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

https://www.facebook.com/share/16MCSLsBnm/?mibextid=wwXIfr

(20+) https //www facebook com/share/16mcslsbnm/ mibextid wwxifr – Search Results | Facebook

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.

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.

This burden feels so heavy.

My tears have become
my only comfort.
Life carries me around
like a dried leaf
blown by the wind.

Oh, Life, give me peace.
I am so tired.
I cannot bear this anymore.
All I can do now is cry.

Life, look what you made me do.
Here I am, alone with
my thoughts once more.
Life, give me time to think,
time to truly know myself.
Give me peace.
All I long for now is love.

Poem by: Senselina Guriras

Instagram

The post The Heavy Burden by Senselina Guriras appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

In a world where we don’t know what’s true and what’s not, how do you expect my heart to trust what my eyes see or read? How do you even trust that I, alone, wrote this piece on my own? If artificial intelligence can do it, why should we bother to do it? What’s the worth in that? Since I was a kid, I knew I wanted to be a writer in addition to healthcare. But now, that skill/talent is no longer recognized – it has lost its value and we have lost the essence of authenticity.

If you can look into a screen and not recognize the difference between artificial and real. What is even the definition of real nowadays? Or do we only know the meaning of reel now? We are living in the beginning of the end times. The chaos and confusion are not by chance or are we even aware of the real world anymore?

We wake up with our smartphones glued on our faces and before we sleep, if at all, they are the last thing we see. What do we call that Hypnosis or addiction? We live in a world governed by confusion and I am fearful of what we will all become. I never thought I would be so grateful that we are mortal beings because the future is doomed, if it will even exist at all. Tell me…
What’s next?

By: Mutshidzi

The post The Beginning of the End~ By Mutshidzi appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

My Dearest Scars

You were an uninvited guest,
but you made a home in my skin.
A silent story of a battle that found me.

First, you were nothing but pain:
the surgeon’s cut, the chemo’s fever,
a landscape of loss drawn on my body.

But now?
You’re the measure of
How I refused to disappear.

Every mark is a line in my history…
I bled, but I didn’t end.
I ached, but I outlasted the pain.

People say wounds fade.
But you are not a wound anymore.
You are the receipt for my survival,
proof that when my body was under siege,
I never surrendered.

So I trace your lines now
with something like pride,
knowing that…
If this was the price of my life,
Then you are the gold
That was left in my hands.

By: Mutshidzi

The post My Dearest Scars~ By Mutshidzi appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

From the moment I could speak, my mother, a Sunday school teacher with a heart full of faith, taught me and all my siblings how to pray. It began with simple words of gratitude before meals. Then came morning prayers for guidance, which we prayed as sunlight crept through the curtains. At night, just before sleep takes over my body, I would press my hands together and tell God about my day.

As I grew a bit older, so did my prayers. Sunday school lessons turned the Lord’s Prayer into second nature, recited as easily as my ABCs. Prayer became routine, steady, like breathing.

But now?
Now, my prayers don’t come in neat, memorized lines. Some days, they’re raw.Unfiltered. A choked-out “Why me?” when the pain digs its claws in deep. Other days, when laughter comes easy and the weight lifts, my prayers spill over: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Lord.

Living with chronic pain is like living with a thief, one that steals moments without warning. One second, I’m fine… the next, pain shoots through my body like lightning, and the world shrinks to just me and the ache. But this journey has taught me something… Life is fragile. Borrowed time. And in that truth, I’ve learned to cherish the small things, the warmth of a cup of tea, a friend’s voice on the phone, a quiet morning when my body lets me breathe.

Prayer isn’t what it used to be. It’s no longer just reciting words I learned as a child. It’s alive. Messy. Real.

Sometimes, it’s a yell into the dark. Other times, it’s a heart-to-heart with God, tears rolling down my cheeks, some from joy, some from the kind of pain that makes you whisper, “How much longer… for how long do I have to suffer?” Some nights, when words fail, I sing through the hurt because worship doesn’t need perfect words.

In the quiet, I remember my mother’s voice guiding those first prayers. I wonder if she knew she was planting seeds of hope that would hold me up on days when standing felt impossible. Her faith still lights my path, even when I can’t see the way forward.

These days, my prayer is simple… God, May Your Will Be Done – not mine. Whether that means a moment’s relief or strength to endure, I’m learning to trust Him with it. To center myself in Him, even when the storm rages.

Because prayer isn’t about having the right words. It’s showing up with your broken pieces and saying, “Here I am. Again.” It’s knowing you’re heard, even when the only thing you can offer is silence.

And that? That’s enough. A promise that keeps me going, a light that never goes out.

By: Mutshidzi

The post The Prayers That Held Me~ By Mutshidzi appeared first on Sheevolves.world.

In our fast-paced, digital-driven world, the line between what’s real and artificial grows thinner by the day. We’re bombarded with all the  information, yet the truth is elusive. How do we trust our senses when our eyes and minds compete with the persuasive power of technology? It’s a question that haunts us, as we go through a reality increasingly governed by screens and algorithms.

We wake up with our smartphones in our hands, their screens the first light of day. They are the last thing we see at night before we fall asleep, a glowing lifeline in a sea of digital noise. But what does this constant connection mean for our understanding of reality? Are we hypnotized, or simply addicted to the endless scroll? The distinction is blurred, much like the line between artificial and real.

In this tech-dominated age, it’s challenging to discern our own thoughts from those generated by machines. AI can mimic human creativity, leaving us questioning our worth and originality. If a machine can pen a poem or write an article, what does that say about our place in this new world? It’s a sad realization, one that demands introspection and a reevaluation of our values.

We find ourselves in a time where chaos and confusion are not mere accidents but symptoms of a deeper crisis. Our reliance on technology has distanced us from the tangible world, leading to a societal disconnection that’s as profound as it is unsettling. Have we lost sight of what makes us human, of our ability to discern, to feel, to connect?

But here’s the truth we keep missing… life isn’t infinite. That’s the thing that could save us, the reminder to put the phone down, to look up, to hold on to what’s real. Tech isn’t the enemy, but we can’t let it steal our humanity. So what’s next? Maybe it starts with a
single breath. A choice. A step back into our own lives.

From: Mutshidzi

The post Midnight Thoughts~ Mutshidzi appeared first on Sheevolves.world.