Imperfections refined
from sections
of misconceptions
Into
realms
resonating
in the absence
of insecurities
As reflections
become easier
to look back at
in the presence
of everything we weren’t
Until
the
runs
out
And we are.
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Brunel Johnson
Chests congested
by the repercussions
of actions
rather taken
back
As stacks,
racks
and blankets
of past events
blanket
shivering
skin
Lingering
in their obscurity
Reminding us
of their solidity
;
Leaving us Adrift.
Amongst bumps
we call goosebumps
:
Shivering.
© Hudson Biko
in these moments
we
find
ourselves
saying that
of it really mattered
,
That it was only one time
and that time
will make it feel slightly better
,
Saying that
all those things
won’t matter anymore
;
And then we find ourselves
awake
at half-past four
in those moments
That find us
,
As if
we
don’t really matter
© Hudson Biko
they say that sometimes we have to let some things go
that we can’t really do
all of this
all by ourselves
that our shells
can only hold onto
the fragments
of constituents
buried deep within the parts of us we never really want to reach
or the parts of us they expect us to keep holding onto
they tell us that sometimes
trying to
everything
leaves us controlling
nothing
And maybe they’re right
Maybe all of we have left
won’t be enough
And we find ourselves buried
deep within
fragments of our constituents
Asking them to hold on to us
;
But maybe
just maybe
All we ever want to control
is nothing
And maybe
just maybe
that’s enough.
© Hudson Biko
It was never meant to be like this.
It was never
meant to be more
than half of four
,
It was never
meant to leave
the echelons of hives
Buzzing
in echelons
of everything
that was
comfortable
;
But it was.
Buzzing
in the echelons of hives
we were never meant to leave.
© Hudson Biko
Inspired by the Daily Prompt: Unravel
hudson biko 