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.


He saw the world in a different perspective, human yet not.

And that was just not but the creepy part, my name is given at birth, born at a number that was brought to life, a representative repetition of the pronouncing breath.

The tongue is mighty powerful, remember that in the end you are what you preach.

Peace be with you at your darkest hour.

I contemplated thoughts, I exposed myself to my fears, I weakened and that vulnerability took root, work was at play and others knelt down and prayed. 

Was it an, exosim?

Look within and find yourself, your voice is sound that can either be liked, disliked or tolerated.

I’m a demented monster struggling to find some angels.

Corrupted like a government sworn to satisfy it’s needs, up and about in the fields they grow it, a plantation exposing the reality behind the truth, born and raised as a child.

Did mama teach me right?

Alone I stood, as the wind blew he walked, the feelings within scrumbled and grew, looking back was the final blow, ouch!

Now he walked with a twitch and a glow, limping along the path before he disappeared, things just got weird.


I expected too much, my heart beat faded for a while as I struggled to breathe.

For as much as the past has beauty, the worst happened too and that has pushed me away, dreams are bittersweet, reality is now torture, I wake up and regret why, I hate mine, am tormented by these memories.

Tears are my neverending fountain of pain.

Being numb shuts everything and everyone out, only a few know how to pass that barrier and when they do, the real me waits patiently.

I’ve stubbed myself time and time again and I still live.

If I.

In anger, we rocked, things changed and the embrace is the reality that is rooted to the origin.

At heart is a conflict, battlefield games now as we killing each other emotionally, people are ruthless, we all have that ‘devil’ in us but the difference is going to come in factor when you decide to roll with whom.

Memories are sweet, the most exquisite delicacies, and the others that scratch old wounds.

Insanity is only a switch away, flip and see all that comes after.

The End at Start.

All I did was love, now am being punished for a crime I know not how I committed.

I’ve tried everything, I even tried to open myself up to her, I did all that was requested.

I drained my blood, drunk it and filled everything within me with the harsh reality.

Numb I became, I froze in time and everything else and everyone else moved, emotions can create or destroy and my destraction had just began, every word spoken and moment spent in that moment killed him within as it did her, I guess.

No one understands what I mean, not even the ones I once trusted​, I grew distant and at one I realized.

Personas in conflict.


My soul is out there, lost.

Walking life as the path intended, I reason that we all sinners from birth, you fight yourself till you eventually succeed or fail, test, hard work pays and this is advice, relax and remember, you have the time to be because you’re blessed, God’s child.

The twist within being a cursed blessing, is nothing, it just depends on your view.