I know pain ,
I have felt her in my soul
Tasted her on my tongue
Her taste leaving behind
Bitterness and rage ,
Locked away in a cage ,
My story is written on one page
I have been broken

Shattered , I have been hopeless
With no dreams of tomorrow
Mine has been a tale of sorrow .

I know pain
Faithful she has been
To my body she would cling
Stripping me of joy
No voice would answer when I called
Pain has been my blanket in the cold ,
She came bearing empty promises
Of laughter and a good home
I have lost it all
A stranger to love I am
Happiness left just as fast as she came ,
I know pain
I may not know laughter but I do know pain
For I have stayed with her ,
Dined with her ,
Like a lover I am never without her ,
Her fingerprints are tattered on my skin ,
No soap can ever wash me clean
Of her marks
The sickening feel of her arrival ,
Forever in my mind
Her knock on the doors of my soul

Never gets old
Worn out
My lover pain
Has left me withered .

By Nonsikelelo Moyo

The post I Know the Pain~ By Nonsikelelo Moyo appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

We live in the age of highlights
Smiles are uploaded , struggles are archived
Strength is filtered , pain is cropped

But mental health does not live in captions
It lives in the quiet spaces , between
Expectations and exhaustion , faith and fear
Success and silence

I learned this the hard way
There was a time I thought strength meant endurance without confession
That resilience meant silence . That being okay was a responsibility not a reality
I could motivate others , show up for people , lead , build , create ,
Yet still go home internally empty . functioning but not fine

Mental health struggles rarely arrive with announcements

They arrive disguised as fatigue , irritability , loss of joy ,
Spiritual dryness , disconnection
A constant mental noise you cannot switch off

In many of our communities we are taught to pray but not always to process ,
To believe but not always to speak
To endure but not always to feel ,

Yet healing begins where honesty enters ,
Let us speak
Let us listen
Let us heal , out loud.

By MAKHOSINI S MPOFU

The post The Quiet Battles We Don’t Post About~ By MAKHOSINI S MPOFU appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

POEM:

Do you remember?

When we laughed without fear,

The days of milk and honey

Back when we lived for today

Never afraid of tomorrow

Smiles decorated our child like faces

As we twirled and danced our fears away

Offsprings of love and peace

Naive to the world and its rage

We held on to hope

Never letting the sun set on our dreams

Yes, we did fall

Only to get up and glide ourselves with our armor of faith and resilience

Yes, we did break,

Only to rebuild ourselves into towers unbreakable

Do you remember?

When we walked hand in hand

We were a force, an army unshakable

You stood for me

I fought for you.

Long gone are our days of unity

Old are the tales of our victories

Do you remember?

It has all passed.

POEM BY: Nonsikelelo Moyo

Social media: Facebook

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The post Do you remember~ By Nonsikelelo Moyo appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

I manifested all the great things I yearned for before this year began. The peace, the love, the abundance, the courage, the aura….. Literally anything you may think of when you picture in your mind when it comes to the wishes of the lady in her late 20s. Guess what?. . . Instead of turning the tables, they turned me. The late-night cries exceeded, and sometimes I failed to get some sleep. Appearing joyful while my heart bled within felt like unwavering hypocrisy. Thinking about the beautiful life I craved in comparison to the nightmare I struggle in, broke my hope into tiny pieces that are difficult to fix.

Some days felt so heavy, and moments lasted longer than they should have. I was completely shattered,left in deep thought, like… “Where did I do wrong?!, Am I really a good person?, Why does almost everyone seem to be so disappointing?” I fumbled. As people celebrated the new year season, I was busy fixing and picking up the leftovers from the previous one.

The emotional roller-coaster continued until one day I received shocking news that even my closest friend could not handle with a positive attitude. Some of them cried out of pity, while others were caught in the moment of silence.

