So i practice restraint…


Don’t speak… I know

It starts as a song you know the intro to

only then it switches to an unfamiliar tempo and

you lose yourself to bask in the uncertainty of its tune

Like the time you asked me for my hand and

whispered that it would all be okay

I lost myself in the security of its sanctity

you became my muse

I see and seeded moments of pure bliss looking down,

up and sideways at the face of the one

who truly made our movements potent egg scrambled moments


Didn’t need to troll for treasures…

I already had the chest and luckily for me it wasn’t empty

but filled with passion and I wasn’t in search of conquest

Times I cradled mi amour in my arms knowing

this was where I was definitely meant to be

Then to find that I lost that certain

something because I never let go…


I cherish the smoothness the intellect the smile

the zany insight the calm moments before the storm of pure passion

I think of quintessential times that define my emotions for you

as I emote with precise clarity my feelings for you

Only I find that even with my gift and my curse

the curse of my gift is that I no longer can retain

the yoke of affections displayed..

it’s clear that I am not wanted by you.


So I practice restraint…

I so practice restraint that I won’t call to speak of

the amazing moments that I die to share with you

even though the digits are never far from my fingers

I mentally dial and have lucid connected

conversations with your unconscious being

Like talking to you while you are sleeping

finding that the things you say to me in a half trance state

are the truths you could not say to me because

we both fear the retribution of a love unrequited


How does it feel to function at less than prominent?

Queasy like the droning of a badly scripted song

the sleepless nights tell me that I am truly missing

the warmth of your skin, listening to you breathe

and the soft touch of your lips as mine readily yield to yours

Fear captivated me, like a child seeing a faux magic trick for the first time

yet I stand arms open welcoming

the different attributes to show this is what I want


It’s harder than sleeping on park benches with no home to speak of…

Only I have a house but no home to speak of..

Being my own best friend and worst ally

I awkwardly stand transfixed every time

I remember the places times and situations

I was with you being peacefully infused with happiness…

Now these are just memories on hold

waiting to be expunged in a haze of a coffee-house puff – puff and away

Yet the damn memories won’t walk this way

telling me they are of things that

had to come to pass and create this present

So I practice restraint…


Every day is a happy one no matter what I encounter, my mantra

I just wait patiently for the days that I feel these same things and better


This I know, so I practice restraint

Even though I transcend pique vivid blue moments

hoping for a glimmer of a chance to reclaim and feel complete again

Ramble ramble ramble

me and the bitter-sweet turmoil’s of the soul



© Seyi Awolesi 16012007213518


About CerebralCausality

I am an Architect, Photographer, Poet, Writer. I'd say a bit of a renaissance man. I love and imbibe creativity of all forms as it is the essence of life itself. Take a walk down the myriad process that invigorates my mind, be still for a spell and let my words dwell in your subconscious allowing you to intellectually copulate with me.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: