Wishes upon pain.

 

 

I AM

Triggered. That’s what I am- that’s how I feel, there’s no other word to describe it, no other adjective will do it justice. The second it takes for a hand caressing a gun, and a finger to romance the trigger, is the second it takes for your presence to make me undone.

WANT

I want to call this piece stupid, but I’m yet to decide whether it’s because of how you make me feel, or it’s another way to describe you.

I despise you, and yet 'despise’ is too much a word, with emotion too great- as opposed to your irrelevance.

Sometimes your audacity surprises me, and when you look in the mirror, I want your foolishness to scream in laughter at you.

WISH

Dear- sorry, that’s a lie.

Deer, so I’d shoot you in the name of hunting. But no, you aren’t dear to me.

Despised, Mr. Stupid.

I hope you woke up today with a smile on your face, but with a heart that’s full of torment.

I hope that tomorrow when you go to bed, it’s after a bottle of pills.

I hope that your decisions hunt you- like a Lion to it's prey.

Frankly speaking, I don’t want you happy.

 

YOU

There is no proper way to express the pain in my heart, or the storm my tears have caused.

Like a red hanky, before a bull- you showed me ‘love’

And like an alcoholic to Hennessy, you intoxicated me with what could be.

I hope you experience it too.

This is why I say that maybe I was stupid- because you became all I had,

But since, this was nothing but a game of cards- the king is what you were,

 Now I have nothing, likened to a stray broom stick, somehow away from the bunch.

I want to wake up, and hear something happened to you- and I hate it

I hate it because it dresses my heart with burden.

You make me want to stand a hill and scream- ‘tis too much!

This pain is unbearable.

I’m an open zip, in need of closure.

Other times I want to walk up to you, and ask why?

I want to ask- what it was about me, that made disrespect like taking a breath in.

You awaken things I thought I had buried, and pain I thought I was over.

I hope you someday know how it feels to long for something.

And so, like wishes upon a star, but this wish drunk with pain- it’s almost a prayer

 I wish for your disappearance.

WIN

Take your award- have your medals.

Blow the trumpets! Your poker expressions- and your silence

Aided you, I’d have never seen it coming!

Congratulations!! The king of cards, a happy life and many cheers.

From the recipient of your stupidity.

FINAL CONFESSION

 

Who would have believed?

Who would have believed if I told them that Jide, the son of Kosoko liked children, and he liked them anyway he could get them?  No preferred sex.

How could I have formed the words that I write now?

I can smell the scandal, it would have caused- “the son of catholic priest, allegedly molests girl member of his father’s diocese”

How can I explain to you the currency with which my silence was bought?

You see, Jide was everybody’s star- the choirmaster, altar boy, he was in everything- extremely present, with his smile that made everyone see a halo on his head. The crown of this evil was that Jide went to my school, and he was the people’s man too! I had no safe space.

How could I have communicated, that it was best me, with confession after, a confession of all of my 'sins'- it was going to be me in submission, or my brother and I - when I showed disobedience or just my brother if I dared to never show up for these bible classes. Bible classes, that was how he got me on Saturdays, every other day it was mandatory that we saw, now that I think about it, I think that life just wasn’t my friend.

 Myself or my brother? And of course, to save my brother from this churchly wickedness, I was present every time, like a lamb ready for slaughter. I hope now you understand- that this suffering was bigger than me, and the consequence of not suffering even bigger.

I truly want to be able to say that my mother noticed my absence- not physically, I mean my mental absence, how I never truly spoke again, or how eating became laborious, the way my eyes lost their shine and how I became a shell of everything I was- if there’s anything worse than an empty shell, imagine it- I was it.

I remember one of those times, where Jide had buckled his belt and was about to leave the church office, he turned to look at me, tears in his eyes and apologized. I wish I could say that it ended there, and this was the end of all of it, but the next time- he came at me stronger and harder, with so much anger- like I caused his tears. Jide was SICK.

Sometimes, when I think of how I’ll tell this story. Yes, ‘this’ not ‘my’.

 It’s not my story, it’s an unfortunate series of events, that I was greatly unfortunate to have the first-row experience of. I think of how much fingers will point and not in sympathy, because as much as I hated it, Jide was god to some.

There was a time I was free though, my body not my mind- the only benefit of me traveling for university.  My body was free from unwanted intrusion and hands who held it in disgusted worship, so if you saw me- I was put together, and looked like all was well, I was however losing my mind, because the nights weren’t for rest, they were for battle- fighting with despicable memories that Jide left me with.

