Thanks.

Hapo vipi, the question made me insecure, terrified actually because at the moment I was blank.
Scratching​ my head wondering.
In my defense, I didn’t promise perfection, I didn’t say a monster doesn’t exist in me, the other side, so to speak.
How do you calm the storm with no power?

Do you borrow it, buy it or steal it from a mysterious entity?
The songs played on in the background but to him, the beat turned sour, at heart, the pain grew as the depth he dove in grew deeper by each memory, the feel of miss, the kiss that blew he off his feet, the effect on ice when exposed to heat, this she made he feel, needs​ she more than he, the pain engulfed his chest, flame burns but doesn’t consume, the comfort was only brought from the joy of our meet, he is longing much for she, am addicted, like a junkie am hooked to this drug, love, for she, these​ feelings​ brought back to the icebox of a heart, lost as a boomerang, the irony of that is not.
The origin far as east and west but at the middle was the meet, that cool night that followed Valentine, remember a time spent, that was the start of a new journey, through that path, look back and see how far we roll back, like a movie we play, script written by the steps we move by, she my lady, she my queen, am talking chess, she my freak in the, he calls she the piece and he that other, the halves that became one over time, join the dots and see, through the storms and shines we basked in, under the moonlight and stars representing memories made, vintage as ancient art, the things we have done date back to our time, he believes​ she the one and only under the sun, she his and he her’s, call me cupids victim, he fell hard for her as fast as that arrow shot straight through, bled red, and she nursed the love wound, on this land we grow from, our world.
I guess she planted this tree that grew and now shades we, love her and love her and love her, she’s​ once, twice, three times my lady, like Linole kinda quoted.

Am talking​.

Am taking fear.

Something that I’ve had over the years, am talking fear.

Of things that have broken me down to tears, am talking fear.

I get emotional whenever these feelings creep near, am talking fear.

Of things that are attached to me so dear, am talking fear.

Blessed with the gift of living forever but with this pain, am talking fear.

Of insecurities and a shift in my self esteem, am talking fear.

Of not achieving the purpose that’s mine, am talking fear.

In this ever changing development and growth, the shift between the layer of evolution of life, fear affects even the strongest among.

Am talking fear.

Of the sin I’m born with, the curse, the rise and fall.

Am talking me.

For am still looking.

Am talking he.

For trying.

Am talking she.

Because the explanation doesn’t seem to make sense.

Am talking fear.

For the tongue is mighty powerful as a tool.