ImagineMyThoughtsInWords

Man, I haven’t been back home in a while. Safe to say I miss it, but I just… can’t seem to come back regularly, you know, the way normal people do. I haven’t seen these walls since the winds held hands with the winter, and the sun couldn’t do nothing but stand there and mourn. The rooms must ache with silence by now. Dust probably settles where love used to live. I long for this place I used to call my own. I too mourn it from time to time — tortured by wishes and what ifs, by memories that arrive uninvited and leave the door wide open behind them. Perhaps nobody wants me there anymore. Perhaps home got weary of waiting for my quick submission to the brilliance that is I. So do I never go back? Do I swallow my pride, pack half a bag, cross my fingers, and hope half this heart of mine is still enough for you and I? Because the rest just… wouldn’t understand why I ran away from home before. They never do. And maybe that is the cruelest part of longing — knowing there is a place in this w...

  So I'm finally writing you back .Years later and I've summed up the courage, a little hell and hopefully some well presented words.  I read old emails the other day in the middle of getting a few insignificant things done, over and over, just circling familiarity.  They sounded beautiful,  perhaps just as you were from when I felt I knew you; in all their honesty. It felt like a performance of a life time, CPR, giving life to a deflated organ again. I felt I wanted to write you beautiful things. Abandon my creative pain and otherwise relatable version of what it looks like to be beautifully broken, but I like it here.  It feels easy, even though it isn't. Rebuilding, fixing and mending, this time without running from terrorizing memories that devoured all the smoke in my lungs I pulled as weapons of mass destruction, killing everything that was of you, from the soles of my feet to the cracks in my spine, from those kisses. It was almost like breathing. I wante...

Ready, when you are, But even so, without you, to be of love, as uncertainty wraps around you but not this self Lucy, Ti's you, ti's you, ti's you, Of life, once again, Of life, ti's you unravelled, yet to be rediscovered. So Welcome, Darling at your dearest, Perhaps softest. How does it feel to breathe? Again? In harmony? One rhythmically with self, Failing and winning so successfully,  simultaneously with a mind untamed as if reborn. Untouched by men, gratitude lacked in women given love, from broken pieces collected from places touched by men with dirty hands, Oh, how I've missed you my lover... I've spent nights fantasising on these love notes I'd leave you. They've echoed deeply in her brain, flowed through heart and twirled in the stomach creating chaos instead of butterflies, floating violently up the spine imagining themselves as words, Yet they got stuck, trying not to precipitate into tears my mother wept that drive alone fro...

L et me start this again. I reintroduce myself. A million and one times every year. Remade, rebranded, bandaged in pains and gains and fuller, more hungrier for this feeling than ever.  I greet you in the name of something new. Something I knew, and always known. I write this for the hopeful, hopeless and painters of pictures in a mind letting love flow from your brain to your heart.  I've been touched. I've been touched right. More gentle than I imagined possible. I've been smiling more, laughing more and more, more wanting that feeling of you. I've tasted a beginning of a whirlwind of the best and worst of you. From left to right, upper lip to bottom your fearlessness for the world. Come inside of me and see. All the tragedies blooming, the chaos meeting calm creating a beautiful storm, I think you'll make a home for yourself inside of me soon enough. There's a part of you I see in me and mine in you so it's only fitting. That I belong, wholly and solemnly...

"will I ever, do as you do, perhaps feel as you do." I'd like to think I've grown. Perhaps he's shown me so much of everything I've been missing, from you, all of which I hate myself a little for taking so long to fathom.  So here I am, after all these new things, new places, new people still encountering him for what feels like the last time each time. I think this one's a little frustrated with me, for not being to able to extract that part from me, for perhaps understanding he potentially never will or because it has become all on me. It's dreadful to watch. We're certified to be each other's everything in such completion, where if he moves, I do and breathing seems easier when he's around. He feels a little like a home I've needed, but I'm terrified to say it out loud that I still do, somehow, somewhere deep in this purgatory, know he owns me. Well isn't this instantly sickening. I felt the same with him a year ago. I took m...

 Purposely, so into each other, he consumed me. Everything about me, he seemed to love it here. He saw me. completely, solely, visibly so unbothered by the drift in my energy.  For me, it was him still. He had broken into me. To the core and to my depth, my very thing he'd told himself to love about me, that everything about me is love and done in love. He had said, one time, in my presence, to some girl, "she's a lover, and I love that. Everything about her embodies love."  For a while I waited for him to say "I want that for her. to give it to her or at least learn her language and make it mine." I couldn't escape him, at the time it seemed even if I wanted to. In that moment he made sense, because sexually, he was all I knew, my unfulfilled fantasy, the person that had told me "don't move" while his being was inside. I had his soul deep in mine, and for the first time, he felt like mine.  This new cycle, was patient and gentle. He knew I...

