The little girl who was always tired

Things were never the same. Time seemed slower, and she felt much less aware of everything. Often she would stare at the clock, willing the hands to move and prove to her that she was still alive. They would always move, eventually. Minutes passed like hours. Often she would fall asleep in the middle of the day, or wonder if she had fallen asleep. She hardly moved or spoke or ate, and she was always cold.She always seemed to be waiting. Sometimes it was hard to account for hours that had passed. There was a heaviness. She wished she could just evaporate. Maybe the emptiness already made her feel like she already was...

THE REAPER

THE REAPER

A monologue
by Azelia Nathan


I have been unjustly accused. Cursed everywhere I go. I walk a lonely path. I am despised, deeply hated, by almost everyone. I am readily held responsible for some of the most unimaginable, excruciating things experienced by communities, families, and lovers. I am misunderstood. Shunned. They pin the crimes of others on me. I take the blame for their crimes of stupidity, and the crimes of fate, and the crimes of self abuse, and sometimes, even crimes of suicide. They say I am the enemy. The enemy of hope. The enemy of love. The irony is that I happen to be friends of both. Like a soldier at war, I have a duty to honour. In fact, like everyone else... perhaps even like you. I perform the same task day in and day out. I am just a necessary, if not more necessary, than the men who clean out your garbage every Sunday morning before the sunrise. Its funny how when it comes down to it, we perform the same core function. Although, if I am the garbage man, what does that make you? Do you blame him that you peeled a banana and have thrown out the peel? Is he scorned for taking it to where it is supposed to be?


I have been falsely accused. I have been denied the world you so easily take for granted. Did you know, I’ve never seen a wedding, never seen the light, the joy, that radiates from the eyes of a lover; only grief, only the last lingering moments at the tail end of a life.I only see the aftermath, the despair, the loneliness. I’ve watched the eyes of a person, slowly empty of prayer and hope, and fill with desperation and horror while they watch their lover fade away, in a cold hospital bed. I’ve stood witness to innocent children, shaking their parents, choking on their tears, begging for them to wake up, too young to comprehend the image of a blood stained body, and yet even they understand me, they know death when they see it. Their pleas will ring in my ears for iternity. What irony, that ones so young, that they could not understand a lover’s kiss, yet ,they know me. I’ve only ever witnessed one birth. A tragic one. I remember thinking how her tiny ears were robbed of ever hearing her mothers heart beat. And she ever would hear it. Her birth was not accompanied by joy, but greif and sorrow. She was whisked into another room, while everyone else wept at her mothers feet.

What do I know of food? I know what it is to watch your pet choke to death on a bone; I know what it is to scream silently in desperation as your face turns a shade of purple, your eyes dialating, and eventually having everything fade into a horrifying darkness. I know nothing of love, all I know is what it is to lose love in the most horrific, heart wrenching fashions. And sex does nothing but disgust me; the terrible, echoing cries for help, shrieks of helpless from thousands of raped women, and sometimes, raped children, whos cries pierce my soul like a dagger. Every time I close my eyes I can see the life slipping from theirs, the horror reflected by them, their last experience in life, now moving pictures in my head. For years and years they’ve played..

Through everything I’ve witnessed I will tell you the most beautiful thing I’ve seen. I was called into a house, I entered the bedroom and I saw an old woman lying in the arms of her husband. They looked up at me when I entered and smiled and she said, “We’ve been waiting for you.” And then they turned to one another, and they kissed each other, and then I took them both. The closest thing I have ever come to experiencing love was witnessing the sparkle in their eyes when they looked at one another, that sparkle still shines, a tiny light in the darkness. Even Death has hope, hope of freezing another moment of love in time, and perhaps this time I’ll understand what love is. I am Death, I come to you all. Without me, Life could never be reborn. It would linger and stagnate. I am the effect not the cause. Yes I have come but not of my own will, I am as trapped as the souls who call me.It really should be me who hates you.

Dedicated to the insane.

Swollen eyes, he grinds his teeth while pulling at his hair,
Whilst cowering in a dark corner in a fit of despair.
Thoughts racing, heart beating faster than it should,
Opiated himself more than he ever thought he could.
-
Paranoid to no end with lack of oxytosin,
It only gets worse without his share of serotonin.
Receptors fucked and agitation rising like a tower,
Sweating like a godfucked pig, hour after hour.
-
Lonely, broke and jobless, he stares at the horizon,
A sign of freedom in contrast to his psychosis - an endless prison.
The rainbows and the clouds have all forsaken him to the edge
Of his limit and now he's about to step off that inviting ledge.
-
Nobody understands him, those insiduous bastards of annoyance,
Have raped him with their pretencious intensions and fucked with his tolerance.
To what end is he meant to stubbornly keep himself ostracized,
An anti-social masochist, ripped apart and self-victimzed.
-
The music helped - oh yes it did, so very long ago.
But that was before the pains inside had threatened to kill him slow.
A neurotic fragment of what he was, he can't go on like this,
Perpetually ripping apart innocent souls, sadistically he calls it bliss.
-
A self-induced plague of hedonistic fate,
He'd like to gauge your eyes out and lay them on a plate.
And skullfuck you, imaple you and stab his dick right through you,
You'd wish you knew, how the fuck he knew, when exactly and how to break you.
-
Paralyzed in hallucination of endless fucking slaughter,
the beast in him craves for sodomistic slaughter.
It lay forgotten how this automated and led to endless sorrow,
Continual pain, his demons unslain, there's always more for the morrow.

