Lost Hope.

Of wretched dreams and wringing desires...

I hope the morning sun still makes you smile,

And that your laughter still makes a breeze on the tingling grass,

I hope that the music in the west makes you dance,

And the moonlight exhilarates your pores,

Maria I hope you’re happy.

I hope life has not been a cruel mother in law, but a loving father,

That you learnt the horizon is not too far neither the sky too high,

That you can be sweet at heart but tough in the head,

And that nothing is worth those silver droplets.

Maria, I hope you finally comprehended the your beauty,

And understood your blessed frame work,

I hope you adapted to love without limits, to dream, to hope.

That wherever you may be you still are,

I hope you are brave, bold and strong.

Above all my angel,

I hope you forgive me.

Heart for hire.

So love's not a game for two anymore,
And where the mind strays so does the heart prevail,
If all was in vain,
From the kisses, the texts to the walks in the rain,
Look into my eyes and let me know it's worth the pain.

My father once told me,
'son a woman ain't meant to be loved '
I thought twas just the good old grace,
Now I realise that two is just a number,
Very divisible,too bad if the one can't carry on.

Again I'm on display,
But this time it's a different kind of emotion,
Not to love, not to care,
Mine's just a heart for hire.

21 Questions.

Why? What? When? Where? Who? How?
These ran perfectly in her mind as the facade had to run off. Beautiful shades of scarlet. Almost blinding, well life has never been easy, never was, never will be. Seems like this had become a rhythm of some sort too bad she didn't have her dancing shoes.

There were voices in her head. some saying Yes others screaming quite the opposite. making a choice isn't something she was accustomed to. Sometimes it felt really bad, it drove her crazy mad. you know the kind of crazy that makes one feel the urge to meet God. Like would it be easier to pull the trigger, or stab her belly numb. Oh! How about the razor cuts. Well she had contemplated many, but of the twenty one options she had tried fifteen and they were all dead ends.

They called her Princess. Her beautiful smile and perfect frames of womanhood made all the girls jealous, Just a minute, behind the closed doors, who was princess? An embodiment of beauty, scarred with mental distress and emotional pain. What's the point of happiness when all she had were fake smiles?

well loneliness does kill, good thing this time she actually had the guts to pull the trigger. Damn the scarlet. 21 questions were finally quietly silenced. 

Scarred Petals..

So what's beauty without life?
Stale memories void of joy,
Just what's that feeling of emptiness?
That hole in our hearts that doesn't cease to deepen?

We don't say goodbye to tattooed memories,
To love unending,
To  a life well lived,
To an angel stuck in between.

The beauty of being human is that we all hurt,
So I'm here trying to fit in the black patterns,
Soothing snorts to hide the pain,
A perfect mass of dumb hurt.

Ma,
Unbreak my heart, uncry my tears,
Make this pain cease and the hurt halt,
If I had a wish,
I'd give you a thousand lives,
A perfect dose of happiness
And all the health in the world.
But I'll give you roses,
Because that's all you can take now.

They say you don't know what you've got till it's gone,
Sure lacking has made me understand what it meant to have,
So as I watch the rain drip on your grave,
I believe memories don't fade,
And love, love is a gift you so much gave.

Till we meet again,
I believe there's more to all this,
Than just the scattered scarred petals.


For Alphonsina. RIP.
#chroniclesofadeadpoet

Perfect Love..

Hold up..this isn't about the crazy overrated fairytales of perfectly manicured princesses and proper gentlemen. No, this isn't about chocolate and flowers or of girls who can cook, clean and still do you good. Nop this is about love.

For months I wore make up and paid extra attention to how I walk and dress with hope that Mr.  Right would bump into me.  Obviously I didn't want to ruin the first expression moment.  Well, as life turns out to be awfully unfair I met him all rained on, shivering like a lost duckling,  sticky clothes and miserable ( it was totally awful) hair. Trust me it didn't end there.

Anyways just what is perfect love? Love without flaws without blemish. You know the kind of Boris and Nicole kinda couple. Ladies, snap out of this! For goodness sake those Mexican soap operas are just hopeless plots! Trust me if you're waiting on your poor man to buy you flowers, serenade you every five minutes, remember just how you like your coffee blah blah blah sister Jesus is coming soon, He's the man for you!
Okay, I'm not saying that you should accept a sissy as a man. No. Just let your man be a man. Honey, there's no perfect love. Love is the perfect weaving of two imperfect people who perfectly know each other's flawlessness and still see them as perfectly beautiful 😊  You can read that again ma'am.

You see, at the start of many relationships we tend to be blinded by so many things that we actually assume our partner's shortcomings. As the relationship grows deeper the flaws becomes all over sudden magnified. Like thoroughly zoomed out. Now here's where the real test of love sets in. Sweetie he was all funny and cute till you realise he actually has smelly feet you can't just assume anymore. Or hey she was this sex goddess and now she can't even wash her own face.

Then it reaches a point where you get to realise whether you were in love, obsessed, infatuated or plainly lustful. They all kinda wear off. And when you truly love someone you just don't dash out the door because suddenly you realised they ain't as good as you thought they were. You embrace them..darling I'm not saying you go suck those smelly toes..ahah I'd rather die😉  what I mean is you help that person get over it. Like hey hun why not get home remedies for smelly feet. Change your sock brand. Something like that.

I'd like to sugar coat this but perfect love does NOT exist. Oh please we all know unless he's in diapers; you can't change a man. But who wants a change man when we can just create a better version of him??? So dear sisters quit looking for the perfect guy! ( Unless it's the movie of course!) Before you let anyone love you, love yourself. Only then will you realise how much of a kinky bi*** you are to handle. It's 10 times worse for your man.

Don't forget, love is imperfect, full of flaws. We all know a happy woman is either bisexual or cheating. We'll whine and do all that because we love you! Look into your partner's eyes and forget the damn smelly feet for Christ's sake! It's your life..your relationship..your man. Make him YOURS!

As my nigga John legend sung ' love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections '

So sweethearts just as he ain't perfect, you ain't too. Sit down and love that gracious mess that's your man. It's worth every bit.😊

Between our love..

Tell me love,
Between you and I,
Between these two racing hearts,
Between the long stares and tattooed memories,
What lies between our love?

We cried and laughed,a little giggle in between,
We fought and made up,
We scream yet whisper love quotes,
But in between,lies just us,
Between our love,
There's you and I.

When the world stops spinning,
And hearts stop beating,
When I can't touch you anymore,
And you can't feel the joy in my laughter,
Don't ever forget one thing,
Between our love,
We lay still.

Untouched,unreachable even dead,
I'll try to remember your smile,
And hope you'll do mine,
Because between our love,
I feel nothing,
I see nothing,
I am nothing.

Between our love is there hope for a future?
Do you trust me enough to let me see,
Is there truth?
I want to know beyond us,
What lies between us,
Between our love,
Is there love?

For my Mulaimu.
#chroniclesofadeadpoet.

Red dotted pain.

While the pastor promised of all my scarlets kinda bleached to white,
You constantly turn my sheets deathly red,
Well all that's crimson ain't a sin,
But with you I can murder to halt the pain.

If I could erase your memory,
I'd make you skip the monthly scare,
And totally forget you were here,
And if only you were human,
I'd let the devil take your breathe away.

One plus one may equal two,
But with you around we'll just remain as odd,
As I toss and turn all night,
Curse and bless you I just might,
As they say; the beauty of a butterfly,
Is in it's freedom.

I try to embrace the beauty in you Red dotted pain,
The edge in my womanhood terrain.