Step 1: Get out of bed
Step 2: Look in the mirror
Step 3: Practice your smile
Step 4: Eyedrops to hide the red eyes
Step 5: Conceal the dark circles
Step 6: Breathe
The curtains are almost up
Step 7: Lock down the pain
Step 8: Ignore the weight on your chest
Step 9: Silence the screams inside of your mind
Step 10: Choke down the sobs
Step 11: Ignore the stinging in your eyes
Step 12: Swallow past the tightness in your throat
You’ve put on this show a million times
Step 13: Don’t let them see
Times up. Curtains up. Camera rolling

i have hated physical touch
since the age of seven
when the trajectory of my life
would change forever

vulnerable
soft
physical touch

would put a feeling in my stomach
that was pure nausea
the vulnerability aspect
would cause a panic within me

until you

i crave your touch
i crave your hands rubbing my back
i crave your heart beating to the same rhythm of mine
i crave your warm South African tan on my body

i have not felt so safe with someone

until you

thank you

sometimes, i wonder
if you’ve ever visited hello poetry,
looked up my username, daisy,
just to check if there’s for you recently

you’re the only person
who knows about it, anyway.

I think
the world
needs
more
of us
than we
can offer

People talk, more than I.
I am ashamed of my past,
And confused about my life.
Where the history, of many lineages
Is well-described:
I am unaccustomed with mine.
What I know, of right & of wrong,
Is it predicated on the rule of the weak
By that of the strong?
The gaze thus glares from my eyes,
Does it live in black & in white?
Does bruised fruit still grow ripe?

She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.

the scent of incense
hangs heavy in the air
the constant murmer of voices
comes crashing like waves
but your eyes meet mine
and the faces disappear
the voices die,
all that remains
is an unspoken invitation
from my lips
willing yours to kiss them
and yours happily
meet their request
leaving our love tasting
like oranges
tenderly plucked
from moonlight lips.