No one doubts that you’re in pain when you’re walking around bleeding. You’re lucky, if someone believes you’re hurt, without you having to forcibly cut off an arm.
Naira was fine. She was perfect. There wasn’t a scratch on her. She was just about to throw herself off the top of a high-rise, that was all. And what was so special about that?
Everyone had problems. Anyone who thought their problems deserved attention just wasn’t trying hard enough to solve them. Right?
War was hard. Poverty was hard. Going out to break you’re back trying to make money was hard. But when “war is at the doorstep, what do you expect to do?” Stand still and be quiet?
Marriage? You couldn’t possibly be complaining about being married. You wanted to be married, didn’t you? Learning your partner’s personality, his tendencies, his flaws. That was your responsibility, wasn’t it?
No one asks for international tensions. No one leaves his mother’s womb asking Allah to make him poor. But you, you made a choice, gave a vow. It was a commitment no one forced you into. You deal with it.
He never even hit you. Why are you unhappy? Others have it worse, Naira. Other women get new bruises every day. Do you see them leaving their husbands? That’s right.
You deal with the yelling. And the things he says. In front of your parents, in front of your brothers and sisters, in front of your co-workers. What was the worst they could do anyway? They were just words.
See, you’re fine. Naira, you’re perfect. Not a scratch on you. In all of ten years, not a bruise on you. And—
You’re tired. And that’s okay. You did everything you could.
It’s time to make yourself well.
All relationships lie somewhere in the middle of healthy and unhealthy at any given time. That’s why it’s important to identify the patterns and behaviors of our own relationships. Because relationships that visit the unhealthy area one too many instances tend to like to stay there.
“After Rain Skies” (a compilation of true and inspiring stories of abuse and violence) will be out in all platforms worldwide on MARCH 8, 2022.
we could argue overnight for the rest of our lives we could go on blame throwing in streak of fives but baby there is no denying between our pride and our love, the latter takes on by landslide
we could squabble over petty trivial matter we could bring on particular details to be clear but baby we’ve loved each other even before we knew that love exists between two friends in feud
we could be crazy and wait for decades more we could be silly and let things get loose further but baby we we knew we can’t afford to squander more years and more memories as we ponder
we could persistently ignore the reality we could always care less with brutality but baby we knew we are both miserable apart for our lives evolve around us together to start
so baby trust me when i say we were never friends to begin with i’ve loved you for years and years and will love you for more years i’d say the cheesiest line you’d probably hear please don’t laugh hear me when i say
“make me the happiest poet in the world and spend the rest of your life with me”
A Zombie Life of Its Own (A whimsical poetic zombie tale)
i remember writing poetry through a typewriter beating deadlines back then as a campus journalist. computer was born nearly when i was ’bout to finish school from floppy diskette to cd to usb and heaven knows what will come next. now beating the deadline is as easy as 1 2 3 or buying an ice cream at your nearest ice cream parlor. thanks to, high speed computer and internet connections. i just have one concern ‘though my fingers get tired and weary so i am not sure if i can call it a blessing or a curse. as everyday my tiny little fingers seem to get a zombie life of its own it just can’t stop typing words and verses lines and stories and poems and essays. sometimes i get so scared as my fingers don’t just have a zombie life of its own rather it has a mind of its own, that even when my mind shuts down it never stops writing ….. words just came flowing… thoughts just came rolling…
the moon envy my midnight soul for it shines brightly as it ever had now that your heart has been thawed from being frozen for so long without even knowing why without even asking why but one thing is sure my dear your unfrozen heart has made my soul euphoric and alive and ecstatic that even the moon has been jealous of
Happy Valentines Day, dear poets and friends. 🧡 Do you ever feel that Valentine’s Day is just a product of our creative imagination made possible by brilliant marketing strategy?
I Wish Valentine’s Day Is Just Another Day
i wish Valentine’s Day is just a product of the creative imagination of poets and creatives alike to generate monetary compensation and to further their pursuit of recognition and epic breakthrough but it isn’t.
and so this day is just another epic day reminder “whatever happened to us?” another day for regrets and blame throwing “where did i go wrong?” another day for what if’s and what could have been’s just another day.
i wish Valentine’s Day is just a product of the creative imagination of poets and creatives alike so that i won’t be sitting here alone counting the years and counting the times it could have been me, you celebrating Valentine’s Day with over romantic dinner in a fancy restaurant but it wasn’t me.
and so this day is just another day full of remorse and guilt had i been brave enough to fight for my love, would i end up holding your hand today? another day to feel sorry for all that i was and all that i failed to do just another day.
i wish Valentine’s Day is just another ordinary day so that i don’t need to go through over and over again, feeling the pain of not being the one chosen, of not being the one loved of not being the one you celebrated Valentine’s Day with for the last years or so.