion. Everybody cheering, laughing and embracing the moments spent. I loved how everyone around me liked him as much as I did. Wherever we would go they'd ask for him too, we had to make sure he was always there. Take him on road trips, sneak him into school, sneak him into the cinemas, take him to every party and introduce him to everyone. We would even cancel other plans for him. I don't know what it was but, I thought I was addicted, indulging in the pleasures of the world, lost in the fantasy he had me in when we were together. Not a care in the world, even if it was just for the moment, it was our moments.

The way he could be ice cold against my lips and drip down my body, or be warm; with an intoxicating smile. I would accommodate him, whatever the case would be, I was always right next to him, he was right next to me. Sometimes I would wake up and find him, just there.. have me craving him when I was alone, when i had company, when we were bored or even entertained, we love his company. When he wasnt available we would make a plan to find him, invest having him as company. Even those who never started off liking him, would eventually warm up to his charm, entertain his presence and indulge in the humour that was him.

He approached me with a message, a message he has never told me. He's left me looking for this message, everytime we are together, he doesnt seem to share the message. Then, when its all set and done, like everything else in life, he leaves me; hurting, wounded, sick, never wanting to see him again. He leaves me with fevers, sweating, heavy heart beat, thirsty for more... or is it thirst for nothing at all? He leaves me wondering if the message is really worth seeking. Then... when I accept his absence, and I am back on my feet, he comes back, tempting, convincing, placing more curiosity about that message that has never been shared, never been found, never been told, still uncertain if it even exists.

He is a bad love, a destructive habit, an expensive relationship; time consuming, is it worth it? Why can't I go without that cold touch on my lips, the feel when i grabbed his neck, the dripping down the side of my mouth, the smell... the intoxication.. left wondering if Pierre even did send the message or will it forever be an empty bottle?!

War: The Late Virgins

Decisions never fitted, commitment never final. Kept thinking of the people, and how to get me viral. But because I wasn't ignorant, you kept my back, spinal and, that kept telling me that this was something final. But I would brush it off, dirt of the shoulder, now my heart is getting colder, I look in the mirror all I was doing, was getting older.

We're in a war, we all got to rig up. Given a gun called choice shooting when they tell me pull the trigger. Then I take a step back like, damn, this is my life. We're born into a battle where your souls the sacrifice. If I lose, I wanna die in the right fight so I turned to the Sergeant, and gave him what was mine. Now I'm geared up, shook fear off; had to buck up, wipe that tear off. Going to all the training, getting prepped for battle, not knowing my indecision made me a goat amongst the cattle, allowed the enemy to use me, whenever we would travel, so confused, I'm so cursed, I was troubled so much hassle! I was later past a manual and given a guide, thought I'd make it on my own and pushed them both aside. Convinced I was a hero, confused stupidity with pride, cause when I was fighting I never felt so alive.

Then some trooper came for help, I told him this was basic. Survival of the fittest you can make it out these mazes. BANG! BANG! BANG! Next thing I was at these shiny gates, I stopped in awe and thought, WOW, this is amazing. "I knew my fight would pay off, the Sarge is an honest man, he said whoever stayed loyal would make it to the promised land". Directed to this queue, waiting commendment for my duty, the closer I got, the stronger glory past right through me, had my head high, chest out, big smile and a glow to, I was next in line thinking the next place that I will go to. Then I could feel it all slipping, I felt a sense of struggle, the floors began to crack, the walls begun to crumble, I couldn't keep straight, I began to fall through, reached out to be saved, the voice said... 

I DON'T KNOW YOU...
WELCOME TO THE DARKEST PART OF THE BRIGHTEST MIND

Father Time

I never really understood you when I was younger. I never really noticed whether you were absent or not, but people said it mattered. I couldn't comprehend it. You always had people agitated, screaming like "AHHH Where have you gone?!" But without a doubt you would make your presence known; you would alwa

ys strike through the room and make that noise you make, every lunch time. 12 o'clock on the dot it was. Every day, with no fail just to remind us that you are still around. When I started going to school you would make sure I was awake early so I wouldn't be late and I wanted to beat you with a hammer sometimes, but I knew it was for my own good and I loved you for it.

I'd come home from school and rush to play outside. I would spend the whole day in the sun or in the mud, riding bikes and climbing trees; I'd never know where you would go, but next thing it was dark and you would let us know to call it a day. As I grew older I started losing track of you; I never paid any attention really. I was too caught up in the life of an adolescent. I would pray that some days you would slowly make your way because it always seemed that fun was over when you showed up. I knew that it meant I had to go home, but my friends and I had so much more to talk about.

Then I grew a little bit wiser and you became to matter. By then I was so far behind, I was left chasing you, and I could never seem to catch you. You always seemed so busy and just when I thought we had a moment to spend, you would keep moving. It irritated me, because I felt I would never catch up to you again. I thought I lost you for good. I started remembering when they would tell me "look at his hands", and I came to realise... not once did I ever feel you hold me.

