Saturday, 21 February 2009

It has to be said

You who choose to end your lives yourselves:

When you leave
you leave behind broken people
you take with you a piece of us.
We will stumble for the rest of our lives
trying to find that fragment
and always slightly long for death
to be there reunited.

It has to be said.

Monday, 9 February 2009

American sentence

ate will always demand something in return for Tall, Dark and Handsome.

Saturday, 7 February 2009

Not named

strange sweet sadness haunts me these Saturdays.

Time alone in my head.

American sentence

have lost something, and when I know what it is then I will not be.

Random memory

Me, alone in a tiny granny flat in Potchefstroom. Listening to the rain pounding the parched earth like the sky was crying for her torn-apart soul.

The smell is always like a new beginning.