Occam’s Razor

Some people never go crazy
Her demons were never really demons
Her words were directed to no one
But she knew who they were for
They were 13 lines of repressed pain
Thoughts of hunger and war
Saltiness at the tip of her knuckles
She wrote about her battles with nature
Her fight against inferiority
Hers were tears not from all the anger held within
But the forecast of future torments
She didn’t care if she died in battle
She just wanted justice for her children she hadn’t yet conceived
Who would speak for the voiceless?
Her body was just a piece of meat
Meant only for devouring by her predators
Who she was taught in highschool biology that they belonged to her species
So she didn’t understand why they chose her as prey
Some people never go crazy
Toy soldiers were always seen as more serious
Her thighs were owned by her neighbour
Her mouth, by the police officer who was supposed to provide a haven
Her breasts were constantly kidnapped by the pastor who she asked prayer from
Her only solace was that it would all end soon
They could do what they wanted with her body after she’d left it
So she fought one last time for her unborn babies
She watched with a smile through the pain as the last few trickles of blood poured from her wrist
She had won the battle
No child of hers would ever go through this
Some people never go crazy
Her words were directed to no one
So why did it feel like her blood spelt out my name
I was surely not the first priest that looked away
Not everyone was meant to be a good Samaritan
Maybe washing my hands had no effect
I already had a blood bath

Paternity

I used to be scared of everyone else
I’d hide my fears behind poetry
These days, I’ve learnt to hide behind my fears
And to be the anonymous warrior in the barns
Afraid of coming out. Too scared to let anyone help
The world is an ocean
How do you keep from drowning?
Some days, I pretend to be someone else
And get scared I’d forget who I am
But you see, I’m nobody
So what risk is there in losing anything?
Maybe Jesus was black
Maybe God has dreads
Maybe reality isn’t everything they’ve told us it is
I’m scared one day I wouldn’t wake up
I wake up some days wanting to be everything but me
Uncertainty is sometimes better than knowledge
So I thrive in my ignorance
Unashamed of not knowing
Cos even though I’m in the dark
That is what my skin tone is
I was taught to see a girl as nothing but a tunnel
A route for my oversized train load to wreck
A drawing board, with a two colour restriction
Black and blue
So those are the only shades I know how to paint her
Some days I want to apologize for all my havoc
But men never show emotions
I’m not an extra large terrorising predator
I live in a jungle
But we’re all scared preys here
I’m just more scared of everybody else

Pilot

I’ve been staying awake all night wondering how I should tell you
Have you ever wondered whether each colour has a special sound?
Like if you could hear them speak?
My first girlfriend was lilac
She never stopped babbling about how depressed she was
How every night seemed like armageddon
And she could hear voices in the hallway to the kitchen
I convinced her everything was fine
She asked me how fine I still thought everything would be, the day I broke up with her
I proved her fears right. She never survived her fright
My mom is golden
She makes perfection look as easy as breathing
She reads the Bible more than priests even
My dad is amber even though he tries to fight it
My favourite high school teacher, Obi, was violet
I am brown
The shade of the earth, and the stones are my crown
But you, you are grey, or at least your face is
A mix of black and white
Your smile is confusing, because I see tears in your eyes
Your breasts are orange
They tell me how imperfect they are
Your eyes are yellow; no, you’re not jaundiced
Your belly is red
It screams danger
It draws back each time I try to kiss it, telling me to stay away
Your palm is green, green with envy
Your knees and elbows are indigo
Those are the only places I try to touch and you let me
You are beautiful
Not defined by the screams each colour on your skin shrieks
You make perfection look as easy as breathing
To a dead man
I see you as blue
The colour of the skies
And I want to be a pilot and fly all day
So I never leave your space
Let me inhale some of you
And keep my doctors in dilemma
Make them think I’m cyanotic
When the only medical condition I have, is my love for you.