I know how daunted people can feel by the exchange rate.
It is up to us to do better so It finds us in check.
Some say budget, others emphasize the knowledge in financial point,
I say, know you and understand your means.
Understand, have a relationship, most importantly; communicate with your pockets.
We all…
A soul so bright,
Torn apart by darkness and endless fight.
Bipolar disorder’s waves crash on her shore,
As schizophrenia’s whispers echo evermore.
Her loved ones, they couldn’t understand,
The turmoil raged like a stormy land.
They rejected her with words that cut deep,
Leaving her to face the demons, asleep.
Her thoughts, a jumbled mess, like…
It’s past midnight.
I’m on the edge of my bed.
The only sounds…
my pounding heart
and my grandmother’s
ancient clock.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
It’s almost deafening.
Maybe I should sleep.
But what if I don’t wake up?
I can’t close my eyes.
My mind is just dancing to fear.
I’ve given myself a racing heart
just by thinking.
I wish I’d said nothing
when…
To smile when your bones hum with ache,
to laugh even as your hands tremble
not because the hurt is gone,
but because you’ve made a pact with the light
to outshine it.
To dance when the sky splits open,
not in spite of the storm,
but because of it
to let the rain baptize you
into something…
The Pain of Miscarrying the seed you looked forward to seeing
Miscarriage, you are a thief
Miscarriage, you are cruel
Miscarriage, you are a restless wanderer, searching for the warriors of this earth whom you can attack.
I am talking about our mothers, our women, our birthers
Miscarriage, you never consider, but do as…
I have fewer stories hanging on my gullet.
Untold stories of moments we shared,
and the laughter that quaked the room.
This is because I do not write in times of happiness.
I went through my pieces—
they carry grief like an infant,
cradled in my mind to this day.
Darkness overshadowed those moments,
or perhaps I…
But love, I am so tired.
The betrayal sits inside me
like an elephant on my chest.
Every fight drags it deeper
not just the infidelity, the lies,
But the why.
Why her? Why them?
Was it my body? My brokenness?
Was I not enough, or was she the dream
You couldn’t resist?
I see her face sometimes,
A ghost…
Weightless Gift nu Azwi-Hilton
Upon an ovoid hill, the still silence broke,
Where love once hung beneath the oak,
Not for applause, nor pride, nor fame,
But for the lost, He bore the flame.
No crown of gold, but spiky thorns instead.
No royal robe, but raw wounds that bled.
The hands that shaped the stars…