Wrecked soul.

She learnt to see with her eyes closed, ignore what the heart felt, she listened to reason,gave in to challenge,  paid attention, close attention that she became wise enough to know when to walk away, making an iron wall around her, but she never knew that her heart was growing cold, that her humanity was drying up,  the what that made who she was faded, she became cold and cared not, she was a lost black sheep, whose shame showed no regrets, worse she began to love it,for it was the only way she could avoid pain, so the good in her she buried, and deep into the darkness she walked, only light bright enough to wipe her history and re-write her story would rescue her, only a past so dark would show her the light, only that which was impossible, a miracle.

She feared not being a walking dead, for it was a clear fact that no one mourned her, it was time for her to be free in her own cage, a cage she could control, in her darkness,with her cold heart and lost part of her, but was there stubborn pieces of goodness that could be salvaged?  Was there a light so strong to save a lost soul? Was there hope? Was there?

My theory of pain.

I have a theory, in a moment of impact, intense repeated pain, its fear that creeps in, and in pain you find pleasure, in that moment you wish for a change but then, its just a repeat for over and over you’ve been there, you just wanna let go, so in that moment, you wish that you would just forget, amnesia, but is it what you get?


Shh-I beg for silence. 

I want silence, but the whispers are too loud,

How do i open my mouth, when i shiver from the sight of that which terrifies my heart.

 Am sure it was a “hallo” that escaped my mouth, but why am i getting a, “its okay,you run along,see you around,” reply? Its crazy how my heart makes my body do that which the heart wants. Is maths this complicated? Someone please tell me why do i keep count of the good nights, see you tomorrow, i noticed they are too many in a day,  how do i count every word over and over? 

Over and over, re-reading my text, the whispers say that i have found me in someone else. I want silence, to think of what she said, the old lady, i was crazy she said, she wouldn’t understand how one would laugh out loud by looking at their phone, i couldn’t agree more, ain’t  it what this fire makes us all, crazy?

I want silence, to fantasize in peace, to feel the butterflies, see the roses, to close my eyes and see that face, oh that face that gives me sleepless nights. To sing in silence, there is fire in my heart, to argue and make up, silence to have this dream, to live in this dream, its a dream, don’t wake me up, if you do, if you wake me up, be one in my dream.

Standing accused. 

​                                

Accused, criticized,over looked, you stand,

Crucified,abused, humiliated, their fingers pointed to you, their voices louder in their heads, the eyes telling more than the hypocrisy in their mouth, them of no sin, you wonder who made them judges.

Your fears, shortcomings, your voice, you, they that live not their lives, they have made  you a judge over  your life, in your moment of despair, pain,  loneliness, insecurity, you saw your flaws, you became aware of the inferior you, then you judged you. You forgot about you, you lost yourself. 

A revelation, you became aware of you, cared not for adoration or acceptance, closed not your eyes, in a vision, you become  a goddess, you put on your dancing shoes, the beautiful dress they had judged, your hands  raised  and with no care of what the world thought, you danced your way to freedom. You cared not, they called you crazy, had they not smeared mud all over you already? They had done their worse, you expectations were less.

 The dance, never stopping, you danced in their heads, their lives, around them, before them, across, on them, them who had judged, it pissed them off, hate chocked them, they couldn’t stand it, they watched and with every step they had nothing more to judge, it amused them, too much that they judged themselves. 

They covered their loud mouths, lowered their eyes, walked in silence, solitude and fear of who they had become.Shame had invaded them.

You beat the drums, set the music for them to dance, but you cared not if they did, on and on you danced, only a few understood,but the dancing never stopped. 

 

Alone Loner

Am falling in a deep hole, too deep that I have given up help,

Dark, so dark that it has swallowed my will, afloat i go,my eyes closed,

This little space is suffocating me, it got my hands tied up, my eyes closed and my ears waxed, how is that I’ll ask for help, desperate,depressing, deep and deep i fall.

How is it possible when they all are watching, smiling at me? I need help.

Do they know i need help? Do they know their smile hurts me?

Oh,  are they stepping on me? Their toes are hot, the pain. 

The pleasure, tell me now, why am i finding pleasure in pain?

Ain’t this been too long? Someone please, i need out.

Where is that light at the end of the tunnel?  Am falling too deep,

Can someone rescue me? No, I forgot, there is a heavy chain around my neck, 

Where is the knight in a shinning armour? Get me that, or a dragon to breathe fire, to burn it up,

This hole needs some smoke, a signal to tell them, am still here.

Am relaxed,  feeling at home, am i making good out of a bad situation? Oh, the whisper, “it all gets better.”  Its soothing me, sending shivers, what did it say? Is my mind playing tricks? 

The higher power, its working,  I believe, I trust, but I need more light, oh God, dear Jesus, you got me?

Please rescue me, am still here, falling and hoping, my going down this hole, is my ladder to going up.

The dance to my song.

​I said,I crush on one who crushes on Adele. 

