Will I Never Just be Enough

 

He leaned in to kiss her gently and said, “Darling you’re so beautiful. You’re so special. If only we weren’t so different.”

He gripped her in his fierce embrace and emerged from his delirious pleasure whispering, “You’re too good for me love.”

He sat next to her, held her hand in his, drank in her soul and told her, “you drive me mad sweetheart. But I’m sorry I want someone more like me”

They came and went. Each one so different. Each one seeing a different part of her. Each one falling just a little bit in love with her. With her pure aura. With her gentle heart. With her wild spirit. Each one drowned in her sea of magic. Each one took her with them.

But then they all swam ashore and left her suffocating under her ocean of mad passion and desire. Each fled when they realized that slowly they were sinking into the depths of her love. Each fled because they were afraid that if they let themselves drift deeper, they would forget to come up to breathe. Each of them fled because they couldn’t allow themselves to be prisoners in her cage.

And so they left her, a mermaid with a crown, a queen in her realm, to slowly turn into a monster. They left her with her mad grief, to save herself from the waves she created.

But, poor girl, she has no idea how to swim. She took off her crown to make herself lighter, but the weight of her pain bore her down. She took off her shells and gleaming pearls, but that only made her soul darker. She tried to scream out for help but her voice was caught in the raging tide.

So alone and tired, she lay among rocks and waited for death. Here she lies, her heart beating ever slower. Here she lies, her light slowly going out. Here she lies, he aura flickering off. And in her heart the melody replays…” I was too good for the bad boy. I was too wicked for the church guy. I was too good for the bad boy… I was too wicked for the good guy… I was too good… I was too wicked…”

“Will I never just be enough?”

Via Clover.

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What if we forget it all?

Wearing my slippers at the balcony and staring into the horizon…I wonder whether it’s true that everyone is in control of their destiny. I sip on vodka in the glass and gulp slowly…feeling it slowly stream down my throat.

What if we will never see each other again?

What if we forget to meet at Chicken Inn or KFC or our favorite cafe in the heart of the street?

If we forget the future we can still make it up to ourselves. We can get creative and build it with our hands, you know, like use clay, or carve a statue out of wood like we used to do in Art and Craft.

But what if we forget the past? What if our memories become ashes and the next time we see each other we don’t feel anything at all?

I do not want to feel nothing for you. I can’t even imagine you as a stranger. I can’t imagine walking by you indifferently; not holding hands as we’re used to.

I do not want to think that we will eventually ignore each other because there’s nothing worst than ignorance. What if all those precious memories we created go down like a house consumed by fire?

What will remain of us is just ash and melancholy. I do not want our love to become apathy. We were us. We were special, so alive together.

I’d become lifeless without you.

Okay I know what you’re thinking and yes, I have three hundred and fifty fears, but oblivion is my deepest one. Nothing like forgetting us attacks my lungs so unforgivingly.

I do not want to forget our moments of escape in paradise.

I do not want to forget all the pictures we took together. I delete some from my gallery but they keep on regenerating, why?

We had a reason to be so perfect at such an inconvenient time. And I do not want to let it go as I envisaged the best coming out of it. I am not ready to disregard my intensity of our short, vivid instants.

I am afraid to forget your sweet mellow voice and that you will forget mine.

I am afraid to forget the fervor I saw in your eyes when we met.

I am afraid to forget your sense of humor and hearty laughters.

I am afraid to forget our love.

I am afraid to forget the pace of our love, your smooth hands caressing me, goofy faces, wagging your tongue at me at a distant when we in public, and the quick glances we used to exchange only after a few hours after not seeing each other.

I am afraid to forget the late night and early morning conversations over the phone.

I am afraid to forget the cosy and comforting feeling of sleeping and waking up with your warm tender body wrapped in mine.

I am afraid to forget how intimate we can get.

I am afraid to forget that I said I’d be loyal and only belong to you.

I am afraid to forget all the songs we played and listened together and the fights of who was playing the next one.

I am afraid to forget all our first times.