I went numb, completely not knowing how to feel at the moment. The series of storms left me overwhelmed, with no strength to carry another burden. As I was stuck, I looked around to see everyone’s reaction, and, in surprise, I was the only one calm and unbothered at the moment. Suddenly, I gained insight into one of the greatest lessons of my life, one I had always heard but had never experienced firsthand, to make it real. That lesson was “We are who we are because of other people’s eyes. Our beliefs and attitudes are shaped by how other people perceive us, not by what we ought to be good for ourselves. The way we dress, behave, communicate, love, feel and express ourselves relies mostly to the expectations of other people and not our own preference”

For the first time, I felt free from other people’s expectations. Being hurt and calm left them no room to judge me for how I feel or how I react. Just because they could also feel the pain, it did not give them the power to weigh me down. Such an emotional regulation moment was everything I had hoped for, and I even remembered all the manifestations I had made before.

I speak with courage and confidence to whoever is reading this by letting you know that “Our brains are wired with extraordinary power. The key to using that power fully lies in understanding that the brain cannot distinguish between reality and imagination — it responds to whatever it is fed.” Always imagine the best from every scenario, expect good news, embrace every moment with gratitude, and see how tables turn around without moving your chair. It is true that you cannot think your way out of a certain feeling, because even heaven cries. You can feel the way you want by changing your thinking, since happiness is a state of mind.

I hope you found this insightful. I wish you all the best in your journey of discovery.

Written by: Dativa Mugashe

Social media:

Instagram: real_datty

Instagram

The post January Favour ~ By Dativa Mugashe appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

Mirror, Mirror. Who’s the prettiest of them all?
Not me. Certainly.

Look at all the beauties out there.
Surely, have you seen my crooked smile?
What about my pimples?
And what about my big ears?
Oh, how glad I am that you can only see my face.
For I hear my legs are manly, far from beautiful
Compared to how a woman’s should look.

Mirror, Mirror. Who’s the most creative of them all?
It surely can’t be me.

Do I sing better than those Divas?
I’m not sure I can even tie their shoes.
Could I possibly write better
than the outstanding poets out there?
My pen must not be sharp enough.

Mirror, Mirror. Godly Mirror, tell me:
Who am I? Tell me what You see?

Gladly, Mirror answers:
I am glad you finally asked.
You finally chose the right mirror.
It is not the flaws that I see;
I see beauty in the flaws
because I allowed them,
That I may fill them with my Light.

Poem By: Rasanganea Uwantege

The post Mirror Mirror ~By Rasanganea Uwantege appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

The Morning After

One morning,
she’ll find herself
scrubbing her body too hard.
trying to peel off
the fingerprints he left behind.
not just on her skin
but in the corners of her silence.

The water will burn,
but not as much as the memory.
She’ll cry without sound,
because screaming
never helped her then either.
She said no
but the room swallowed her voice.
he heard power, not pain.
took what was never his
and left her shattered
in a world that still asks
“what were you wearing?

They will call her survivor,
but she is still bleeding in places
nobody can see.
and yet… she rises,
not because she’s healed,
but because she has no choice.

Poem By: Aisosa Joseph aka AJ Pearl

Instagram: sheisajpearl

The post The Morning After ~ By AJ Pearl appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

My name doesn’t matter. What matters is what happened, because it happens to many of us. I grew up in a small village, thinking I’d marry young, have kids, and farm the land like my mother and her mother before her. It was the only life I knew then.

Then came the drought. The crops withered. The animals died. My family struggled. My father, desperate, decided I should marry a man from the city. He was older, had a good job, and could provide. I didn’t want to, but I knew it was for the good of my family. It felt like a heavy stone in my stomach.

City life was overwhelming. So many people, so much noise, so much I didn’t understand. My husband was kind enough, but we just didn’t connect. He worked long hours, and I stayed home, cleaning and cooking. I felt lost and useless. I missed my family, the familiar smells of the farm, the comforting rhythm of village life.

One day, I stumbled upon a small tailoring shop near the market. The owner, a woman named Fatima, was teaching young girls how to sew. I watched them, fascinated. I remembered my grandmother teaching me to mend clothes back in the village. An idea sparked in my mind.

