Her Thought Piece

“I’m beautiful, I’m funny, I’m gentle, I’m kind,” I tell myself while standing by the mirror. It’s my daily routine, the kind of confidence I must don before I step out of the door. It’s the dose I need to have the strength on my feet to walk hand in hand with the man that I say I love. “You’re beautiful, you make me laugh, your soul is gentle, your heart is kind,” he told me, not once, not twice. That was when his world revolved around me, when he would pursue me relentlessly, when he had the conviction, he loved me and wanted me to be his. And I was, and I loved him back and I felt beautiful, funny and kind. Time passed on and I am still his but I am not sure anymore. “You’re beautiful, you’re gentle, you’re kind,” is what I tell the reflection I see when I look at me, because now I have to remind me that; he doesn’t say it anymore. I am his but the four adjectives are thrown to others but me, he doesn’t realize I need them as much now as he needed to say them w

I have a little girl in me that loves to play She likes to be tickled and laughs so hard She likes to yearn for sweet things a little ice cream here, a smokey there She likes to be surprised a midnight text, a takeout breakfast on a Tuesday She likes pretty dresses shoes and hippy music to dance to She likes to be waved in the air lifted high and tossed around She likes her hand held while crossing the road She likes to be tucked in bed and hugged until she falls asleep She likes to play hide and seek and giggle at a corner while you search for her She likes to be told shes beautiful and shes the only one She likes to be wiped off her tears and broad chest for solace She likes to whisper you her secrets and make saliva pacts and pinky promises and make you swear you'll never tell She likes to watch animation and sing out loud to her favourite tunes She likes a naughty note passed on in the middle of a boring lecture She likes to be wal

Someday you will arrive too late to say sorry  I will have made up my mind to go on with life like you never happened On that day you will not find me drowning in the pain that loving you has caused me,  at the corner of my bed You will not wake up to find my texts blowing up your phone, screaming i love you or where are you or anything Read full piece here (my new blog) >> One Day Too Late

Sitting at the verge of terror Kenya is here yet again. Same old pulpit Where we stand preaching peace We are scared of streets streaming blood We will be damned if lives are lost But what peace do we need? Staying in or out, leading normal lives? Peace of mind? What does the future hold For us Kenyans Will it be another struggle, For many years to come To make ends meet Will this peace Calm the bitterness between tribes Bring fairness and transparency in our system I pray this call for peace Is a call for justice A peace that should let us sit back Because we know our leaders will serve That they will crawl out of their greed and pride And put this nation in its place The Place of honor and dignity Not a realm of dynasties May peace be justice To all my fellow Kenyans.

She sat there At the Window pane Streaming into the galaxy Trynna put a finger Onto every glistening star It was hush Until when fireworks Blew up into delightful colors A Herald of a new year Oh she too was surprised But she knew it was coming Maybe it slipped her mind Or its not all that Anyway it made her anxious Everything There always resolutions Written , thought or not She didn't want a glimpse Of what it brought She only liked the idea Of walking blind folded While playing treasure hunt She felt grown Time was racing Faster than her steps She's already out on her own And worse people are watching It was time to draw From the plenty of dreaming And go back to sleeping She closed her eyes and it felt like it was then That she started living afresh.

shes doing it wrong loving , and being true to him shes asking for something in silent whispers in cryptic impulses she wants perfection in her fullest control she wants a touch of her fantasy she lives by the moment she hangs on to every passing thought shes on the look out for those pricking flings shes selfish hes selfish shes obssessed with her and so is he but she never forgets how many times does she stay sleepless tossing and whining in hurt or resentment she wants a reciprical she wont say it she will peek the next day through the corners of her eyes and afraid she will see she will boil in her anger she will walk away she will say the worst but never what she should she doesnt retrieve joy from hurting the one she loves but shes hiding from something from asking for too much shes failed miserably at closure maybe having secrets and a tinted face keeps her alive yes she can trust but the tension of her well of tears is holding her b