Numberless
Thoughts are tangible, malleable,
folding a place for your mind to live
within the confides of the home inside.
Moulding together your minds ideas
to mean something that no other mind could decode.
You are your minds worst nightmare,
a thing to control and manipulate an individual of thoughts,
an independent ideology creator who knows no bounds other than your head,
every nook, cranny, every crease.
Your mind weaves itself together
with numberless thoughts that populate the place you call your own.
You're your own minds worst enemy.
Uncontrollably controlling the mind that controls you.
You there, you are your own minds nightmare.
Match
One at a time.
Burn the things that begin to make you feel
like you aren't a cup overflowing and not half empty or half full.
One at a time you burn away those who make you feel like
your joy needs to be flown at half-mast for their benefit.
We burn them, one match at a time
from the box we keep to save ourselves.
One at a time we're going to ignite the shine,
let yourself light up, like the stars even behind the clouds
that we think cover them.
It's all about perspective.
They think we aren't burning,
they can think that we aren't going to shine
as if we weren't meant to,
the smokescreen of the joy we perpetuate
will be the clouds that mute our stars from their eyes.
We shine, we burn, we live and love,
one match at a time, we'll be.
Deaths
How many of us are whole? Us who claim joy and prosperity.
Us, the ones who fight and love in the light.
We, the ones who hate and cry in the dark.
We hole ourselves away, claiming to be whole yet becoming less and less.
Losing bits of the miniature souls we have left,
we smile, we move, we love, we hug and kiss, we embrace.
Us who claim to have died a thousand deaths
to become the person who stands before the rest, as a
whole person, without need of the validation’s others seek.
We smile, we love, we move, us who claim to be whole.
Die. One more time and rise like the Phoenix
through the ashes they continue to pile on your chest, rise.
Dive, like the rocks they chip off the cliffs of your integrity, dive.
Climb, through the cuts they etch on your liquid heart, climb.
Be whole, without the need to die more than we have already.
Live and be whole like the moon that shines dull but entirely true.
Pierce through the nights like the wolves who cry wolf.
Soar through the sky like the crow who cries murder.
Be, through the times of pain, the times of trying and finding peace.
Be. Free
© Uwais Coetzee
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Matric 2018
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