They Say, I Say

They say;

“Saying less is best”,

But those are just sentiments of the repressed.

The day-to-days of this world bottled up in their chest.

Horrors that leave them tossing and turning with no rest.

Inflicting pain on themselves, the only “plausible” escape.

A few slits on the wrist,

Vision starts to fade as her sight turns to mist.

Her life slowly slipping though her clinched fists.

Frustrations sitting comfortably on the shoulders.

If she survives,

Suffocation her next attempt.

They say;

“Love is for the weak,

An excuse for two people to meet”,

But those are just sentiments of people that need it most.

I’m talking about those that carry themselves like amphibians.

Cold-blooded when they speak.

As if ice was stuck between their teeth.

Wakes up every morning driven by greed.

More than two decades of existence and not a single good deed.

Hurting from lingering grief.

Reaching out to him deemed futile because he keeps conversations brief.

Only the walls he lives within know what he’s feeling.

Like gums when a toddler starts teething.

At his lowest, he wonders what the point of breathing is.

Alcohol his new found release.

Too rusty to fall in love.

Too many years spent without grease.

They say;

“Women are hard to please”.

As if anyone is ever easy to please.

With all our differences, we still the same.

Searching for passion to ignite.

By: | Nceba Thabethe |