I am afraid of how dolorous our goodbye has been.

I am afraid to forget how liquor tasted so better when we had it together.

I am afraid to lose myself as I lose memories.

I do not want to forget how the intensity of our love made me feel alive again.

I want to remember. I want to be able to recall those instances that made me fall in love even when we were gone.

Even when the pain is too much to bear, I want to feel you one more time.

But again, maybe I’m lost in my world alone, dreaming.

Tha Dreamchaser.

Via Fidash

“We Really Should Get You a Man”

He said I’m too nice I need a boyfriend. He said this with his lips on
my neck. He said this as his lips found mine and he drowned me in
passion and desire. He whispered this as I found myself so comfortable
in his hold, so content with his body pressed against mine. For a
second I thought I must have heard him wrong. For a second I thought
there is no way this man could be drinking in my soul while asking me
to find another. Later, when I lay in his arms, sweaty and breathing
deeply, I found myself wondering how messed up this is.

He kissed my forehead and held me close. He made me giggle and tickled
me- in all the spots he knows send me into playful fits. He let me
listen to his beating heart. And even quieted down into beautiful
silence just how he knows I like it sometimes. He let me play with his
neck and sit with my legs entwined around him. He listened to me
ramble on and on how I do when I’m giddy with hormones. He let me lie
on his shoulder in exhausted calm. And all this time I couldn’t
understand how he could be so blind.

He walked me home with my little palm in his. He kissed me as we
passed by a cackle of gossiping women by the market. He laughed when I
said I was high on ecstasy. He held my hand tighter when I asked him
to. But the fool still couldn’t see.

I took forever just to get on a bus… adorably moaning that I didn’t
wanna leave. So he stood there with me for what felt like hours. Just
talking. Laughing. Feeling each other. Finally when I couldn’t stay
any longer, he helped me get onto my ride home. As I hugged him and
gave it a gentle squeeze,  he kissed my cheek and said it again…
“Darling, you’re so incredibly sweet. We really should get you a man.”

Via Clover

Finding Something True. Perhaps One Day.

Perhaps one day, in another time, in another world. Perhaps then eros will be kind to me. Perhaps then it will be just the right time, at just the right place, at just the right moment.
Perhaps then we will find each other. Perhaps then we will stay. Perhaps then I will not be afraid to love you for knowing not if you will love me back. Perhaps then we will not need to think and rethink and think again. Perhaps then there will be no other one; no other mine or yours. No other heart I fear to hurt. No other’s life you wish to destroy. Perhaps then it will only be you and me.
Perhaps then you will look into my eyes and see your whole life etched in their sand. Perhaps then I will feel your heart beat and hear the rhythm to carry me to eternity. Perhaps then our lives will be nothing apart. Perhaps then we will be complete in each other.
Perhaps then I will stand by the shores of the ocean, watching the sun sink far into the waters. Perhaps you will walk up to me, a face never before seen, but a heart forever known.
And if not by the ocean, then perhaps in the fields of green at dusk. A lowly flower-picker blissful in her ways. Found by a man seeking a rose in its precious beauty.
And if not in the fields of green, then perhaps in the warmth of a coffee shop. Where I will sit alone reading Shakespeare, and you will find that every one of your senses directs you to me.
And if not in the ensnaring air of coffee, then perhaps in a crowded bus. With noises all round and chaos abound. Where a young woman will sit by the window, watching the rice fields and the woods fly past. Enamored of the sky in its blue and white and streaks of gray. Entranced in a world of her own, until the other half of her sits by her side, both unknowing of their fates intertwined.
And if not in a bus, then wherever it may be. If not while we are young, then whenever it will be. If not as we are, then whoever we shall be.
If only that in that time, in that space, in that world, we will find our way to each other.
Perhaps one day.
Via Clover.

PAIN

What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear or read the word pain. I will tell you my definition through a series of experience I’ve gone through in the few years I’ve existed on this rock that revolves around a star.