"I suppose I scared you off huh?" I asked, laying on his chest listening to him compress his breath without being too obvious. After listening to my tragic stories about how love did me dirty, he came back, again and again. I wanted to trust his interests, they seemed morbid but I compared them to a man with good intentions but men lie most, unnecessarily. He left that day knowing me, partially yet so wholly. I mean it was my entire life from just 10 months of a forever full of incomplete cycles. I knew my mess was alluring to him. He'd come back, I told him, and he'd want to save me, out of love or out of pity, but one way or another he'd become my new cycle of chaos. He'll like my depth, then grow to love it until he realizes it's as permanent as my birthmarks, then he'll leave. I wanted nothing from him; well, expect to use him to revisit a time I once loved, or plenty other moments, with another man, that wasn't him. I couldn't have him in ...

I was never me as you've come to know me. I'm skeptical sitting here trying to tell you of all the things to expect. Yet at the same time, I want to give you plenty of time to leave, to run away from me - a chance to save yourself and me. You see, I grew up a broken little girl. Giving little to no love at all and receiving just as much. I didn't want it anyway. I didn't know why everyone needed it, when all people do is leave. Even the obligation of a parent loving their child seemed quite fickle and conditional. I am a product of how love traumatized me. My first love left me at my softest, for a few years, alone and stranded. My second one didn't love me like I did him, or if at all he did I might never know. Look at me now, sitting here beside you ripping my soul apart, completely bare and exposed to you. But you'll leave too, eventually at some point, but in the meantime you'll be here. I'll spend that time with you being exactly what you desire. As...

 At some point while living in the void, I've written my soul to the ashes of my entire past, present and future. Risen as a phoenix to the lies I've known and the truths I've always thought. I've known how to hide my debilitating nature to the presence of my emotion, my greatest super power. I hold my magic hostage for rainy days, or perhaps to keep my silence for when tragedy strikes.  I've been derived from my own internal chaos, shoved deeper into the hole I've intuitively perpetuated. I've lost count of all the marks and signs telling me to ''slow down or let it go or just do both''.  I mimic a little girl trying to fill up space in shoes that are too big, compensating for not compensating enough, feeling guilt for feeling guilty. A one hit wonder sometimes with my writing but a wholesome drive-through for everybody's use, loving without asking, demanding, expecting. Only to give until there's absolutely nothing left. I can paint...

 What a month this has been.  With everything that's been happening to me, it almost felt like an entire year went by. I keep revisiting some part of my life, when I'd held on to empty souls that could never let love in. They left and took a piece of my little hope, to fix their broken with the one I hid so I could hold them without burning a hole through their already damaged heart. What a tragic way to gain and lose isn't it?  I've mourned a heart I never broke, and yearn for the one I never stole. Ironic how both inhabit one body. How pathetic I am to have loved so carelessly I thought, without boarders, without the fear of consequence and so unconsciously. It is sin to be that comfortable and yet so "eggshelled" from the soles of my feet. I chose a love that killed me every time without batting an eye because I told my heart to be at peace with my destroyer. Look at me now, choosing to be nobody's mess but my own and completely thriving in it. I though...

I suppose I should say I'm back. To be quite frank I don't know how this will last, but I do know I need some form of escape from my tragic reality.  I should tell you I've been writing in the comfort of my all my devices, but haven't really felt any of them honest enough or relatable enough to put up. Most of it has been about love and I really want to stray from that concept for a while. One thing I can attest to is that these past couple of months have chipped away parts of me gradually. I've made it a point, to myself at least, to be as open and honest about my mental and emotional health. I debated whether it is okay to speak about it here; a fear of being judged or sounding in need of pity from strangers and friends have been great motivators to keep the deeper chaos to self. But I figured, as usual, someone might need to know they're not struggling alone because I do. The past weeks I've had to admit to myself that I might need help, to declutter my l...

