it was 3 am.
some sampha was playing.
and
the earth was still.
and
the rain was dim.
and
every so often
there was nothing that mattered
as much
as
letting it fall
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Sarah Diniz Outeiro
Tag: spilledthoughts
drizzle
it was one of those days
that began with the drizzle
of the sky
half past
the turn of the morning.
with clocks that run.
and soles that chase.
and days that stop.
and souls that ask
what are we running to
© Hudson Biko
Photograph by Jack Finnigan
Frustrations
home
here.
“here.”
they say.
“you are better now.”
the chains are gone.
and
the nature has grown
and there is no more
pain to store
here any more.
they have given words
like peace.
like sanity. like this reality
is the best
it could ever be.
like this
is the best we could ever have.
the lips
are hushed,
the blood
is run,
the water
is tan,
the soil
is sand.
it is safe.
to begin again.
the chains are gone.
and
the nature has grown
and there is no more
pain to store
here any more.
“here.”
they say.
“you are better now.”
© Hudson Biko
hudson biko 