Friday, 9 February 2018


     Distance as stretched as conceivable by space
     Drawn as close to the sun before perish.
     Confrontation vs. the guard;
     Caution and curious work like oil and water.
     Both are essential

     Conflict for me, at its peak, came from within
     lactic acid turned muscle to stone,
     joints locked;
     I'd gone too far
     unable to recalibrate;
     Chaos drowned my mind,
     eye lids ajar
     only contact:
     warmth of the sun
     independence and desperation
     isolation is both calm and calamity
     Both formulate essence.

The first sign of conflict was heartburn
rage in my belly
body fuming
Only for energy to oxidise,
only for my creations to rust.
In conflict my body responded in resistance
I stopped breathing; an act of will
the storm had just cleared
the sky looked like heartburn
air was still
eyes filled with salt water and despair
breathing had escaped me
I lost control
unbeknownst, unsatisfied, unfulfilled.
My existence had overwhelmed me
salt water poured
from eyes to cheek, to chest.

The ocean is unapologetically reckless
only answering to the moon as she beckons,
responding with warmth to the sun
as if to be inviting.
Contact that is wonderfully simple
without heartbreak.
when waves break
It's to bring what's to arrive ashore
the rest is still cleansing
the only conflict the ocean knows is resistance;
the only thing caught in a rip is resistance
The ocean would rid me of conflict
so long as I unclenched my fists
rid me of conflict:
cleansed to the bone
until bringing me back ashore.
If I anchor my ankles
erosion more powerful than conflict,
rids more

When I entered the ocean it was to become free ~

// Nestanet is a common female name in Amharic, it also means freedom //



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