Tag Archives: author

#89: Dying Alone

“I cried when I realized he had lived his whole life a complete lie.”

© Aisha- Nicole 2015

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#87: Leftovers

I gave you my heart,

All of what was left of it,

I should have known better,

For now it’s worse,

Than what I started with

© Aisha-Nicole 2015

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#86: Sharp Tongues,

Sharp Tongues,

Today I saw a man die,

I saw words cut through his flesh,

I saw blood poured out,

As words infected blood lines,

And I watched closely,

As those called family,

Derailed his identity carelessly,

“sticks and bones they said”

I remembered the schoolyard rhyme

“but words will never hurt me”

 I wish those school yard kids,

 could see what I see

As I painfully stood witness,

To a man die slowly,

As sharp tongues with no remorse,

Willfully cut him deeply.

©Aisha-Nicole 2015

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#81: Unraveled.

Like re-watching a movie scene,

The revelation of the obvious,

the climax and then the fall,

The heartbreak,

and then the echo of a silenced soul

It’s an eerie feeling,

watching yourself unravel so quickly,

And to know,

exactly how the story goes.

© Aisha-Nicole 2015

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#79: Trouble & Troubled.

Troubled news makes for troubled knees,

Troubled knees give way to wobbly streets,

Dark alleys lead to mischief,

And empty souls all look the same,

Trouble starts with the words you say,

And calamity is her shadow.

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#78: V O I D

It’s my fault,

I made you a demigod,

I expected you to eradicate the pain,

I made you more than just what you are

I sacrificed on an open altar,

Hope, dreams and what was left of a battered heart–

Desiring some sort of closure,

I pinned you to cracked walls,

And worshiped,

Day and night,

I sought an answer,

And In the end I came up with nothing,

It’s not you, it’s me—

I looked to you for something you were never able to give

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#77: It mattered then-

It mattered then-

Every last word, every sentence,

But you hesitated, mocked it and let us shatter-

Now it’s too late and you’re trying to play catch up,

Throw hundred dollar bills to the one problem you could never sold,

Trying to form a friendship with a child, who’s already grown,

I look like you, move like you,

I even stutter the very same way you do, and you think it’s pure coincidence that I cock my head to the side at every question, listening intently-

I’m splitting image of you,

Full lips,

Dark skin,

My mother genes got lost in your stubbornness,

I’m the hard knock reminder of the night you,

Should have probably thought

Through,

You were you young and defiant-

Ambitious and charming-

But my birth was a casualty,

So you zipped, up and fled the scene-

I was born to a dead father—

Loved by a struggling mother and at 33 I was introduced to you—

You look nothing like the man in my dreams, your shorter, and your ears,

Are bigger, but you look like me,

It mattered then,

To a girls who’s one request was too,

Meet her father,

But today I’m 33

And I remember I was born to a dead father, and dead you shall remain.

©Aisha-Ndlovu 2014

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#66: My Childhood Imagination

There’s a war raging outside,

People are dying,

Identities have been abandoned,

And mothers are crying for children they used to know,

Love has long been banished and she’s been replaced with

Long years of winter, isolation and confusion,

Occasionally I hear the cries of a survivor,

The muffled steps of a child trying to find its home

And in the midst of it all,

I silently watch,

Let the world take its course,

And retreat to the one place that still feels safe,

The warm walls of my childhood imagination

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#65: Life Value

What is the value of life?

How do we determine the great and the easily forgotten?

Is it by accomplishments or likability?

Or is it by the sheer fact that they lived and were loved?

Life is here and gone tomorrow,

Just ask those that are laying in their graves

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#64: Hide and Seek

I showed you the most innocent part of me,

When I let you see the child in me.

©Aisha-Ndlovu 2014

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