I wish I could say that Jide changed. I went home and my brother no longer smiled- and I knew, I just knew, that it was time for an end.

I want to sugar coat the end- the freedom of my brother and I- and right now I wish I did it in a way, that I’ll be cheered for, sweet and nice and full of spite. No, it was gritty and messy, twice with a knife to his chest in his sleep- then I watched him bleed to his final exit.

That day, I could’ve run, really far- I chose not to, and I sat in the corner of his room and waited.

This is the last confession I’ll ever make, the one before, being my plea of guilt. I will not stand in court for one more day and be paraded like a killer, when I helped Jide, I helped him stop. When you find this letter, I’ll be long gone.

This is what happened, this is why Jide was killed- I think that twelve years was enough silence, lucky for me- I will not be here to listen to your opinions.

So, my last words will be; I CONFESS TO HELPING JIDE, I HELPED HIM STOP.

 

  

 

FRAGILITY or something like that

 

If you had asked me last year, I’d have told you

That nobody would ever see me finish.

I have come to tell you my loves, that I have been SEEN.

Like an onion, I have many layers, we all do-

And I used to be so scared,

 Completely frightened of letting people,

See all of me.

Soaked in awareness of my flaws, and if I felt and breathed them so much,

How much more you?

And so, I tied my tongue, keeping all truth contained

Modifying all of my words, till they weren’t mine anymore

Saying maybe, when I meant NO.

Bending and twisting my standards, till they weren’t standards anymore

And sometimes, I wasn’t sure who I was,

And if I wasn’t, someone else was sure to define me;

 Timid  to some, confident to others-

There were times that contempt reigned, each part showing,

Depending on who I was with.

My life was void of identity, better that, than to;

 Love without restrictions and end up in pain.

And so, this was me; battling with truth that threatened to spill

And with the love that I was capable of.

 

In all of these, fragility soared,

Because a person cannot be completely without truth,

And so, the little part of me that wanted to care,

 without restrictions, was so desperate to be seen!

Searching in every window, the ones that never lie,

For words with no voice.

Words that speak of being antiques, to be loved

And to be special, carried with care- and saved.

Because ‘tis what I desire.

 I thought I had it!

I could’ve sworn, I found it!

Hence, the see finish.

Like a boomerang, all of my expressions of fragility, thrown back to me!

And that’s okay. I’ll try again.

Because the freedom that comes with being yourself truly,

When you wear honesty, sashaying in it - freeing yourself of pretense

It’s like, jumping off a cliff.

Only experience, can tell it all.

 

 

An endless wanting.

 

Have you ever been exhausted?

Like mind draining, a gallon of tears awaiting.

Ever tried to explain pain that you don’t even understand?

Betrayal that you absolutely cannot comprehend?

Ever craved to feel at home, like at peace

With your body and all that you are?

Do you ever feel like you’re in the crowd- watching life happen to you?

It’s like no matter how hard you try, you can’t make life work for you

From one event to another, watching life take and take, then take some more.

Have you ever wanted to scream; I mean scream so bad?

You hurt your throat.

Do you also wait until night to cry, you know; the silent tears

Into your pillow.

Is your pillow also your therapist? Friend? And judge, in one?

Is insomnia your friend? And loneliness your husband?

Can you explain this hurt that is cancerous? It keeps growing.

Do you look forward to your night terrors? You know; to at least feel fear,

Because every other time, it's like you're a breathing machine.

Is love also foreign to you?

Why haven’t you ended it?

What keeps you going?

I'm genuinely interested in what keeps you going, talk to me.💓

 

 

From Rose.

 

Dear Sharon,

I love you and I’m sorry.

The day I told you I cut, wasn’t the first time

In fact, I told myself that if you were concerned- it would be the last.

So, I walked up to you and said “I cut myself today”

I saw the fear in your eyes, and I saw the need to ask questions.

I’m happy you didn’t, I’m sad you didn’t. understand?

I so desperately wanted to feel safe, and wanted to be loved so much

I didn’t know what else to do, I wanted to feel so badly, I wanted to feel something other than anger.

I was angry at you for so long, and I was angry at the world, at my parents and at every other ‘friend’

I managed to bag.

I didn’t know how to tell you that the harsh words and insults delivered as jokes tired me

And I was extremely fragile, without coming off as overly sensitive- you know the way water is good for plants but too much isn’t and the way sunlight is good for plants, but too much is not.

