It wasn’t like sugar,
more like the sting of
hot, rancid onion-pepper.
My lips cracked
against your own,
and I felt you drain the life
from my very own mouth.
Painful passion pranced
across our joined lips,
and my soul hemorrhaged
the love we once shared,
forcing it to spew out
in the saliva that crowds my mouth
and in the pain that fills my insides
as you hastily bid me adieu…
I decided to forget you,
take our short-lived time
and our out-of-balance
memories
and shove them out
out of my mind,
out of my life.
I decided to forget you,
and how you made me feel.
Your yo-yo of great proportions
and your decidedly unsure stance
provided a stone path for me,
and this decision.
Forgetting you
will be easy.
You made it so.
I danced last night like I was back in the 90’s. I ignored my aching joints and the strain within my muscles as I shimmied to reggae beats and hiphop knocks from a time when my life was less complicated and I was all teen spirit. It felt glorious. This morning, I am paying for it. My best friends this morning are an icepack and a pillow for elevating my leg. Continue reading
It’s strange, this feeling…
these feelings that are burning
within, from an unknown point,
a genesis unfamiliar.
You aren’t supposed to paint
my insides like this,
like you can see clear right
through to my depths,
my unknowns that I have sought to hide
for eons and ages.
I thought you were half-knocking,
and I thought I could handle letting
you in for a short, unaffected time.
I was wrong.
It’s strange, this feeling…
you make me feel for you
what I know I shouldn’t
because all you shall do is
paint my insides with
heartbreak and pain and
the bitter taste of
your soon-to-come goodbye.
Music plays a big role in everyday life. Before my 12 hour night shifts at the ER, I would get ready to some thumping reggae, afrobeat, pop or reggaeton music. I have reminisced about my youth to the tune of those golden oldies. Some songs remind me of my Papa when they play, and others remind me of sweet times growing up abroad, others remind me of sad moments but, all in all, music has been a central character in this play that is my life, a welcome veritable soundtrack that, with each song genre, some particular song, paints a vivid memory for me of my life at particular times.
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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