5 year old me was a confident wanna be adult. I talked fast and acted faster. And when I bolted to the kitchen to to make myself a cup of hot chocolate, no one saw me. I was a tiny being who was and is still height challenged. The hot water jug had been placed on the table and as I clumsily pulled it, it tilted and the hot scalding water poured on my chest. The pain was so immense that after I let out a blood curdling scream, I lost conscious.

The following 8 months were grueling agony of trying to heal. School, friends, birthday parties, playing, joy, became obsolete. I then yielded an unfamiliar companion and confidant, radio. My love for music, art and communication blossomed there. Sundowner, radio theater, educational episodes on KBC became ingrained in me and left an impact.

Heartbreak. I was living on cloud 9 first time I fell in love. Then it happened. I never knew love could hurt this bad. My self esteem was in shambles. I lost weight, mind and will to live. I went to a place I never knew existed in my head. Then I found Quran. I know its a cliche when people say “God saved me” but am a living testament. I created a relationship so strong, intense, personal and fulfilling with my God that has enabled me to tackle most challenges in life I’ve faced with certain confidence and assuarity.

Aug 2013,I received a notification from my bank stating that the cheque I had issued had bounced and I had been penalized. I was broke. I couldn’t fathom how I had reached here. Memories of the times I spent money on unnecessary things haunted me the same way our government is being haunted by corruption cases. I had to learn to live within my means. Gone were the days where I used to eat chicken like a caucasian. Nowadays I clean the chicken bones so good that my fellows brothers and sisters from the western community would be proud of me.

Fast forward, to Feb 2018. I had been transfered to Doha Qatar. Money, status quo, and living in the wealthiest country in the world. Yet I was living my worst nightmare. My skin color, gender and age were my shortcomings when it came to my occupation. I did everything, frkn being nice to get the whole office dunkin donuts for two months. Nothing worked. I loathed how I felt preparing myself going to work. I despised how my co workers treated me. I shuddered at the sound of Skype call because I knew it was nothing but it would be something that will totally make me feel depressed. As I lay in bed, I wondered how I got myself here.

That morning I woke up, picked my passport and left for the airport. I left all my worldly possession I had over there. I slept two days at the airport for there were no direct flights back home. All I knew is that I was done, and I wanted my piece and peace of mind. And that I wouldn’t find it anywhere else than back home with the people I love and the environment that my soul knew.

So señoritas and señors, physical, emotional, financial, occupational pains that I have gone through has created fundamentals aspects of these woman you see infront of you. What doesn’t kill, makes you stronger, and gives you unhealthy coping mechanism that helps you to waddle through this journey called life.

Thank you.

Via Nay Nay.

Did We?

Did we ever make pancakes together..? Did we ever just sit at your balcony with coffee and fruit and waffles just for brunch..? Did the charming smell of cinnamon and butter ever fill the air as we milled around the kitchen making breakfast..? Did we ever talk… bond… connect as we felt the morning breeze in our faces..?
Did I ever just sit next to you, quietly reading, while you watched your movie..? Did I ever so often flick my eyes from my pages to your face so crunched up in concentration and smile secretly..? Did you press pause on your theater tings to just plant a wet kiss on my cheek, then on my nose, then on my forehead, and finally on my lips, knowing that with that, book and movie would lie forgotten..?
Did we ever play scrabble and monopoly and scream and shout like little kids..?
Did we ever take a walk in the evening, just so you could see the sunset reflected in my eyes..?
Did we ever lie on the grass watching the stars, trying to count them as they stretched across the sky..?
Did we indulge in ice cream and cake, pizza and fries, until our tummies bulged and we felt slightly ill..?
Did we ever just bask in each others glow…
Were we ever just friends..
Were we ever just in love… simply in love… blissfully in love..
Via Clover.

The Unbecoming – I Miss You.

