Author: OSIRO NYAR KEPHA

 

She sighed and stared at her rough gnarled hands.

Her lips twitched as her nervous tongue tried to moisten their cracked surface.

Her empty, pain-glazed eyes darted around, not focusing on anything in particular.

She rubbed the back of her neck as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

Her soul bunched itself into a fetal position in a bid to ward off the sulphurous words that lacerated it.

Her mind still reeled from the heavy demands and accusations that rained upon her.

They were like blocks of lead breaking her already bent back and shoving her to the ground.

She tried with all her willpower to get back on her feet again.

Sweat ran down her furrowed brow.

Her breath became choppy as it tried to climb out of her constricted chest.

She frantically grabbed her chest.

She had to reign in her emotions.

She inhaled laboriously. 

A hissing sound emanated from her clenched jaws as she exhaled.

After a couple of excruciating minutes, her heartbeat became regular. 

She breathed steadily.

The fog of anguish that filled her mind started dissipating.

“I will be fine, and I will overcome this,” she vowed to herself.

A steely determination lighted up her eyes.

 

 

Why did I let my mouth run off with its crazy ideas?

The meeting was going well.

I slightly lowered my guard thinking that I was entirely in control.

That was my greatest folly.

For my nemesis, this tiny member called my tongue took over the helm of my ship.

My foe steered the conversation towards dangerous troubled waters.

Being nosy, judgemental, and an opinionated know-it-all ignited the fire of distrust.

I frantically tried to take back my words to no avail.

 

 

She laughed to herself. 

It was a dry, barren sound.

It echoed and thrust itself from the dark recess of her troubled soul.

Her life was a mess.

She frantically searched for a scapegoat, to no avail.   

Her eyes were open.

She had secretly nurtured a beast in her bosom.

The veil that blinded her lay at her feet, torn to pieces.

The dazzling light of truth unearthed the hideous monster of deceit.

 

 

Enjoy the moment.

Relish the journey.

Inhabit the process.

It takes time to smell the roses.

Be gentle with yourself.

Be kind to yourself.

 

I have heard the above words over and over again.

Yet, they always seem to miss the mark.

 

The restlessness.

The anxiety.

The “what do they think about me”?

The self-bashing.

The self-loathing.

The self-sabotaging.

 

These dark thoughts and forebodings have wrung me dry.

Oh! Please simplify it for me.

Do tell me how to get out of this oppressive, suffocating labyrinth.

I am exhausted from fighting with myself.

Help!

I so want to change.

 

I close my eyes.

I take a deep breath.

I slowly exhale.

I let my body unwind.

I look outside at the winter morning that is awakening.

Fragile tender shoots stand despite their frailty, defying the cold.

 

I finally understand.

Moment by moment, minute by minute, second by second.

Every single breath I take is a victory.

I will stand where I am, with the little strength I have.

I will acknowledge and celebrate every tiny victory.

I will keep on crawling, staggering, and inching forward.

 

I am still here despite the winter blizzards that almost froze me to death.

My soul stands worn out and cold but holding on.

It is a precious victory for me.

I am here in this moment.

I am alive.

I will thrive!

 

 

I shed off the artificial feathers of my Carnival costume.

The mask drops as the curtain falls.

The crowd withers away.

I drown in the loud silence of solitude.

Loneliness threatens to smother my soul with its lead mantle.

I take a deep breath.

Rays of hope shine forth, dispelling the darkness in my soul.

I look up, spread my frail wings, and jump.

I fly vulnerable and afraid.

It finally dawns on me as I let myself go.

I am a migratory bird.

I am flying back to myself.

I soar to the secret place, where my heart is finally at rest.

My soul drinks deep from the brook of peace and self-acceptance.

I am finally home.

I am face to face with the true essence of who I am.

 

 

Rest, you say!

I hear you, but I refuse to comply.

I am working on significant projects.

I keep pushing against this wall of exertion.

This invisible iceberg called fatigue is sinking my ship.

I am out of balance and loath to admit it.

I am falling apart.

The wrecking ball of exhaustion has brought my house of cards crumbling down.

 

 

I am trembling, seething, and tearing up.

I am tearing cherished memories apart.

Was it all but a sham?

Was it just a mirage?

Was it all but mist evaporating in the harsh noonday heat of life’s hardships?

Was I always in the back of your mind a potential Judas?

It is a pity.

For, in my heart, I welcomed you.

I was real and bared my soul to you.

Yet, you have discarded me without a backward glance.

 

 

I am scared.

I have been here before.

I should be confident that I can go through it.

Yet, my heart falters.

I am exhausted and distraught.

I feel like I am caving in.

Oh my dear heart, hold on, hang on!

Don’t give up.

For, this too shall pass!

 

 

It’s daybreak.

As the sun rays coyly caress the sky, I arise from my restless slumber. 

I rummage through the jumble of thoughts in my foggy mind.

 

I don’t know how to feel about this new dawn.

My heart is bubbly, optimistic, hopeful, anxious, wary, and fearful.

The dark cloud of foreboding about the future is trying to stifle my soul.

 

A warm beam of sunlight permeates my mind dissipating the fog.

My mind negotiates with my soul, reminding her that I can still enjoy my today.

