Love was…

When we were young…


Dear Lord

Dear Lord

Please, I beg you, let not my hustle be in vain

Let not my struggle be for nothing

Free me from this chains

So I may become the fruit that yields positive results

Let it be dear Lord

That many souls bear testament to these achievements

These successes

Let it be that they too shall gain

that they too shall plant

Dear Lord, please I beg you, don’t let all my suffering be in vain.




Originally posted on Glass Closet:

I think I’m lonely, long days, texting the one I’m convinced loves me but that’s not enough, I’m not fulfilled… Friends aren’t enough, I find myself drifting into an unknown space, dark and by myself, peaceful, but lonely… Uncertain about what I want… I’m not alone, not at all, but lonesome from within… Bad decisions, hollow and empty, fear the future I’m paving …

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I dreamt that I saw you

I had a dream

You were a mystery, a fallacy

You were neither real nor unreal

I dreamt you were robotic

Though I know you are not

In the dream you were square and had broad shoulders

I remember telling me or was it the other person

How real you are

You were a grey ghost in the dream

A mythical being sketched in grey and black lines

I tried to make you real

Something or someone said you were nothing but a figment of my imagination

I told them you were real

I was talking to me and yet I wasn’t

The sketch was smiling and not

I tried to make you seem real

Tried to take the image into reality

You were neither here nor there

Just in the dream

You were moving and not

Maybe I am crazy

I don’t know

All I know is I had a dream

And I think it had a tinge to do with our reality

I’m strong and sad

Happy and not



You are in my past

Not in my present

Neither in my future

Maybe you are

Maybe you’re not

I don’t know

All I know

I had a dream

And you were in it

Or maybe you were not

Memoir on Mother-Daughter Sexual Abuse Survivor


An interesting find.

Originally posted on eyes of reason...:

traces cover2

TRACES of BLACK & BLUE explores, in many ways, how women cover their grueling past with masks of bruises from unspoken secrets while decorating their present with colourful facades to hide the pain that devours their insides, that corrodes their family circles, that hinders their personal, social and professional growth. It challenges our Cultural belief and value system, that which coerces us to protect and conceal family covert abuse as a secret at all odds, even at the expense of life itself to the detriment of the victims of circumstances, perverting the course of justice. This challenge aims to evoke action for families to find a way to uproot, reconcile and heal past ills from deep within our roots. It also invites men who are fathers, partners, brothers, lovers or friends to get to understand the women in their lives a little deeper than their facades, to walk and work…

View original 117 more words


Been on my head…decided to share…much love.


Break it down…

I guess I’m missing him…I guess…what? :) … I’m still guessing…


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