hurt, LDR, love, poems, poetry, The Journey

The problem with distance.

Map – Shortest path between Abuja and Milwaukeehttp://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/distanceresult.html?p1=742&p2=158

Distance is 9765 kilometers or 6068 miles or 5273 nautical miles

You wound me,

Gently and quietly but surely.

You scrape and scratch

Peels and flakes of scabs

Old wounds opened

New ones inflicted.

 

A warm hot cloth,

Ointment and balm,

Plaster and a kiss.

You nurse me and patch me up.

 

Sharp words! I cut you

Slashing through your armor to pierce your heart.

Bleeding love.

Puddle of shock and pain,

Bleeding love.

Words I can’t take back

I’m sorry…

 

I need a  moment

Arteries heal, veins reconnect  me to you

I need a moment.

You breathe me in and hide me in your beating heart.

This is worth it

I fought for this and will hold on. 

 

Forgiveness

 

We start over

laughter and joy

Happiness and fun

Broken but whole

 

Why were we broken?

Not seeing or gaging reactions we blow out of proportion what could have been healed with a simple smile or laugh or joke

 

Yet we wound because we cannot feel or see,

We wound.

                     All pictures are not mine. Can be found online.

But the write up and post is. No unauthorized usage of any post found on Atomic words. All property used should be linked back to this blog.

Thank you.

 

 

 

hurt, Musings, Silence

SILENCE (1).

A mix of fiction and reality. Welcome to the stories of the unheard.

My name is Amina, I am a twelve year old girl. This is the story of my life, short as it may be. Most of you don’t know me, some of you think you know me, others just ignore knowing me. But the thing is, I am not just telling my story, it’s about all the female children like me. I am speaking out on behalf of the girls my age and older. What you don’t know is that I am not supposed to tell this story to you. My tradition, culture and people support the happenings in my place of dwelling. If they didn’t, it wouldn’t be an issue, unless it’s a secret and I am not supposed to tell (oops, in that case then ssshhhhh…..).

But you see, I don’t know any other world apart from the one I live in, and the things I see affect me and others too. The sad thing is that the trend continues and it has the same pattern. This pattern isn’t just at my place; it’s an intricate thread work that has been laced into the entire quilt of our existence. I am not saying that there aren’t exceptions to this trend, I am just saying that it’s too common, outdated and out of style and season.

I know I am not supposed to complain since it is the way things have been since before I was born, and though it did not start with me, I want it to end with me. I know my fate; it’s inevitable, I have accepted it and go through with all that is expected of me. Putting on a brave smile; as I am expected to be acceptant, submissive and even worse; happy about this.

I cry out not just for me, I cry out for the thousands, millions with no voice or too scared to speak, terrified of being heard, petrified of the repercussions of their voices being heard. So they keep silent, indeed silence is the best policy because women are seen and not heard.

Men first, then children, then cattle, possessions and then women. Just like a piece of cloth in the market place, we are available by the millions.

Plenty and disposable.

We are like properties owned first by our parents, then traded off to bring in better streams of income. Please don’t get me wrong, I am not talking of child trafficking, or physical slavery, I am talking about the common practices in our communities which is far worse because it sinks deep and it’s lines are woven finely into our minds and we have fallen deep into the quick sand of its control that our minds are now slaves to it.

We are secure when we say nothing about it and our health and peace of mind is the better for it. I would not go as far as to say that the male child has it better, but I think it.

After all a girl can only bring her family honor (and financial security) in only one way; Marriage.

I am a child, not a woman. Yet I have lost my childhood. That innocence that only a child can possess. Now I have become a woman and most put childish things away, after all, my own child will arrive in a few months, yet I wonder daily what I would teach him or her when I myself I’m just beginning to learn.

Image

http://www.bing.com/images/searchq=silence+gifs&view=detailv2

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LDR, love, Musings, poems, Uncategorized

MY BLUE CHRISTM…

 

‘’ I’m dreaming of a white Christmas’’.

Of course I am. Never had one, seen countless in movies and carols.

Yet I had the promise of one. Funny, it’s still mine if I want it. Given on a platter of gold, no strings attached.

This could be the year of something new, fresh, mysterious and all my own.

           Instead, I let the harmattan come in, bringing doubts and fear along with it. Freeing my snow at night and melting it with the morning dew.

 filling up my walkway with chips of ice, turning it to a deceptively beautiful scene, giving the illusion of a smooth, slippery, thin surface, solid and perfect enough for skating, just to break and cave in the moment you are gullible enough to step on.

So while you were building castles in the air, believing that I was right there floating on cloud nine, I was slowly drifting away, till I free fell. Landed on a concrete and broke my wings.

‘’ I ‘m wide awake!’’ aware of all you’re offering, wanting to believe in it. Wanting to let go, stick my tongue out and just taste the snow.

 Yet something holds me back. A wall so high blocking me, a hand  tightly gripping my arm.

           You see, I was comfortable just staying put, but you changed that.

Was happy watching you chip away at the wall piece by piece, brick by brick, just to replace those you dislodged or broke.

See!!!… I was content!

Yet you reminded me of my healed wings, coaxing me to trust and take flight again, to just believe and fly over the wall and break away, to leave the cold, blue world I had erected.

Leaving all my blue Christmases behind and looking forward to a white one with you.

Finally I am ready to stick out my tongue and taste the snow, knowing that even if the cold stings, I’ll be too warm to notice.

 Image

http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=blue+christmas+gifs&view=detail