And so we ran away,
We ran away from the sight, thought, and idea of ‘us’.
You hid in your ambition
You proved this with your silence, a trail that grew cold.
I accepted your silence and cherished in my freedom, I never relinquished control,
I did what I wanted to, when I wanted to.
And so we ran away,
Miles from each other, but somehow, the universe was not done with us.
She asked for a rerun,
We almost gave in,
But nothing beats the thrill of running and now, I’m miles away not be swayed.
I thought I knew enough,
Not enough to lead a whole life, but enough, enough not to sink, or fall prey
It’s like a suspicion
A critter that crawls up your earlobe and whispers “It’s a lie” every time
“Don’t fall for that doll, issa scam, doll I’m telling you, issalie.”
I thought I knew enough to sail through this,
To sit back, sip my tea as everything unravels.
See, the truth you’ve been ignoring will smack you in the face.
I told you so, never caresses, it smacks you right in the face.
So, my intuition was right but my questions were unfounded.
Unfounded
Un…where is a bit of self pity when truth takes a seat, when dawn reigns, when words unravel mysteries?
See, I thought I knew enough, turns out I knew nothing because I ignored the little that I had to sustain me.
I heard them say,
“You’ll get over this, come this way,”
I let my mind sway.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday,
What day you say?
I heard them say,
“You’ll come out of this stronger.”
I wanted to be bolder,
Happier.
Lovelier.
I wanted it all, but I received none of it.
I knew I’d been swayed,
But I didn’t know how much until she said,
“Show me your scars and I’ll write your story.”
I told her and she looked into my eyes.
Dried up, she said “Come back and tell me tomorrow.”
I swayed. She stayed.
Dried up, hollow and sore, she said “you heard them say, and you swayed.
Why choose to sway when you can it have your way? Listen to yourself…love,
listen to yourself because when you sway, then it’ll be like a flower in bloom,
like you were born to dance.”
Send me a filter,
One that hides a fighter.
I’m thinking Gingham, or Reyes, but not Sierra,
No, definitely not Sierra.
I’m thinking Hefe, or Nashville, but not X-Pro II,
No, too much color that one.
I’m thinking Clarendon, or Lark, but not Juno,
No, Juno reminds me of a pregnant teen.
I’m thinking Slumber, or Crema, or Ludwig,
Listen, how about Amaro, or Perpetua what of Aden?
No, Aden is not as bold as Ludwig neither is it as fancy as Sierra or Reyes.
I’m thinking Hudson, or Mayfair, but not Rise,
No, I’ve used Rise in most of my pictures.
I could use it to get a rise out of my followers,
I bet they’d never notice…1,000 is something right?
The more they are the fewer the likes, the more the stream of photos…I could use Rise.
Wait, you can’t settle for Rise?
Why not? It’s my photo and my Gram.
Yeah,but there’s Moon, Lark, Willow and Inkwell,
Why not give them a try, see how your photo gains a different perspective.
Is it about perspective?
Yes, why do you use filters?
…
Hello, are you there? Why do you use filters? I asked a question…
Hello?
Send me a filter; one that hides a fighter.
Okay…
Send me a filter, a good filter, one that hides a fighter, a fighter who’s forgotten what she’s fighting for.
Send me a filter, not because I asked for it,but because you feel every ounce of your soul slowly slipping through your version of events.
Send me a filter,
Send me.
Send
End.
It came as a thought, a flicker,
It gave me quite a kicker, these words, these colors in my head that swirl every time I close my eyes. Blue, red, yellow and brown, brown always comes last. Brown settles the score, reminding me who’s boss.
Would you…
I wonder, would you spare a moment, during halftime, to look my way?
Would you spend a moment, a fleeting second to push back your stool, tell your boys, “I’m done,” and never drown your joys in a brown bottle? Whisky, Scotch, Red Label…
To see the King I see, would you let go of the slave you embrace, in the name of status?
To see the Eagle I see, would you push aside the thorns, you call friends and embrace the path without light?
My guy, you guy…
Would you…
I wonder, sugar, as sweet and soluble as you are, you bruise and move on, “mwanaume ni kujichocha,” you laugh, but your smile does not light up in your eyes.
Go and get that car, like the one Jaymo has,
Go and get that 40 inch Samsung TV, like the one, Chris has,
While you’re at it, go and get more stuff, to drown who you are, “babe, kwani why are you talking like that?”
I wonder, sugar, you dissolve in stuff, sweetening tastes for others, losing yourself with every stir.
I got my sugar, but it’s not my taste.
nilichoandika 