I cautiously peer outside at the golden rays of sunshine.

 

“You are alive,” whispers the sun as it kisses my upturned face.

 

My countenance lights up, hopeful.

Maybe this is reason enough to be optimistic.

The mellow sunlight is a foretaste of a better day.

 

 

Be strong, my dear heart.

Don’t lose hope.

I know it hasn’t been easy for you.

You’ve lost more than you anticipated.

You’ve hurt more profoundly than you dared imagine.

The things you strove for took longer than you expected.

Despite all these, keep the light burning.

Don’t snuff out the candle of hope, though the flame is frail, for it is the essence and bloodline of life.

Keep hold of your confidence. 

You have come this far. 

You are a winner because you have braved the storm.

Though battered, broken, and wounded, you are here, and that in itself is a song of victory.

 

 

Christmas tree, jingles, and tinsel merrily humming.

Welcoming fireside generously beckoning. 

Bright blinding flashing lights dancing in the chilly night. 

The tantalizing aroma of hot chocolate and roasting chestnuts gently hugging.

Christmas decorations smile brightly, announcing holiday cheer.

 

It seems so warm and cosy.

It’s such a lovely invitation to cuddle around an inviting fireplace.

Yet, it all feels like make-believe now, for nothing is as it seems.

Some people are shipwrecked, and the light of hope is almost non-existent.

The virus has ravaged the body, soul, and the life essence of many.

 

So how do we celebrate this festive season?

Is there anything to commemorate?

Is there any good cheer left in the wake of this desolate year?

Oh! I dare believe that there is reason to make merry and spread around good cheer.

For you see, we are still here.

 

Therefore I propose a toast to you and me.

May the light of hope keep shinning in our lives.

Though broken, diminished, hurt, and grieving, we are still here.

Let us share good cheer, however small it is.

May we rise above the pain and despair of this year.

 

 

She braced herself for what was coming.

Her heart hunched over and locked itself into a fetal position.

She held her breath and tried to shrink into the doll-house.

If only she could hide, escape, disappear into another dimension.

Her fear glazed eyes darted to and fro, seeking a way out. 

She trembled in terror, for there was no hospitable place to conceal her petrified frame.

 

 

She didn’t even try to disguise her disinterest any more.

Her face was a closed sepulture.

The tombstone was heavy and ominous.

An eerie grey mist rose from it.

Few dared come close.

She spat toxic vapours of resentment and unforgiveness on those who ventured.

Many unsuspecting souls stand petrified in her abandoned garden of relationship.

 

 

“It shall be well,” she said.

Her words echoed around her mockingly.

Her doubting soul eyed her petulantly.

She had to hold herself together.

She needed to be steadfast and full of hope for her mother’s sake. 

Yet, she knew that once she hung up the phone, she would breakdown.

Her nemesis fear was hovering over her waiting for an opportune moment to ambush her.

 

 

She closed her eyes, her face softened, and her shoulders loosened up. She allowed the healing dew of encouraging words to wash over her.

Each wave of empathy and care crushed upon her parched heart.

Her soul softened like butter on a hot skillet.

She languidly opened her eyes.

She gazed intently at him, an endearing smile coyly lifted the corners of her mouth. 

A glimmer of affection lit his troubled countenance.

He keenly watched her.

A profound sight sneaked from his anxious soul.

He allowed himself to relax.

The veil had finally lifted from her mind.

Her gaze was steady and confident.

He leaned back, content.

She was going to be okay.

She had weathered the storm that raged in her soul.  

 

 

My heart is cautious.

My soul is wary.

My mind is sceptical.

I see your efforts.

I accept your apologies.

I know you mean well.

Yet, I cannot let you walk back in nonchalantly.

You see, you ravaged my heart.

I need time to heal.

The tower of trust needs to be nourished, rebuilt, and consolidated by you.

 

I allowed you into my abode.

I trusted you.

You sat down comfortably and enjoyed the finest delicacies that I had laid before you.

My soul sang for joy in your presence.

I was finally at home with my kindred spirit, so I thought.

I closed my eyes in bliss and lay my head on your shoulder in sweet and trusting abandon.

You pounced on me and laid my land desolate.

I am now rebuilding the ruins of my fortified city.

When I finish restoring my soul, I will hunt you down.

I will recover and bring back all my treasures that you took as spoil.

 

 

She smiled.

An empty, defeated, sad smirk took over her countenance.

She hung up the phone.

Her renegade mind wandered in the somber forest of tormenting thoughts.

She crumpled into a weary, defeated mess.

The weight of her responsibilities smothered her.

 

 

I have found my way, finally!

I have found me, honestly?

I am in my lane, my own; it’s dreamy.

I am speaking my heart, my passion.

I have finally given voice and life to my purpose.

It’s thrilling, exhilarating, daunting, and frightening.

Yet, how I feel so alive! 

 

 

It felt strange.

She peered keenly at the sign on the entrance wall of the general practician’s office.

Her familiar family doctor had retired.

She gazed pensively at the notice that announced it.

He had told her that he was going to retire at the end of the year.

But, for some strange reason, she felt bereft.

A chapter of her life had come to a close. 

He had tended to her and her family for many years.

She hadn’t even thanked him, she mused wistfully.