There are times when I miss you terribly. Your familiar laugh. Your familiar voice. The feel of your arms.
There are times when I just want to talk to you. When I want to tell you all about my day. How my stomach hurt so bad from I don’t know what. How I have these plans to buy an apartment but I barely have any money. How I have laughed and laughed about my horrible weekend and how it made a great blog.
There are days when all I miss is company. That warm, cosy place where I felt like home. Not just any other person or friend. You. You right next to me on the pillow. You walking beside me by the roadside. You just teasing. Laughing. Playing.
So fool that I am, I looked for you. I heard your voice and it broke me. Instead of flaring up all the anger I felt against you, I just wanted to hold on. I just wanted you to keep talking. About anything. About any damn subject. I hoped that you would feel my desperation on the other end of the line. That you would just say, “baby I miss you terribly. I’m coming home.”
But of course you didn’t. And a second later… silence. The line is already dead. And now I’m holding onto the phone, begging myself not to call you back. Begging myself not to succumb to this weakness. Because you don’t care. You don’t care enough.
All I’m left with is this beautiful song in my head, that I can’t shake off. This melody that I can’t share with you like I used to.
“Darling just put your soft lips on my lips… we will just kiss like real people do. Darling just put your sweet lips on my lips… we will just kiss like real people do…”
A ballad that is so wonderful it has me twirling by myself with my eyes closed. Drifting back to the days when the melodies played for two young things just locked in each other’s arms, swaying silently. Blissfully. I smile because it’s like you’re here… for those few minutes, it’s like we’re back to the way it all was.
But as the last chords gently float in the air, I feel you slipping through my fingers. I open my eyes at last, and I am all alone.
And I don’t know whether to be at peace or in pieces.
Via Clover

My beloved

……

Each day I have found myself thinking of you. I have felt my heart call out to you. I have wanted you and needed you. I have smiled with tears in my eyes. I have laughed and choked on a sob. I have loved you with every feeling of hate..

I have felt this desperate longing for you. I have thought of you when I woke up and as I slept. I have seen your face in my dreams. I have felt your arms around me in my fantasies. I have heard your voice calling out to me in the silence.

And I have realised that there’s nothing I can do about the fact that I love you. Nothing except just to let that love flow. Love is the most precious thing. It is the very essence of our being. It is God in His perfect form. it is the Universe in completion. And it is this flowing through me.

Love is beautiful. Yet it can also be agony. Love is heaven. But it can also be hell. For you I have tasted both heaven and hell. Both paradise and purgatory. I have had my entire world destroyed and rebuilt and destroyed again.

I have been filled and emptied at the same time. I have been left desperate and content. I have soared into the sky and plummeted into the abyss.

And at the heart of all this remains my love for you.

Not a love that can be measured or weighed. Not a love that is with reason or logic. Not a love that is with condition. The kind of love that allowed a Father to let His Son be crowned with shame and spite.The kind of love that shed blood for weak, lost souls. Perhaps not a love from such a perfect being, but a perfect love as a broken soul could give.

I have long tried to deny you this love. In the argument that you do not deserve it. Neither do you reciprocate it. Therefore how could you deserve it. So I have tried to kill it in anger and pain and bitterness.

But it is not mine to give or withhold. It is not a force I can control. It is not a power that is even within my bounds. It just is.

All I can do is let it flow. All I can do is release it upon the Earth.

Perhaps if you see it not, perhaps if you know it not, perhaps if you want it not, I will learn to live with it. Perhaps I will learn to rejoice in it’s transforming nature over every other being, even if not the one I desire. Perhaps I can believe that the sun is just a bit more golden, that the sky is just an inkier blue, that the grass and the trees are that much greener, because I allowed the purest part of me to live and be free.

Via Clover.

Dear Future Husband

I wasn’t entirely sure why I want to write to you, but now as I start, I realize that it’s more of an apology than anything else.

When I was younger, I always believed that meeting you would be so soon, it would be so immediate; because I always thought that my life belonged to you and would be defined by you.

Of course, I fell in love with the first man that swept me off my feet. Fool that I am, I was so wrapped up in my fantasies and dreams that I couldn’t see everything that was wrong with it. I couldn’t see that this was something so twisted. And every time that it hurt, every time I cried, I told myself that all I needed to do was hold on tighter; fight harder- even if that meant that my knuckles bruised and my heart bled.