He then put up a post,” I crush on Adele. ”

I giggled and thought to myself,  I wish i was her, 

I wished out loud, then he said, “I have found one who is Adele.” 

And something magical happened,  in a place where nothing ever happened, 

I become one with Adele, I sang but the tune was too high, so it broke my voice , 

I crushed the cords and the music was no more sweet,the heels were too high, it disappointed.

He saw no more Adele, my voice repelled him and my songs he hated, no more applause, I pushed him rolling in the deep end, it was no more someone like me.

Then i realized, I couldn’t catch up, So i stopped, did it crush me? In tears i read, I become inspirational, until the day a passage talked to me, it said ” if they care,they will stay, you’ll not beg or change you for them to.” So i took the desperation,the begging,the pity party,the mirror me that I had adopted to please him, smeared all that with paint and made a new statue, one that i named me.

The heels fit and felt comfortable, the music, my music felt so sweet, the glamour and applause felt right, I took to the mirror and the smile was infectious, I didn’t know of a laughter so magical, my world, my paradise. I pleased me, and adored me, i become me, i crushed on me. 

So i wrote, i crush on me, 

He put up a post, ” I crush on Mary.” 

I sneered and thought to myself, ain’t it too late, I sympathize with you, just like Adele, you will crush, but it will be just that, crush.” 

I had  thought out loud. The tables had just turned.
In all you do, sing your song, how wrong it may feel, how irritating it may sound, how scary it may feel, how bad your voice may be, sing your song. If they don’t love it, love it, once you love it, they’ll love it, if they don’t,  it ain’t your fault that they are deaf?

Love, 

Mary.

The tale of the story teller.

I kept on wondering, why is it that i couldn’t write, not fiction, not real stories, nothing , i agree 2016 wasn’t really my year, it really did weigh down on me. It was a rough one. I can say, i understand why they say life does hit like a bitch. It took me a while to know why.

Feel me here, have you ever felt like you are drowning? That your hands were tied up, eyes closed and mouth  zipped? That you were being chocked up by your own mind? Thats how me not being able to write felt like, i just couldn’t  draw my inspiration, whatever i wrote felt lame and out of sense, until i realized, i was more than what i was made to feel.Thats right, it all started when i lost certain people in my life, first my grandma(may she rest in peace ) then someone else. Just out of college, no job, everyone else making it but you? I felt lost. So lost to a point that i wrote, “i am drowning, i need a life saver, am choking from what is supposed to save me, i give up, and hope the waters take me afloat.”

Being rejected, loving the wrong person, unrequited love call it, thats something we aren’t always ready for. It takes your will to do the things you love and before you know it, you miss out on alot of things. Yes, it killed me, what’s  worse than killing someone’s creativity, what’s  more worse than knowing your shadow is probably  better than you are, that you couldn’t get the one thing that most people can.  

Do you ever look back at some situations and wonder how they ever happened?  Situations that can make one aware of their flaws,that clouds your judgment, that opens doors for weakness,  what a broken heart can do. Dwell on a past that you really know it can never be, put something on hold for you are grieving, forgetting that life has to go on. That a heart got to feel what it got to feel, and some things we just can’t help but accept and move on.

So i realized i had to unclog that which was holding my mind captive and admit to myself that i was hurting, broken  and grieving and i had to let go, to accept that it did happen to me, that i wasn’t the first nor the last, that life just happens, once i did, i wrote

I wrote on my regrets for not writing, i wrote an apology for being me and for my heart not being captivating enough to capture a love that felt so wrong, i wrote an apology to me for being so caught up in a fairly tale land. I wrote a song, that i didn’t  want to let go, that i tried to fight hard, that i had to stay away though my heart was beating for him, that i was sorry he was hurting, trying to understand  if it was pride or just me that pushed him aside and that i hoped for a come back, of a healing process, of wishing for karma to take revenge  to moving on, to finding me. 

I wrote of a new found confidence, i wrote of new friends, laughter, tears, i wrote of a love song. I stayed on long nights to unwind of my tales on paper, i wrote of the things i couldn’t say, of a crush i had, of how afraid i was that that garden i was eying for had a owner. 

I wrote, my heart out and my mind was no more clouded, the tales of a story teller, and on and on she writes.

A touch of my dream.

Deep in my eyes he looked,

I could feel his eyes searching  deep in my soul, his mouth couldn’t move and yet we spoke of the same language. 

A dissapointed yet loving  voice he asked,

“How is it so that i belong to another yet my heart and being screams with love for you?

How do i go back in time and meet you before the other?”

His tears,i watched reach down, his tired heart broken for a love he couldn’t  have.

So bad i wanted to comfort  him, but how is it you comfort  one in your sleep? 

I walked away,but he couldn’t  bear,so he ran after me, overwhelmed with love,i smiled laughed,giggled and just as i was about to run in his arms, i stopped  and told my silly self to go back to sleep and if i was again to dream, it better be of glass shoes and a castle. 

 

Time and chance.

