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A heap.

A mound.

A hill.

A mountain.

 

Where do I begin?

Where do I commence?

This task of decluttering.

How do I sort out this Everest that submerges me?

 

I fancy I can begin, little by little.

I can work it out from any angle.

I inch forward, a step at a time.

If I don’t give up along the way, I will reach the summit.

 

 

 

I tried to hide from your sharp, merciless flaming darts, dear sunshine, to no avail.

I longed to hug you, dear shade, I thought you were my haven; it was all wishful thinking.

I needed a hiding place where I would cool my wounded body.

You shunned and turned your back on me, dear shadow.

I cried out to you, dear refreshing breeze.

I yearned for your compassionate embrace.

You hid your face from me, lovely breeze.

I couldn’t find you, no matter how frantically I searched for you.

Oh dear me, I am melting and chocking from breathing this hot summer heat.

 

 

I gave it without a thought.

I gave it liberally.

I gave it willingly.

I gave it stupidly.

 

I didn’t take time to count the cost.

I didn’t weight the load.

I didn’t measure the depth of it.

I didn’t think much of it.

 

How I regret the words, I uttered.

But take it back, I cannot.

I am ashamed, but erase it all I can’t.

I must now eat my words.

 

Oh dear words, you gush forth easily, readily.

You plant yourself firmly and permanently.

You take a life of your own.

You take over my will.

 

Do you have total control over me?

Or am I using you as a scapegoat?

Have I refused to take responsibility for my acts?

I am the master of this craft I call my tongue.

 

Am I in control, or is that all hearsay?

 

 

You are fleeting.

You are fleeing.

You are floating away.

 

You are a precious commodity.

Dear money!

It’s a love-hate relationship between us.

 

When you are not around, I miss you.

I long for you.

I covet you.

I lust for you.

 

When you are in my embrace, I lose my cool.

Hoarding my dear money is my delight.

Yes, you are mine; I do not share you.

I never have enough of you.

 

I hold others at bay with precaution.

I am your sole owner.

Stashing my money is my most profound pleasure.

I cannot share you, my dear coin.

 

Oh no! what to do! My possession has possessed me.

 

 

 

I tried to pull away to no avail.

She had me in a corner.

I knew it, and so did she.

 

She saw me hesitate.

She saw me try desperately to pull away.

I looked for an escape route; I found none.

 

Her friendliness was my undoing.

With each smile, she drew me in.

Her understanding anecdotes snared me.

 

I hoped she wasn’t the one at the cashier’s desk.

I wanted to sneak out of the shop without buying anything.

I was out of luck for she was the one at the checkout counter.

 

She zeroed in on each hesitation I had.

She pulled them out by the roots.

She had me fair and square.

 

Oh! Silly me.

Why did I buy what I didn’t need?

Next time I will be less gullible.

 

I will eat before going window shopping!

 

 

 

She listened.

Her heart sank.

Her heart bled. 

Her heart wept.

 

She listened.

Their brokenness shook her.

Their despair wrenched her soul.

Their hopelessness punched her in the gut.

 

She listened.

Her eyes flew open.

Her ears unclogged.

Her eyes swung open its gates.

 

She listened.

She realized that she only saw the tip of the iceberg.

The most significant part of the iceberg of each life lay beneath the surface.

The back stories of each person were intricate and elaborate.

 

She finally saw them for who they were.

They were wounded, young women and men.

They had broken hearts and dreams.

They were but dried out husks, emptied of their true essence.

 

Hungry souls cast adrift in the sea of indifference, longing for a haven.

 

 

“Call me back.” You asked me.

I never did.

I wasn’t busy.

I didn’t forget.

I didn’t have the mental strength to return your call.

 

You see, I am down today.

I am emotionally fatigued.

I am mentally drained.

I am exhausted psychologically.

I am physically worn out.

 

I knew you were down today. 

I deduced it from the sound of your voice.

You needed me.

You required my help.

You longed for me to lift your spirits.

 

I am sorry.

I cannot help you today.

You see, I have nothing to give.

My cup is empty today.

Life drunk the last flimsy drops of strength I had.

 

I am a spent force!

 

 

 

“I am terrified,” She mumbled.

She looked around, her face haggard.

She was assailed and knocked down by worries.

The slave master fear tormented her mercilessly.

 

“I am scared,” She whispered.

She tightly clenched her chattering teeth.

She firmly clasped her trembling hands.

She persistently tried to quiet her anguished heart.

 

“Will I be OK?”She asked.

She was wounded.

She was worn out.

She was sad and depressed.

 

“I will, and I need to, I have to make it.” She said.

She looked around with dead, lifeless eyes.

She took tentative steps towards the exit.

She pushed the door open and entered into her battlefield.

 

“It shall be well!” She shouted

Her eyes lit up.

Her eyes were ablaze.

They lit up with the intense rage that erupted from her soul.

 

Her resolve, ruthless determination, and drive rose up from the embers of her failures.

She had finally come alive to herself.

Nothing was going to stop her.

She had finally locked onto her purpose.

 

 

Her heart swelled with happiness.

Her heart sighed and smiled.

Her heart leaped and swirled.

Her heart fluttered and flew.

 

She lifted her countenance.

She breathed the musical sound.

She melted with each stroke of the black and ivory keys.

She drowned in the enchanting sound that swirled around her.

 

Her soul relaxed.

Her soul laughed.

Her soul stretched.

Her soul unwound, joyful.

 

That was the power of music from the piano in the railway station.

 

 

I hurt.

Munch crunch.

I am scared.

Munch slurp.

 

I am worried.

Munch crunch.

I am angry.