How was I supposed to convey to you that I craved balance?

How could I have told you, that I hated my body when I exuded so much confidence?

See, it was little things at first, my parents constantly nagging- feeling underappreciated all the time

Then it was the big things, standing in the mirror watching my body parts mock me.

I was so together in appearance; I didn’t know how to be weak.

I needed so badly to break down all my walls, and weep

For the perfection I was and the imperfection I was becoming

I didn’t know till too late, till I needed the pain too much and was hungry for the blood from my cuts

That it was okay, okay to be imperfect.

If it’s any comfort, I found peace and beauty in my cuts, they are my peace scars.

I hope you know that I’m so desperately sorry, but now, the voices in my head are quiet.

I did love you, Sharon.

Your friend; Rose.

Sharon & Rose

 

‘I cut myself today’

this is the first thing this girl has said to me in two months

she went on her ‘people break’, trust me no one has access.

With my eyes, I beg her to tell me it’s a lie

but my words, they do not conform

my actions scream nonchalance

swiftly like the hare, she changes the topic

it was the last time such was mentioned.

It was the last time she ever looked happy.

 

Today, at her Funeral

I was asked to say something about Rose,

Obviously, they wanted me to say something nice about her

I searched my heart, and I searched my mind.

And this is it;

The first time I met Rose, it was at night

I bumped into her, and she into me- we both did the bumping now that I think of it,

But then? It was her to me, and to her it was me. You get?

The second time, I heard someone laughing so loud I cringed

It was her, I stared at her, trying to communicate with my eyes- that she was being noisy,

She walked up to me and said “use your words, it passes your message across faster”

And she walked away.

The third time sealed our friendship, nothing particular happened, she just slowly became one of those girls that I knew and from then we became friends.

When I think about Rose now; she had such an amazing laugh, those ones that light up your world, drenched in sincerity. She didn’t laugh if it wasn’t funny. I liked that she always laughed with me.

Rose was centered, she was assertive, if she didn’t want it, she wasn’t going to get it.

Rose was sad, I always assumed it was school, or just one of those days you have, you know, where everything was overwhelming.

She was always happy. Strange right? She was able to mix being so sad and so happy, the way red and yellow would give you orange, and you wouldn’t even know they were once separate colours.

She did everything so well, I wanted to be like her so much.

 

I keep backtracking in my mind, to the day she told me that she cut.

I want to know why

I want to take her pain for her

I want to explain the choices to her

I need to ask, if she knew that she could be happy.

Mostly, I want to understand.

I crave to understand.

I’m soaked with guilt, drowning in grief.

Maybe I didn’t show her enough love

Did she know that I would be hurt?

Did she think I didn’t care?

MAGIC BEINGS

 

Do you not know that you are magical?

Have you not heard that you are body, soul and spirit?

Can’t you feel the essence?

Haven’t you felt the source of which you came?

From love indescribable, only quantifiable by death.

When you walk pass windows that show your reflection,

Do you not wonder how? How your eyes know where to be and

How your ears know where to be.

Do you not wonder, wonder at the intelligence- supreme knowledge of the person that crafted you?

When you stand in front of a mirror, don’t you marvel as to how

Even with the parts you don’t totally love, you are still indescribable?!

When you look at your hands, don’t you wonder the magic trick

That keeps them so small, and still so strong.

Don’t you think that humanly such love that you encompass?

And such craft, it took to mold you, and the breath that gives your spirit life?

Is impossible. How can you not know that you are MAGIC? Beyond physical,

Completely spiritual, how could someone have died for you? without the use of love potions?

66 books, filled with love letters- and you didn’t have to lift a finger!

Do you see the way your eyes twinkle when you smile?

Do you know whose presence you move with? Don’t you speak and it happens?

Doesn’t the universe favour you?

Haven’t you noticed that your spirit man, intuition- whatever you wish to call it,

Speaks to you and is right?

Work your tricks- KINGS & QUEENS! You are full of promises and accomplishments!

You could say Abracadabra or any other thing. Word it into being.

From your fellow magic being💞.

From 2020 to you.

 

I think the concept of tough love is so out of our comfort zones that we don’t even see it as love, its basically suffering.

This is 2020’s POV.

No, you may not like it. You’ll probably hate it. Don’t come for me, its 2020 talking.

I know, I know. I’m your worst year. I did this, and I did that. I took A and I took B.