​Time and chance, words stuck in my head for the past few days like little pests determined not to let go.I sing time, dance to chance, Eat time, sleep chance. So  earlier today as i was sitting in my place of inspiration which happens to be in the washrooms, (Guessing its because of the solitude and you all once in a while come up with ideas from in there, don’t you?) I tried to figure out what those two words were  all about in the simplest of ways, which took me back in time, a while ago, when a group of friends from my primary school years decided to hold a get together party.

I wasn’t the coolest of kids back then,though i tried to blend in with the cool ones thanks to my grandma (may she rest in piece) i was determined to impress everyone at the party especially this one girl who always “got the guys “and in order to be kept in the circle of cool friends the less cool(that would be me) had to carry her bag home as she walked hand in hand with her prince charming, which by the way were numerous, how that used to make me jealous. My determination had me call my best friend,  plan on killer moves that would make everyone want to be us. 

We had to go in last at the party,duh! its game on. Basically  i am short, which most people find adorable, my floral stiletto dress and heels made me feel like a goddess, (Don’t blame me, i have never told my esteem to raise that high) and in we matched to the hall where the party was. The shock i got, In a minute i thought i was in the wrong place. Do you believe that people can change? I mean literally change. people whose faces looked familiar yet i could have sworn to never have seen them before. A mixture of people who seemed to be in their early thirties, teenagers, hard to believe we all once shared a class, harder to believe we all were in the same age group,  (16-20)if more twenty four.

“Our girl”had aged and with two kids, and jobless. Not just her, people who had a bright future back then were now the village drunks, with sad tales and money problems. I had no one to impress for no one cared being cool they all had problems. Only a few of us had managed to go to college. Its not that their parents couldn’t afford but because of the choices they made.Most of them like my granny used to say, had rushed life. They had jumped some steps in life.I was just a collage student, depending on my family for support and doing some odd jobs just in process of learning to be independent and save for the future, i was reminded of our teacher who kept telling us that one day some of us would look back and regret the time they wasted on irrelevant things. She always told us that we all had the same opportunity. How true she was. 

Blame free will, the choices some of us had made, we had fun and lots of catching up with some fake smiles hiding pain and some scorn. As i walked towards the bus stop, a car pulled on the other side of the road and the driver signalled me,( by signal i mean shouts my name) Oh! its the class nerd, he used to be, who gives me a ride back to the city in his car, were we in the same class? I have no idea.

How life changed for each one of us. Different people, given the same opportunity but time and chance working differently for them. Reminding me of, i have  seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all.

He had what he lacked.

​A story told by a lonely soul, one who had loved enough to hate love. He who had the heart to love, all that required love, but gave him none. He that grew weary of being nice,so he had to tell tales, of the one thing he owned but yet lacked, the thing he gave up on but hoped for, the tales of love. He looked at his audience with a priceless smile,that hid his sorrows too painful to make his tears. He said it was a love letter, read out loud for all the passersby to hear,his voice was not the most captivating of all, but i listened.

“To you my love, don’t  hate me for giving up, for showing my smile no more. It is the way it is, have i not been hurt enough? What is it i don’t  do that love keeps getting away? I love those that don’t  love me, funny how they too love those that don’t love them. Is  it my eyes, me being too nice, the way i walk or my personality? The pain when a girl rejects me. Then  i say, i will never smile again, but i do it, again and again.

My fantasies of a perfect love story, the craving for a friend, a family,a lover. My fears are of becoming a lonely old man, If only i could have one perfect love story. Many are times i have said to myself i will never love again, how right i was,not. My heart loves as much as it gets broken.

Over and over i have loved, only for it to be over before it starts, when i get over the pain, another comes  and the same cycle begins and all over again, i get crushed. Am a good one, with flaws and scars though but, what did i do for karma to deny me of love? More know of my desperation, have you not all called me a loner? I pretend to love being by myself, but do i have a choice? I have to love it. A friend told me that i had to love myself more, i did.Work on my esteem, my choices ,  i did and i have no more to do but to just hope for love.I see those that are favoured by love, and i keep asking, why can’t  i be like them? The irony of life,i am the love doctor, they all come to me for advice. This my beautiful audience, is to when love comes by, when love loves me, i hope then it will know,i have been hurt.”

He tells of a sorrowful love story.His audience i can tell haven’t paid him much attention but they’ve heard his story. He tells it everyday, “the lonely mad man” they call him. His stories, of how unfair this world is. His story today interests me, for of all the lonely souls seated around him, those of us passing by and those that hear of his story, we all are like him, lonely people seeking for one to fill in our empty souls, compassion and attention for us to be complete. Only a few of us have found it, those that haven’t, we either pretend to have or not talk about it. We go as far as forcing ourselves into unworthy relationships. Its no wonder people cry of broken hearts, unrequited love which all sometimes results  to “love sucks”

He is just a crazy loner but as i go home today,i know better to appreciate the love that i have,that which i give and that which i receive.

“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”