Chomp slurp.

 

I am disappointed.

Gobble crunch.

I am terrified.

Gulp burp.

 

I am broken-hearted.

Munch, crunch, slurp.

I hurt.

Chomp Chomp.

 

I eat away my pain.

Am I lighter?

I gobble down these suffocating emotions.

Am I better?

 

I am heavier.

I am bloated and bitter.

Can I eat my pain away?

Or is my pain slowly eating me away?

 

 

Warm arms drew me close.

Warm arms held me near.

Warm hands cuddled me tenderly.

Warm hands comforted me.

Warm hands embraced me dearly.

I melted like butter in the oven.

I am refreshed, rejuvenated by these here warm hands.

 

 

It is boiling.

It is simmering.

It is whistling.

It is under pressure.

 

Keep off!

 

This pressure cooker is overheating.

It has reached the breaking point.

It is on the verge of blowing up.

So don’t push me over the edge.

 

You will regret it!

 

 

Farewell and Godspeed.

Goodbye.

Your voyage is over.

You have finished your race.

 

Oh! It hurts profoundly to acknowledge your sudden departure.

 

It tears our heart out.

It makes us tear up.

It is heart-wrenching.

It is heart-rending.

 

Letting go of a loved one is painful.

Bidding farewell to the cherished one is heartbreaking.

We are grief-stricken.

We are heavy-hearted.

 

Fare thee well.

Thank you for sharing your life with us.

Thank you for touching our hearts.

Thank you for painting our lives with your lovely personality.

 

We will miss you, dearly.

 

 

It feels good.

It is rejuvenating.

It is awesome.

It is lovely.

 

I am in the spotlight.

I am appreciated.

I am a celebrity.

I am an object of admiration.

 

I smile.

I laugh.

I soar.

I strut.

 

Now stop!

 

I have smelled the roses.

I have enjoyed the recognition.

I have the trophy, it is lovely. I appreciate it.

I have your attention, and I don’t take it for granted.

 

Now stop!

 

I sell my trophy.

I get off the stage.

I withdraw from the public eye.

I put on anonymity.

 

Why do I efface my achievements?

 

I set aside my accomplishments, for my life is in the grind.

I grow in the repetitive drudgery of sharpening my skill.

Notoriety, glory, and fame are but for a moment.

My real life is out of the spotlight, that is where I blossom.

 

I work; I push myself daily. 

My glory is in the grind.

I am not mighty in the ring.

I am a fierce warrior in the grind.

 

I toil.

I sweat.

I labour.

I stretch.

 

I push myself.

I strive to improve my skills.

I work my guts out daily.

It is my life, and I have come to love it.

 

Step by step, I become a better version of myself than I was yesterday.

So, I grind and grow!

 

 

Go down the rabbit hole, but be careful.

Beware!

Watch your back.

Be on your toes.

For you never know what might jump on you.

 

Whatever glitters is a mirage.

Beware!

Tread carefully, for it is hypnotic.

It is a deadly trap.

Keep a firm hold on yourself.

Don’t accept anything tantalizing.

 

Resist the seductive things, that drop before you.

Keep your mind sharp and aware.

Think about what you are thinking.

Hunt down and destroy every deceptive thought.

Think twice when the deal is too good.

 

Let this be your mantra.

Hold it tight, for it is your lifeline.

It will save you from the treacherous snares that lie in wait.

Never forget that a rabbit hole is a dangerous place. 

Things are not what they appear to be.

 

Weigh each information carefully, calmly, and deliberately.

You will thus unravel each lie.

Exposing it and neutralizing it.

You will thus be able to navigate with ease, the rabbit hole of the human mind.

 

 

Oh!

It is enthralling.

It is heady.

It is intoxicating.

 

I am melting.

I am lost.

I am slipping.

I have drowned in this vast ocean of affection.

 

Move closer, dearest object of my desire.

Let me hold you.

Let me embosom you.

Let me drink you.

 

Wow!

I melt in your embrace.

I fly in your presence.

I want you near.

 

I cuddle you close, my dear vanilla hot chocolate.

You do have a way of satisfying my sweet tooth!

 

 

 

I woke up for me today.

I stretched and stood tall for me.

I looked at me, myself, and I straight in the face.

I decided that I like myself today.

Yes, I like myself.

I am kind to me.

I love myself.

Oh yes! Today I am glad to be alive.

 

 

Is it worth it, all this toil?

That burdens me so.

This labour that takes its toll, making me recoil.

I can stand tall no more.

 

Is it worth it, all these things?

They fight for my attention.

They tear apart my spleen.

Each one dons a costume, to rival the others’ sheen.

 

They all cry out, “it is an emergency!”

Is it all that serious, all these things?

That make me cringe and desperately cling.

I hold on tight, with the strength I bring forth.

 

I delve within my heart to release this strength.

I keep digging deeper for treasure.

Yes, these precious golden nuggets of peace of mind, a rested soul and tranquil joy.

The mine of my life and mind are here by almost barren.

 

Constant emergencies and extremely urgent matters have overexploited my mine.

 

 

Flickering lights.

Calling, beckoning.

Flickering lights.

Swaying dancing.

 

It comes closer.

It grows larger.

Optical illusions.

Receding, evaporating.

 

Lights are flickering no more.

Glaring only.

Do ignore.

The blinding lights.

 

Light moving away.

It grows dimmer.

Sweet dreams.

Now adrift.

 

 

It is time.

So it seems, from the signs I see.

Is it time?

I wonder, from the storms raging within me.

Well, it must be time from this unceasing song.

The symphony that I cannot seem to quiet snuff out or quench.

This beautiful song of life.