As I really begun to understand the importance of you in my life you started flying, and I would never see you. Days would go by, and I would know you were there, even when you were not where I was. I started asking, I started getting curious and then they told me you were all about the money. Humph! I began to hate you! I started ignoring you when you tried to wake me up. But you never left my mind. Until today I think about you always, you have me running around in circles, I'm always running late and you don't seem to care. I wasn't interested anymore. I gave up on you, on life and decided to just wait, wait until it was over. Now I know whenever I would wait or delay you were passing me, but I was rebelling, I didn't care. 

But don't I regret it? I kept thinking I would always have you around and then I heard you were going coo-coo. Now I wonder if you got it in you to last one more day because you are starting to seem ancient, I used to tease that you were an antique.

That's when everybody now started thinking back on you, reminiscing on the good you, and  then we remembered you now. I shake my head as they fight over you, "He's mine!" "NO! He's MINE" by now I understand you, I just hold them and tell them, "No.... he's Hours..."

Father time

The Pain, The Spark and The Pen

It all started with a Pain in the chest, a Spark in the mind and a Pen in my hand.

That Pain; it sat like a burden in my heart. It would make me sick in the pit of my stomach, right at the bottom where you couldn't even reach it. That Pain; like a sick child, who just didn't want help, no matter what. That Pain accepted life and said, "this is what I was brought into and this is what I will be." That Pain; chose my heart as a home, covered itself with my chest and would feed off of my love. That Pain that would hurt so bad, I hated it. It tormented me and raged me but... if I released it, where would it go? who would know it ever existed? would it just roam until it found another heart to break? That Pain, was safer inside. So The Body made a home for Pain, but now what? Something had to try discipline it, had to try contain it, make sure it never reigned. *light bulb moment* The first Spark. That, that there was the first Spark. The mind, was a room to the Spark we call mother; the one with solutions, the one who reacted and responded from a child's action without even being summoned. However, no matter how big a Spark, it needs a partner, one that will implement the Spark. But who? There was nothing, just That Spark.

That Spark; was like a nurturing mother, stressing about how to feed a hungry child. Every time That Pain got worse, the mind would Spark brighter, but there was no answers. That Spark, fiending for someone to notice that it needs help. Like a single mother needs a husband; like every child needs a father. That Spark; crying and screaming in the mind; like a mother in her room on the hardest day, with That Pain; her sick child in the basement of the heart. Held captive to its own burdens that she didn't even bare. Bad fruit that was planted and grew out of the love of That Spark. But that love wasn't being watered. That Pain in my chest grew stronger and more powerful and as it got older, overpowered the house; the mind; That Spark. Pain had nobody, and that body that held him, that heart that fed him, that mind that would comfort him; That Pain controlled it. Now That Pain feeling tough like it had somebody. No. Pain was My Body.

That Spark would keep coming, but That Pain would block it, "STOP!" That Pain would be furious that That Spark wanted a way out. This started making That Pain rebellious. As That Pain was reaching adolescence it would turn to anger and control the body and throw itself into tantrums filled with rage; a terrorist. That Pain would control all the hormones and make them explode. That Pain had an army that made anybody fearful, That Pain was now King. Until one day, while Pain was asleep the hormones that had gone to war with the world came home, That Spark was free to roam for a while and decided to pick up a pen. Not any pen, no; That Pen.

That Pen; so helpless and useless without the body, just an inanimate object, but when That Spark told the body pick it up; I could feel blood rushing back into dry veins. There was magic, there was a connection. That Pen. It felt like an answer to all the solutions; like a beautiful end to a tragic beginning, it felt like a way out, it felt like... THE way out. The exit to the dark tunnel that That Spark had been looking for, that That Spark hid in the beginning just to keep Pain safe. A Pen in my hand.

That Pen in my hand caused thoughts from the Spark to intersect and manoeuvre, trying to get, no longer to the tip of my tongue, but the veins of my hand. Which would allow these thoughts to turn to words; written; marked; stained. All that stress of not knowing where Pain would go, where Pain would live, and who would know if Pain even existed could now find out. Exhausted of being spoken and forgotten or not heard, they needed permanence, something that proved they were worthy, that maybe, not today. but one day. just one, That Pain wouldn't roam free, That Pain wouldn't hurt no more, but be proof that it lived and it left a mark. A mark of ink.

That Pain woke up instantly when it sensed an exit, a way out, something that That Spark was up to... something without its permission. as That Spark started learning the power of the Pen, That Pain raged and started rushing through, organs, trying to find the vein; flowing out and spilling out on to a clean blank page as ink. Never to be removed, never to be forgotten, to forever leave a scar.

All by picking up That Pen.
WELCOME TO THE DARKEST PART OF THE BRIGHTEST MIND