NGV

The Year of Death, Bad News, and Malaria.

‘18, ‘19.

The Motif

The Birds,
They are singing or screaming, I am not too sure.
The hectic noise of their chaotic ringing brings me to a place of peace.
Ironic.
Chaos in light an easing sentiment.
Peace in chaos, a preference.
Suddenly my motif
Becomes the light that borders my darkness.

Pain / Grief.

I want to write you away
with all of the pain.
You took your last breathe
and it killed me.

with every step - I can feel you.
I know I am meant to move on
and I know you would want me to
but unfortunately, it is not simple.

It yearns for more (the pain)
with every drip
my mouth evaporates fear,
the fear of not having you.

The pining for a grandfather’s presence.
You were the only one.

I love you.

Forever

NG Vervelde

The year of death, bad news, and Malaria.

It was a shock at first.
That so much can go wrong,
so quickly.

When it sunk in
it sunk deeply.

I can tell you it was a surprise to us all.
but worse yet, self doubt it creeps in
steadily.
Suddenly your support systems are not
there.

In a rush to succeed, I lied to myself.

You

You feel like a million years ago.
Like I have travelled the world four times
Since we called it a night.
Discovering every corner of the world
Enticed by every delicacy,
Every momentous opportunity,
Every wrong turn
Turned right.

The Words

The words, they boil.
They turn me inside out - strangling my vocal cords.
My mind a fluster of activity and thought
-incapable of reaching
Out for help.

First, they need to steam and be confronted.
Then they need an escape / through paper.
Until finally, they will speak

into our distorted reality.

Flamboyant, and distraught
They eat at their cousins
: Actions.

Pause d.

Change.

Feels like years since we Talked.
Thinking about You. Thing’s have changed.
It is true. I feel alive. Better now than then.
More free than the time since that.
The in-between was difficult.
Time stood still, with it, I stood still.
Finally movement is here.
Feel like I am moving
Ahead, if nowhere
Else. I feel Alive
Once more.
Alive.

Stuck in two loops.

Falling for you.
But you are not real.
And it is my imagination
Eloping. Without fiction, can we exist?
My question to you, you who does not yet exist.
Yet or forever.
Forever stuck in this loop.
Imaginary tales of the
Luxuriously pleased.
And disconnected,
Where do we go from here?
Forwards, you say.
I heard, but I took a step backwards.
And now.
Here we are.
Without disaster,
Here we are.
In flesh and not in distance
Physically present.
I do, I do.
Ok I admit it.
I have feelings.

…

Moving on
is so
strange and
difficult,
and unreeling in its’ grip
of mischievous uncertainty
and grief
and pain.

It is relenting.

Acceptance is key.

…