It’s the last day of this challenge. I was tempted to post a piece that simply said: The end.
I can’t believe I managed to write something every day for the last 30 days!
It really did kick me into high gear and I am excited to keep this up, to be more intentional! So here is to another 30 (plus) days of writing and creating!
The end.
She lost her father recently. And I do not know how to comfort her.
Cliché after cliché bubbles up as I contemplate how to be there for her,
To tell her what she wants to hear and not what I think the world wants me to say.
Words fail me. Emotions overcome me.
I am so sorry.
Whispers of silence float up and clog your ears,
tapping on your eardrum loudly,
asking the question that is stuck in your throat
and burns the back of your mouth.
Bundles of nothing fry between your ears,
wisping into smoky tendrils of uncertainty,
begging you to structure the base of your dream
that now has no shape or form.
Mountains of doubt erect themselves in your heart,
lava fire churning within and burning vividly,
fanned enthusiastically by that imagination and vibe
that causes an overflow of what-if’s?
Dreams that once lined your very soul,
lie discarded in the empty corridors of your vessel,
stomped to near death by self-imposed pressures
that are supported by those mountains above.
You have to move these mountains, somehow.
You have to drench that fiery lava, some way.
You have to turn nothing into something, somewhere.
You have to squash those whispers or, some day,
ask that question.
You have to live.
The polarity of life showed itself today. I celebrated the news of a new life, shared by a friend, and then an hour later, my heart was breaking in disappointment for the dissolution of a marital union.
On one hand, my heart was overflowing with joy for this new life that will grace us in 2019 (I am excited to be a Tia!) and, on the other hand, my heart cracked open when a different friend shared that she would be flying solo soon.
I firmly believe that one’s story is theirs to tell, so I never share with any third party, mutually known or not, any news shared with me by someone else. So I hold onto this dichotomous situation, balancing between the two and offering my support to each in the way I feel they need.
Today was the icing on the cake. Jack McCoy died. Jack McCoy has been in my possession since last year in October/November when Austin and I were in South Carolina. He moved us from SC to Los Angeles to come help out a pal and we ended up staying. He had been faithful, only hiccuping once when the battery acted up when Talu took Austin for a date on the beach.
But today, September 19th 2018, he decided he wouldn’t turn over and start, and he puttered into silence as Austin, strapped into his car seat, gave the voiceover soundbite of the day: “Mama, the car is not working?”
After the last 10 days or so of things going to hell in a hand basket for me, I was about to just beat my head against the steering wheel but this morning, for some reason, I woke up feeling so positive. I was almost humming to myself. I didn’t. Because I am tone-deaf. I once was kicked out of Ms Okhoya’s choir at Lavington Primary because I couldn’t do-re-mi like the rest of them. Anyway, back to Jack McCoy. Continue reading
Love feels like a warm breeze against bare skin,
caressing you gently and cupping you within an
embrace that whispers promises of never letting you go,
and never dropping your porcelain heart onto the cold cement floor.
Word-Experimentalist
Love, Loss, and Life's Adventures
The heart harries the mind to tarry; only dead fish go with the flow
The dream is free; the hustle is sold separately
Tales of humour, whimsy and courgettes
Make yourself a drink.
mkhana in transit 
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