It is never easy,
spotting the red flags,
amidst the intense joy,
and very high highs
of exploring a new partner.
A mind is filled with thoughts.
Like a seesaw, it tips
Left, right, left, right
Stay, go, stay, go.
You know what this is
You know it all too well
It’s the sane thing to do.
Protect your energy.
It’s too early,
can’t call it emotional abuse yet.
She’s had it tough.
Been going through a lot.
She makes my thighs tremble.
Uses her mouth,
to gift me delicious orgasms.
All day and most nights,
a mind is riddled.
Visions of pure bliss,
denial of one’s true emotions.
Friends who won’t return calls-
being too exhausted,
not wanting to hear about her
Yet still too good to give up.
A mind is filled with thoughts.
That multiply and take over.
A mind is tired.
Zimbabwean born artist, ibizo lami, uses multiple mediums to celebrate their personal experiences and identity. They are a poet and visual artist. Some core themes in their work are their motivation for positive mental health and self-care.
How to confuse your Daemons:
List your choices against numeric encodes.
Cut the paper to pieces and make a mosaic,
Slowly chew on each part, sip soda
To wash them down. Let them slosh on an ocean
Between continents of turmoil and insecurities, they’ll come
Upon the shores of your inner diocese,
Those who survive. Those who survived the noise
Of the seas will stand tall like comedians
Make you grin. It’s not choice by dice
But choice by your own demons.
If asked Stephen Walrond (@mertle8 on Instagram) would tell you he’s only been writing for a few years, performing far fewer. He’d say he does it for the love of form, and is inspired by the talented performers he sees baring their souls through this art.
You shed your feelings like fur at my feet,
the stars seemed blinding, but they were just reflecting the glint of your teeth.
You smiled at me, knew I was alone,
afraid of my path. You flung yourself before me- limping as if you were a rabbit,
you told me they had taken your lucky foot.
The light was drained from your eyes- you chose to show me a boy hurt, who wanted to heal, you asked me if a
monster could possibly feel, said your heartbeat was quickening in pace, when you saw the aspect of my face.
Ice melted, the climate changed- you took my hand and led me astray.
The choice was mine
and I chose to stay,
led away, you promised me things, I was naive to believe, a castle of gold, a locket, a trove of a abundant
As the words dripped from your lips, like treacle in a jug, you buttered me up
sat down to eat,
a feast of all feasts,
you chose to consume all you could chew- then threw up.
All in a daze I wasted away, as you stole from my plate- decided I was undeserving of a single serving- your
choice was to let me wither and break.
Bones brittle and frail, you fought as I flailed
ferocious, ferocious, ferocious you licked your lips in lascivious fury and gobbled me up.
Animal, rabid, ravenous, blood dripped from your mouth, crimson stains of what remained.
You chose to weep, not feeling anything, simply mirroring what you had seen.
You looked below,
the remnants of what you had chosen to do- you blew out the candles, so darkness ensued, tried to kill all the
monsters before I came to.
I saw you.
A beast in a cage, who had bought his own chain, you held out your hand and shackled me to you.
You sent down a hail, thunder echoed in the room, as we surrendered to our unavoidable doom.
My pain, unspeakable, you rendered me mute, but you lost your voice just as soon.
You chose to hurt me, never to know it would hurt you too.
Saleha is a poet from Slough. With influences from Gothic literature and Romantic poetry she hopes to aquaint tradition with modern life in her writing. Being in her early 20s, Saleha uses poetry to help navigate her experiences; in sharing them she finds catharsis and hopes you do too.