Kadupul

You’re not a puzzle
no need to be pulled
– apart
then have your pieces
misplaced.

You’re a Kadupul
growing awkward and unknown
with a harsh exterior
in varying terrains

They can hold their rain
no invitation to your parade
not while you’re a –
Midnight Mircale
– blooming sans light
the rare, precious,
delicate, most desired
within all these vast lands

what they cannot ruin with their hands.

– Lita

(A Kadupul is the most precious, beautiful flower on this earth. What makes it priceless is that it blooms at night and it wilts before dawn.

Simply,
We are not the sum of what people see in us during the light, but rather what grows within us in our darkest hours and those who are deserving of us will get to see us in our greatest bloom.)

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My world was shattered.

Snowfall
Foreign Land

I was hurtling towards the earth before I even knew that I had lost control. Now I find myself typing up my life story in the far east of Russia, thousands of miles away from the only place I’ve ever called home.

I’ve seen the world. Felt the bitter cold. Been embraced in loving arms and been flung into the unknown, all before I hit 19.

I suppose before I divulge further into this whirlwind of a story I should reintroduce myself.

My name is Lita, once a starry-eyed 17-year-old who pondered about love and the world, now a 19-year-old, forging her way through her the world.

I’m a South African who moved halfway across the globe to one of the coldest country known to man, Russia.

To be flung into the unknown is to reach within yourself and scrape up every bit of your essence and to put it up to a tiny spark then pray it is strong enough to flicker into a fire so bright that it can guide you out.

It’s difficult to explain to what extent my views and opinions of the world have grown and evolved yet remain intrinsically the same.

However I’ll try and perhaps we’ll come to create a different bond with each other, a stronger one.

Part of me would like to say that I am sorry for being tardy to the 2018 wave of writing but I’m not sorry.

After all, great things come in due time. 

– Lita

Bingo

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Bingo

Grey hair
Pollutes my mind,
Stems itself in my thoughts
Thoughts I can’t remember.
The words are sucked up
Something is sucked up
Grey hair
I can’t remember
I need to pee

Grey hair
Steals my memories
Tomorrow left today
I can’t remember
Something is stolen
Who are these faces
I need to pee

Grey hair
Takes what’s left of me
My bed is wet – it’s warm.
I can’t remember something
Grey hair
I’m cold
I can’t remember anything.

– Lita
(Panicked)

Seasick

Seasick

“There are plenty of other fish in the sea”
so she left him hooked,
breathless in a foreign land.

                  moving against currents,
ignoring the warnings of his fellows
away from the safety of the deep below
his mind swims to the edge
        – unaware and baited
he waited
only to get caught.

so she left him hooked
within her being
and left him gasping for air
in a foreign land

.


Light from Lita
See you soon