Victory Lap

im the short one in red.

The Unsexy

A few months ago, Belinda and i wanted to write a poem about making love and passion... We were brainstorming the elements that should be in the poem. Eventually, like all things we did in my short months in the convent, this happened.

it was getting very late,

He walked me to his gate;

His tie was out of date,

He whispered "Lets Mate";

I knew i should have opted to masturbate.

-

We inched into the closet like room,

He was marinated in cheap perfume;

He Leaned in for my lips, but kissed the broom,

Then he said, my ears were like the moon.

-

I felt like such a useless goon,

His back was hairy like a baboon,

I wished i could hit Zoom..

But, he promised he'd get a hard on soon.

-

He Haphazardly peeled off my lace,

i saw all the acne on his face;

I wished his fingers were at the right place;

He seemed to be moving at a petty pace.

-

He struggled to unhook my bra,

he pulled a condom from a yellow jar;

For some reason, he was calling me Sacha..

It was too late to run back to the car,

why did he have to park so fucking far?

i wanted to hit him with a crowbar;

I noticed his tatoo which said "made in india"

-

Something smelled of rotten cheese,

then i realised it was the wind he released;

i was asking God, "Take me now, please!"

He thought i was talking to him and said-

"get down on your knees".

I wanted a guy who called me beautiful...but not too often...

i got a guy who calls me His...

i wanted a guy who called me back when i hung up on him..

i got a guy who tells me he's right outside my house when i hang up on him...

i wanted a guy that would stay awake just to watch me sleep..

i got a guy who promised me we'll fall asleep together every night someday....

i wanted a guy that whispers " that's her" to his friends when i walk by..

i got a guy that runs up to me and hugs me when i walk by...

i wanted a guy who was still crazy about me a Month or two down the road...

i got a guy who's still crazy about me Two Years down the road..

i wanted that guy that'll hold me close when i cry...

i got a guy that holds me close and makes me laugh through my tears.

i wanted a guy that isn't afraid to hold my hand in front of his friends..

i Got a guy who isn't afraid to hug me in front of his friends..

i wanted a guy who would throw pebbles at my window at night...because me misses me..

I Got a Guy who throws pebbles at my window after a big fight ...because he needs me...

i wanted a guy that missed me enough to call me every night when i changed schools...

I got a guy who missed me enough to walk to my house in the middle of the night to see me when i changed schools..

a guy that made my heart beat faster and slower at the same time..

i got that... and I got a guy who's heart beats faster for me...

I wanted a guy who always awaits my text reply....
I got a Guy who saves my Text messages just to look at when he misses me..

a guy that kisses me and tells me he cares...

I love it when we're right in the middle of a kiss and i can feel him smiling..

Black and White Rainbows

If you've hung out with Sonia Rachel and me... This scenario shouldn't exactly be Alien to you...

Sonia: its Pink..
Azelia:no, its not pink... its Red-violet...
Sonia: AZelia!! stop trying to relate everything to purple just coz' u like it
Rachel:She'll never admit smthn is pink...

Truth be told, i have an indecent obsession when in comes to colours..... I aslo have a great love for music, and am rarely seen without my ipod around my neck. Being lifeless (grounded), i decided to look this up. Sure enough- i found an interesting article that states Rainbows and music are made of the same stuff just vibrating at a different frequency.

Im of the opinion, when you appreciate colour, you would also appreciate all creation. And, ONLY when it comes to colours- i am a perfectionist. But, Why? Well...perhaps I'm one who finds one of the scariest nightmares to be the one when i lived in a world of black and white rainbows.

Here are some facts that you probably didnt know about colours...

• White alone has 7 distict shades.

• 69 % of people who's favorite colour belongs in the Cyan family think its blue... (thats about as wrong as saying they love red. To me at least) and another 29% think it belongs in the green family.

• Only 14% of the wolrds population knows the exact name of their favorite colour.

• Yellow and black has been proven to be the two most contrasting colours on earth.

• What we see, feel, hear, taste and smell exists between the frequencies of red and violet

• In a study by University of Washington in Louisville, people with red hair are more susceptible to pain and they need more anesthesia during an operation than people with other hair colour. Scientists explained that people with red hair have defective receptors that affect brain cells and influence pain sensitivity.

• babies tend to cry more in yellow rooms

• Leonardo da Vinci believed that the power of meditation increases 10 times when done in a purple light, as in the purple light of stained glass.

• the human eye detects 10 million different colours

• Ingesting small doses of ink over an extended period of time will change your eye color slightly

Below is an elightening chart on base colours, their various shades and their layman names...click on it.

(click it again with the magnifying glass to enlarge)

Dont take the rainbow for granted. Take the time to appreciate it.