  So I wanted to share something I've been going over in my mind for a few days. Yesterday I got this picture which was a perfect representation of a conversation I had with, well, a depth loving person. I was going to speak about what this picture represents to him but I will instead make it a supposed "us" thing. I call this a Beautiful Chaos because of the evident conflict between the earth and the sky. To me this is a tussle between brain and heart, light and darkness, fear and courage, certainty and confusion. It is all the things about love that are imperfect but must be endured and experienced. He said to me, the lighting symbolized a form of communication between these two 'entities' and I agree. Brain is fighting heart on something they both know and have understood for a while now. I said to him, the world needs a balance. there cannot be light without darkness, no gain without pain, fear without courage, strength without weakness because each of these ...

  I owe you so much. A thank you, a lifetime of hugs and complete messages to remind you not to break my love. I have, on so many occasions given freely what belongs to you; to you I owe love. I have learned to live as if there's plenty time to feel, to endure, to laugh and be a person one of these days. I have lost and have not cried enough to unload enough. I have neglected the part where, unseen and unheard, you too are a living being. I stopped writing, completely discarded all the fire in exchange for a beautiful chaos with a face. I put my heart on pause thinking it needed to breathe a little and how wrong I was is evidence now of all the things that took and took and never gave back.  They left, all of them. They promised to be there, to show up, I thought maybe I was unfair and a bit too harsh or lacking in my manner. I took your love, I demolished it bit by bit and chipped away at it until I had a little left for you and for this I owe you everything and all what God ...

If we never met?  There'd be a me still, more stressed, laughing less with no smile to look forward to. Picture that, an anxious me, stagnant paralyzed in the same place with no awkward memory like how I met you. I think I've stopped wishing for things to happen. I want things I can have now. Your energy, your hand, your hair, your smile...  I think I'm ahead of myself sometimes. I know my patterns. As many times as I can I'll do it, preach to people that don't know me about habits and patterns and how I'll never bend to that silliness again. It is a form of consistency and commitment that does not appeal to me, and yet here we are again, same damn thing just a different year and in the middle of a global pandemic to top it all off. Congratulations Miss Thang! At this point we might as well just raise a glass champaign darling like Leonardo DiCaprio and toast to me because yes ladies and gentlemen, Katleho has done it again, fallen in the hole of LDs. I realise ...

I've imagined my life with love these past few weeks. At some point, which is a point I'm still on, I'm running. The funny thing is, if you'd asked me what it was I wanted a month ago, I'd have said ''to be alone'', unprovoked and as blunt as I could say it. This one time, I went through my notes and found some old letters I'd written to a love that was perfect then. I say this because, I'm more of a moment girl now. There's a strange freedom and untainted peace in feeling completely, absolutely and certainly for that second or minute or hour. I found it disturbing, feeling all over again, all those "loves" that broke something in me. I'll admit this last one injected a little more fear. You know, it's not the fear of meeting someone new, or falling because it is bound to happen sooner or later. I have this fear of an impending doom.  It's like setting in place a day of execution before the crime is committed and a s...

I have been wanting for so long to write about what has been happening, the lessons more than the events themselves. The past few days I've realised, the perfect words do not exist, the words just have to make sense to the right people or person.  I woke up yesterday, feeling the same as any other day before that; uncertain, wanting so bad to be unbothered. It is 2 AM the next day and it took one moment of a genuine smile while staring in the mirror at my bare 'make-up free' face to remember that it's really not that bad. If you asked me last week what I was feeling, my first emotion would scream anger even the heavens would hear it. Anger like I'd never felt before; paralysing and coursing through my entire body. For the first time, this was a weekend I enjoyed fully and completely. I didn't have to hide. I enjoyed my music. I was taking walks and dancing on the side of the road. I was my weird self again. Now that I think about it, I think I might have taken t...

I lost. I lost deeply this week, so many battles. I can't even begin to tell you what it is I feel but the first thing I know is this loss I carry. April will be my undoing. I'm ruined, tortured and halfway through broken like its 2017 all over  again. I stand in this room and relive my routine every morning. It has no meaning, it surely does not benefit me anymore. I'm alone in this madness. Today I went crazy and I almost loved it. I sat at my table, beautiful view with nothing to see and no one to admire, and all I saw was my anxiety starring directly back at me. I was overwhelmed by tremendous fear. Oh Lucia, the sight of it crippled me. Suddenly my dream flashed back into my psyche. In this dream it was my brother, and for that I did nothing today but let my tears flow. I had this deadline hovering over my head, two more in a matter of 5 days and Hope, Baby Hope, at just 4 months had died without me even meeting her. Imagine, all that love, all that fragility ...