I asked Fatima if I could learn. She smiled and said, ‘Of course, my dear. There’s always room for one more.’ It wasn’t easy. My fingers were clumsy at first. I made mistakes. But Fatima was patient, and the girls were encouraging. Slowly, I started to learn. I learned to cut fabric, to sew straight lines, to create beautiful patterns.

Sewing gave me something to focus on, something to be proud of. I started making clothes for my neighbors, then for people in the market. My small earnings helped my family back in the village. I felt useful again, like I was contributing. It wasn’t the life I imagined, but it was my life, and I was building it with my own hands.

My husband saw how happy I was. He started bringing me fabric scraps from his work. He even helped me set up a small sewing corner in our house. We started talking more, sharing our days. He began to appreciate my effort and skill.

It wasn’t a fairy tale ending, but it was real. I wasn’t the farmer I thought I’d be, but I was a tailor, a provider, a woman who found her own path when life took an unexpected turn. And that, I realized, was enough. Sometimes, it’s about finding the strength to embrace the changes that  life throws at you and creating something new from the pieces.

Life rarely goes as planned. It’s okay to find your own way, even if it’s different from what you expected. Don’t be afraid to try new things and discover hidden talents. Support other women, we are stronger together. And never underestimate the power and authority that God instilled in you.

The post From the Village to the City – An Arranged Marriage. appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

It hurts to hear, it hurts to know
Women and children all over the world,
Having their lives cut short, don’t you know?
Murdered, abused, their voices silenced each day
A pain that echoes, in every way

Girls, each day, lost to violence and pain
Their futures stolen, their dreams in vain
It hurts, it aches, it cuts deep inside
To hear of sisters, lost, and futures denied

But still we rise, we stand, we speak
For justice, for rights, for a life to seek
So let’s stand together, united as one
On November 21st, let our voices be heard

Every girl, every woman,
every life matters, let’s make it clear
No more violence, no more fear, we stand for change, we stand for peace, we stand for justice,
and we stand for life, equality, and humanity.

Your voice matters, and together we can make a difference.

By: Grace Banda

The post Your Voice Matters~ Grace Banda appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

I’m not a joke, I’m human too,
With feelings that are real and true,
I care and love, I feel and see,
And my emotions are a part of me.

Don’t reduce me to a jest or play,
I’m a person with feelings every day,
I have a heart that beats and loves,
And words that hurt can leave their doves.

It’s okay if you think like that,
But know that my feelings are where I am at,
I’m still a person, with hopes and fears,
And kindness can calm my tears.

I breathe and live, I laugh and cry,
I have a soul that’s sensitive and high,
I feel the pain, I feel the joy,
And my emotions are a part of my employ.

Don’t dismiss me, don’t make me small,
I’m a human being, with feelings that enthrall,
I have a voice, I have a heart,
And words of kindness can make us never part.
So let’s be kind, let’s be real,

Let’s treat each other with love and feel,
For we’re all humans, with hearts that ache,
And words of kindness can make us awake.

Let’s walk this path, with empathy and care,
Let’s lift each other, with love and share,
For we’re all in this, together as one,
And kindness can make our journey just begun.

It’s okay if you think like that,
But know that my feelings are where I am at,
I’m still a person, with hopes and dreams,
And kindness can make my heart beam.

By: Grace Banda

The post I’m Human Too~ By Grace Banda appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

Emotional being,

We are with our emotions
Emotions pokes the tip of my nail
Searching for peace, to find nothing relatable,
living within me, and then to find nothing at all.
The sun pumps my smile – a new plum of smoke
straight into the my awareness,
A loud guilt that pierced through and out.

My face spoke volume, my heart dancing,
eyes sweating out the mental lies, all in the name of fear.
The hardcore realization.
This feeling is loud, lines cemented a hard pillar,
Upon this cliff, ill push on.

Love supersedes every emotion,
Peace contains every mess.
A  dream of hope to find check with my emotions,
In the altar of honesty,
A reality of freedom.

My Emotional being

By: Nonny

The post Emotional check~ By Nonny appeared first on Sheevolves.world.