I have invented a new skin This one you can’t peel back This one you can’t take off /I birthed it from a infertile womb ;at the crime scene of my heartbreak Bloody emotions spilling everywhere Thick veins of madness exposed and seared A production of murdered love. I sewed this new skin With milesContinue reading “Remains”
My souls followed the moon To the dark place it goes at 5:07am/ The first soul: rusty and rickety From bending this way and that// for love And still being left out; alone; wasted Let’s call him Fragments. Migrant is walking close by A soul with with no soles She’s walked oceans and clouds SomewhereContinue reading “Almost Home”
I disappear. The first time was at Dansoman, when I was ten Awkward teeth and eerily quiet They had a small ceremony & they nicknamed my body, It is no longer mine. I disappear Second time I was fifteen with the boy behind the wall bold red fire running barefoot in my veins-from watching aContinue reading “Ruins.”
A pre-valentine special. People say love is a message and most of us are unfortunate to meet bad messengers who just do it wrong. Love is a risk people are all too willing to take. This is my first story with only two characters. Cheers to love, to lovers, to the heartbroken and the heartbreakers.
The mental health of young African boys is suppressed and slaved away. Parents, friends, society diminish the emotions and pain of our men.
Growing up an Africa can affect so much of our mental health but it has several benefits that might now seem clear in the beginning. African parents do not know how to communicate properly with their children.
The power of women is insanity