We both know I failed to protect your heart,
We both know I’m not what you need,
I was never good at using my words,
But I hope you find the happiness I took from you
Keep reading
To Scooby
YOU ARE THE REASON
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@true-seraph-blog
We both know I failed to protect your heart,
We both know I’m not what you need,
I was never good at using my words,
But I hope you find the happiness I took from you
Keep reading
To Scooby
did you know?
for just $0.00 a day you can provide me with Attention
Hello “Real” African
I greet you, oh most authentic of them all, and wonder if I may ask you a few questions, maybe then I might learn how to be a “real” african.
You’ve said to me, more times than I care to remember, that I need a little something extra to make my body a “real” African one… “Perhaps if you had a bigger bum, you would look ‘more’ African”, “missus”, “o fedile”, “seshwapa”, “waas plank”…all of these I’ve heard time and again from a “real” African.
You’ve said to me, too many times than I could count, that my accent, when speaking English, is not that of a “real” African… “Snob”, “coconut”, “lekgowa”…all these terms have been “endearments” I’ve been dubbed with at one point and another.
You’ve said to me, yesterday and today, that my mannerisms are not that of a “real” African, because I am not comfortable in a shebeen, because you’ve seen me eat sushi, because I would not normally go to a township for the hell of it, because I do not speak or completely understand tsotsitaal, because I do not own a pair of converse sneakers…
These “real” Africans have no face really, they’ve been family, friends, class mates and even acquaintances. So allow me to ask you a few questions please.
1. Where do you get the audacity to think you can form an opinion and then proceed to TELL me that I am not an African, a child of the soil, because I don’t have a big bum?
Are we made Africans because we have behinds? Is it a requirement and fact that without a bum, then a person is null and void of being an African? Do you consider it a mistake that I was gifted with melanin skin? Are you saying that the rear is the reason that I should be given a stamp of approval by “real” Africans?…
2. How is my ability to speak another language a reflection on my being an African?
Are you saying that we are incapable of learning the English language properly and speaking it fluently? Are you saying that I should speak with a deliberate drawl/drag/hardened-tongue to prove to you that I am African? Are you going to expect me to speak isiZulu or Tshivenda appallingly as well, or is it only limited to English?
3. Am I supposed to exude an aura of a toughened and roughened being to look like I belong to Africa?
Are you telling me that an air of rowdiness is a ready identification of our people? Are you saying that a made up language, consisting of languages that are not indigenous to Africa is a standard by which Africans should be measured or set by? Are you telling me that having seen me sample foreign delicacies, then my Africaness is revoked? How can imported clothing make me any more African? Since when have townships upheld the truest sense of African culture?
Dear “real” African, please think about this. Ke mo Afrika titi. Bowela kalana bja ka, ke gona mo Afrika. Semelo sa ka ke tswetswe naso. Bo nna bja ka ga bo ipeye ka maikutlo a gago. Ke moAfrika.
Suave exit
When I first saw you, I thought nothing of it, it was my friends party and I was in my comfortable space, I was alive with chatter, I was buzzing with questions to everybody and anybody, my usual in-society self really, and I think I made next to decent conversation…
But then again I didn’t think that I would be interesting as a girl to someone else and so I was the most loud me that I know.
Anyway, admist the laughter and jokes that is a present fixture at parties, I found myself talking to you, but it was all part of the scene, so I didn’t think much of. Hehe, when you asked for my number, I thought you were being nice…, plus your phone was off, so you’d “get” it later from our mutual friends… When you did get it, I thought you were taking politeness a step further, I didn’t understand, and to be honest, I still don’t get it.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to get to know some one, that I thought was out of my league, as much as I do you. I feel that I am out of my depth. I feel that I am inadequate for the role that I imagine a girl you would be interested in should fill…and you are interested right? That’s what I think anyway. My tummy has become a permanent residence for butterflies. My cheeks are strained from the permant smile that has taken occupation on my face . My sound mind is now loud with worry, doubts, and such a stiffling, crippling fear, that I find myself acting like an awkward teenager faced with her long time crush. Haha I honestly can not remember half the things I said to you…when I was not tongue tied that is.
Basically: My suave has deserted me My cool has melted My sophistication has been forgotten My feminine wiles (however miniscule they might have been) are no where in residence…
So I think I like you, I think you are way beyond my grasp or league…but I think I like you…
Xoxo
16 April 2016…
To You
So here are a few of the other things I never told you about your saintly self:
1. I knew about her from day 1
2. I knew when you decided to spy on my phone
3. I knew we were doomed from the start but hey hope right?
4. I know about that other girl you are “just friends” with
5. I stayed because you had warned me
6. I still love you despite your shit
Here is a list of how I fucked up
1. I distrusted you completely
2. I sought out to hurt you
3. I flirted heavy with K
4. I kissed him
Here is a list of the whys:
1. You didn’t want me, but you couldn’t let me go
2. You didn’t love me - not the way you claimed
3. You were seeing someone else
4. I figured fair is fair
5. It didn’t matter as long as I never slept with them.
Here’s the most fucked up thing of all:
I forgave you anyway and stayed even when I knew I should leave. I wanted your love... your real love. I’ll still be your friend despite how much I hate you right now.
That is all...
for now
“'Cause you're beautiful like a flower More valuable than a diamond You are powerful like a fire You can heal the world with your mind There is nothing in the world that you cannot do When you believe in you, who are beautiful Yeah you, who are brilliant Yeah you, who are powerful Yeah you, who are resilient”
India Arie - Beautiful Flower
Au revoir pour le moment, nous nous reverrons
Words Unspoken
Staring at a blank page, struggling to find the right words… The perfect ones because translating feelings on paper is never as easy as it seems. I wonder if you’d get it or if it would be just another bunch of cute and sweet words beautifully crafted together… In harmony. Wether these are words that’ll be forgotten a few months down the line… Or will they be cherished? Will they still mean something to you… Anything at all…? I wonder if you’d see what I see, that which most won’t. Would you understand the things eyes cannot comprehend. Would you stay even if the mind couldn’t make sense of the rapid progression of physiological events taking place in my body directly affected by you. By your being. In the beginning I was skeptical, In the beginning it was fun and games. It was you talking about you, it was me talking about me and apart of me wants to you and I to talk about us. There’s a famous lesson about being slow and winning the race. I want to take things slow with you. explore your mind, dwell in awe of God’s creation. But I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want you to feel as though you’ve been sold a dream. Whilst craving your presence, it dawned on me why alcoholics drink… The reason drug addicts get addicted. It’s so obvious and yet so difficult to understand. A feeling from within, as though your inner soul is telling you that “this” is what you need, coupled with your mind telling you that “this” is what you want… It only makes sense not to resist. Only an external factor would tell you to resist… Why would you fight it? Why would I? I know it feels right, and I know you feel it too… Fall harder for me! I’ll be gentle with you… Fragile. I’ll handle with care. You need not see the calluses of a ballerina or fathom the pain and effort it takes to make it all look so seamless… I can take it… However it’s not me I worry about. I am ready for you but i’m not ready for you. Give me all of you but don’t give me you. I’ll give you all of me, but I can’t give you me… At least not yet anyway. Maybe tomorrow, maybe never. Hope shall carry us through.
Some truth
You are more precious than gold
Wonderful read.
Loving this beautiful shot….
Never let them tell you that you aren’t art, never let them tell you you aren’t enough. You hold the key to the survival of humanity in your beautiful mind. You are not merely Black,
You are the melodic lullaby that hushes all the troubles, you are the complicated poem that humanity could never decipher. Never let them suppress your honey coated wonder
You are beauty
Black child, love thyself. You are black gold