See, that’s the type of person that I am. I have never been afraid to love, and when I do, I just dive into it with all that I’ve got. I don’t know how to play games. I don’t know how to limit myself. I just give with an almost insane desire to just wrap one’s world in the light of mine.

This in itself, is so freeing. To submit to love and the fierce will, it exerts upon man. I read somewhere that few are ever strong enough to allow love to inhabit their souls like that. Few are ever strong enough to surrender control of their lives to this force.

Yet I don’t know if this makes me strong or weak. Because while I know what unconditional love looks like, or at least, just a bit of it, it is also this same thing that has caused me such agony. For love, I have felt pain as real and thick as a person, living and breathing in the inside of me. For love, I have been broken, consistently, repeatedly… but I never seem to learn.

But as I sit here, fighting to not be bitter, I realize that with every broken bone, my heart turned a bit darker. With every stab, the light in me went dimmer. With every cold rejection, the little girl in me dies.

I always wanted that the woman you meet is pure, inside and out. I ever imagined that the moment I met you, I would just know. You would only do. And from that moment on, everything would be perfect. Not because we are perfect, no, for how can there ever be an ideal kind of person. But because we would both be wrapped in a perfect sort of magic that would echo the song in our joined souls. That we would walk, no longer two, but 1 being. (Maybe I watched too many movies.)

Now I fear that if you ever find me, it would be this being, half alive, desperately holding onto grace but falling ever deeper into the abyss. Now I fear that if I ever find you, you won’t be the man I always prayed for and dreamed about- and I have no idea if that will be acceptable to me. Now I fear that perhaps you don’t even exist, for how could you be, but the Universe let the other side of you weep and bleed..?

Perhaps my most significant apology is that slowly I feel myself turning into what this world has made me. A skeptic. A cold soul. A hopeless spirit. My biggest apology is that if you show up, I may be sucked in too deep into the darkness, that I may not even recognize you at all. I don’t know if that’s the worst tragedy really. Oh well, such is life I suppose.

Via Clover

A Girl Named Happiness.

She’s this type of person that just pours all that she is into others.

She finds that all she needs is to find someone who will just listen.

Someone who will just humor her. Who will just take it all in and look at her like she’s more than just crazy. Like she’s just such a breath of life, of fresh air. This is the kind of affection and attention she craves the most.

So what happens is that when she meets someone who will accord her this, she just dives into it. She finds herself talking. Giving.

She becomes a fountain unending, a fountain forever flowing. She finds that she has this need to fill in her own empty space by filling another’s soul.

She fears that within her is this hole that she craves to have filled, yet cannot find solace nor this spring. She fears that she is forever condemned to long for this water without ever quenching her thirst.

She feels like a wanderer. Without a home or haven. She feels like in the depths of her is a little girl that wants to be seen.

Right now this little girl wants to dance to Indie Rock. She wants to sit on a rooftop and watch the stars. She wants to dance in the rain.

Splash and play under the raindrops until her hair is stuck to her face and she is breathless with exhilaration.

She wants to run between the trees in a forest. To just run as she disengages from every load that burdens her.

She wants to get high and lie on the grass watching the sky. She wants to sit on a hill and feel the sun on her face. She wants to watch the sun blaze red as it sinks lower and lower.

She wants to pour paints on a canvas- abstract mixtures of red and green and yellow and blue. All the colors of a rainbow in a mess that makes no sense but is so beautiful because it is her soul.

She wants the beauty of passion. She wants to feel arms around her.

Hugging her tight. She wants to feel lips on her neck. Tickling all her sensitive spots.

She wants to feel delirious laughter rising from the inside of her as love twirls her to music unheard and melodies only she can hear.

She wants to be wild and free. Wild and free like a bird. She wants to soar across the skies. She wants to watch the earth from on high.

She wants to take flight and leave behind all her fears.

She wants to free her soul.

Via Maggie Mungai.