There was the Pandemic, and then there was SARS- gunshots becoming so common it could win the Grammys. This is probably not the way to start an apology, and like every one of you who lack accountability, I’m just going to list all the good things I did, and maybe, just maybe you wouldn’t hate me so much.

I taught you to put yourself first, and to love yourself unconditionally, yes, I know it was hard but you did it!

I taught you how frail life is, and you learnt to love people too. It was hard, but you didn’t let pride win.

You learnt the value of time; you were all productive. I loved to watch it happen.

I saw you grow; spiritually, physically, financially. I saw you make moves that you would have never done.

I saw you rest; placing your mental health first. Attacking, when needed, and withdrawing when necessary.

I watched you surrender to the invisible, focusing on only what you could control.                                          

You, yes you- you cultivated habits that kept you sane, matching energies.

I want you to know that, I also saw you struggle to grasp the basis of life, trying to understand why the things that happened did.

I saw you war with your faith, and wonder whether your tears weren’t seen and your cries weren’t heard. They were. We saw, we moved, we worked, strengthening you for things you can’t even imagine.

I love you, yes you, every single one of you- and you may say I came from hell or that I have been the worst year ever- but I want to remind you that you found love, you found strength, you found hope and held on to faith, and even if you found nothing or you think you didn’t , read this and think of the times you felt you couldn’t go on, think of those tears that nobody saw, the battles you won and know that I was cheering on you, we were cheering on you.

And that you’re reading this means you survived. I’m certain you’re grateful for that.

I love you! We love you!

NB: That you gave yourself space and time to rest and just be is an Accomplishment.

thank you for reading always. I LOVE YOU.

 

 

 

An apology too late.

 

Today, I lost my sister. No, not my blood sister- I lost my choice sister.

I lost my cheer leader, my friend and my soulmate.

When people ask me how, I don’t know whether to tell them what killed her

Or what killed our love.

I lost her twice. To pride and to cancer.

A cancer I didn’t know existed because of pride.

So, when you ask me how I feel, I don’t know how to explain.

This is me trying anyways, this is my apology, Queen.

 

I feel regret so strong, even awareness of your forgiving spirit doesn’t help

I feel pain so bad, when I cut it feels better.

I feel hate at its peak. I don’t believe in love anymore.

I have so many wishes, I’m drunk on them.

I wish I spoke to you in January.

I wish I called you when I felt the urge to.

I wish that when you called in march,

I answered.

I wish that I didn’t ask for space.

I feel stupid for not noticing the wavering of your voice,

And careless for not taking note of the slouch that was once non existent

I wish I read the pain in your eyes.

I’m shattered that I wasn’t there for you.

 

And in all of these things, I’m sorry.

I’m so desperately sorry, it hurts to breathe.

I watch our videos and stare at our pictures.

I want more time to love you.

I want our children to grow up together

I want you to come back. I know, you were in pain

But I want you back. Maybe to appease my conscience

Or maybe to see the steadfast love in your eyes.

Or just to hear you say, you forgive me.

 

I want you to know that I have a trillion losses

With you being gone.

And no, my Queen, it wasn’t worth it.

The year without you was hell.

I wish I spoke to you.

walking on water

 

I want to walk on water- to have complete faith. I want to experience those once in a life time ‘loves’ that just complete you and make you question everything you knew and know. I probably read too many books, and I’ve watched too many movies, my expectations are probably too high but I want my butterflies too.

Sometimes, I crave for the interdependency, the knowing that I have someone, my person- and on those really bad days I think that maybe if I was different, I’ll find my person easier. There’s way too much thinking, too much logic, too much analysis that comes with me as a person, can you relate? I’m talking of those questions and fears that creep into your mind and you just have to analyze them, picking them apart like bad beans from the good ones, those ones that seem so necessary to dwell on till they cause ruin, and then you start to wonder if you over-reacted?

 

This isn’t even a want again. I yearn to walk on water, to have faith and trust so blindly- that it doesn’t even matter that I might fall, all that matters is knowing that I will be caught. I want to surrender totally to the cause of events, and be unbothered, dangerously unbothered. I want to go to bed knowing that it will be okay, even when it’s not. I want to get rid of doubt.

 

I do not want to sink- I want to completely and utterly be in the knowing of who I’m walking out to meet. I do not want to be a Peter. I do not want to sink. Don’t let me sink?

PS: This is a vote? of thanks to everyone who reads my blog an comments on it too, i hope that everything you do flourishes and people appreciate you as much as you do, me. love and light💓💓💓💓💓💓