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You sneaked up on me.

You startled me.

You surprised me.

You left me speechless.

 

I tentatively opened my eyes.

I hesitantly got out of bed.

I slowly stretched my lethargic frame.

I grudgingly stood up to face you.

 

Why couldn’t you accord me a few more minutes?

 

To gather my thoughts,

To toughen my heart,

To brace my soul,

To take a deep breath.

 

You have zeroed in on me.

You unleash your weighty demands upon me.

You pour your obligations on my bewildered mind.

Can’t you simplify it for me, dear today!

 

You see, I am on the verge of burnout.

Whoa!
Darling elbow, why are you grouchy today?
Your eyes are throwing flaming darts at me.
You are aiming them with such precision.

Your anger is a volcano in eruption.
It is throwing up molten lava.
It is spewing extremely hot nothings towards me.

Oh!
Precious elbow, I have tried to reduce my workload.
I know what I put in place is not enough.
My effort is a drop in this ocean of rheumatic pain.

Please, do believe in my good intentions.
If I could do more or is it less, I would gladly do so.
I implore you, do ease this pain.

It is killing me!

Dear laughter, my faithful companion.
You did well today.
I salute you.
I congratulate you.

My bosom friend, I felt your warmth today.
I witnessed your faithfulness towards me.
You covered my nakedness.
You shielded me from shame.

If it weren’t for you, I would be exposed.
My wretched estate would be plain for all to see.
My brokenness laid bare.
The ruins of my heart stripped naked before all.

Thank you, my savior.
You hid me well.
They only saw the gleeful mask.
The real me, you hid so well.

I am forever grateful, the dearest companion of my wrecked estate.

He sat still, feeling small.
He held himself together.
Though deep inside, he was shaking like a leaf.

Each word she spat out was like venom.
The things she said lacerated him.
They shattered his already wounded heart.

She forged on with sadistic relish.
She dished criticism and insult all in one platter.
She spat vitriol, and it was like water off a duck’s back to him.

Then she dropped the atomic bomb.
It exploded his armor.
It shredded his soul.

He stood abruptly.
His eyes haggard, lost, and broken.
He disbelieved what he had heard.

How could she have gone so low?
Why did she dredge filth and fling it at him?
He had ignored most of her remarks, but not this one.

She had broken the foundation that made him who he was.
He left, removing himself from her toxic presence. He looked for a place to lick his wounds in private.

He needed to put together the splintered pieces of his heart, his esteem, and his self-worth.

It is familiar.
We have been here before.

The creeping chilling cold.
The stifling smothering heat.

The mourning groaning wind.
The raming battering waves.

The strident screeching shouts.
The hefty lonesome distance.

The crushing insidious indifference.
It is all too familiar, this territory.

This road, we have trod before.
We have walked more than a mile in these shoes, with their loose heartstrings!

Speak gently.
Listen patiently.
Smile encouragingly.

Uplifting words.
Healing statements.
Reflections that lighten up the daily load.

Sweet talk.
Pleasant chatter.
Tender words that rain on my parched soul.

I don’t know what to tell you, so I don’t call.
I don’t know where I stand with you, so I keep off.
I seem aloof and distant, but I am not.
My heart is burning with the urge to move closer to you.
Yet, I dare not come close, lest you reject me again.

Enjoy the moment.
Delight in the simple things in my life.
It seems so vague and overwhelming.
How can I do this, in the present circumstances?
Yet, if I don’t change my state of mind, can I avoid crashing and burning?
I am worried and stressed.
Anxiety has robbed me of my peace of mind.
I feel drained, and I am on the verge of shutting down.
My way of escape is to inhabit the moment.
I will enjoy the moment.
One day, one hour, one minute, one second, one step, one breath at a time.
It is all I am capable of doing.
I guess it is ok, for I am moving in the right direction.
It is all I know to do.

I hope you are doing well.
I am well, for now.
I hope our state of being well will outlast this pandemic.

But if you or your loved ones have been affected, I still wish you well.
I acknowledge your fears and pain.
I commiserate and grieve with you.

I wish you a better now and tomorrow; Even though things seem so bleak at the moment.
I wish you peace and strength to come out of this.
You are not alone.

I cried, but no tear fell.
I wept, yet it remained a barren land.
No dew drops formed on my eyelids.
No fountain flowed down my cheeks.

A heavy veil blurred my vision.
A dark storm cloud filled my sight.
My throat battled to keep its composure.
My voice perturbed, become husky and tremulous.

Keening, I grabbed my chest, crumbling to my knees.
I let all the waves of sorrow wash over me.
Each rising tide threatened to submerge me.
They crashed upon the rock of my guarded heart.

I wailed.
Now, I bawl no more.
Spent, I am!
I am a discarded corncob emptied of its kernels of hope.

A worn-out smile stretched and unfolded itself upon her face.

She sighed a deep, soulful sound that echoed the wretchedness of her bleeding heart.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, counting the cobwebs to keep her mind occupied.

The cracks on the ceiling smirked at her tauntingly.

They savagely reminded her that her life lay broken at her feet.

It was a reality she couldn’t flee, no matter how hard she tried.

She exhaled, her soul weary.

Her eyes and heart full to the brim. 

 

Standing is an issue.

Sitting for too long isn’t an option.

Lying down too often is not agreeable.

Oh, lovely bones, what are you up to today?

Why do you groan and creak all day long?

You make me long for a lengthy quiet slumber.

I yearn for deep sleep that will make me numb.

I need to rest from this load that makes me lumber.

Why did you make me your target?

Rheumatism, you tear  my abode asunder.

I consent to your demands, so please release me and let me be.

The future of my articulation is in danger if you continue to  plunder.

 

 

Stop!

Slow down.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Let your body and soul relax and unwind.

Enjoy each breath.

For life is a gift.

 

 

Pacify you.

Placate them.

Propitiate who?

Please, me!

 

 

I cried.

I felt helpless.

The last sense of security I had withered and dried.

It fell off and evaporated in the scorching heat of need and lack.

I looked on defeated as the last Euros I had stashed away slipped off my hand.

I tried to hold on to them to no avail.

Bills were bills, and they waited for no one.

Not even me.

 

 

There are things one cannot rush.

Don’t precipitate them.

If you do, they will not reach their destination.

They will get lost along the way.

 

 

I am full yet overflowing with emptiness.

I am whole, yet my emotions are a patchwork of splintered, broken dreams.

I am in good company, yet loneliness throttles me with its icy mantle.

I tread carefully.

I touch gingerly.

I edge forward with caution.

 

 

My heart almost jumped out of my mouth.

I was terrified.

My nerves were trembling and couldn’t breathe.

I didn’t know what to do.

The long calm wait was suffocating me with its ominous, foreboding, cynical smile.

I trembled, my palms were so clammy I could barely hold my key.

I felt the grating sound of approaching feet that echoed and thundered upon my eardrums.

I ran as fast as my wobbly legs could carry me.

My lungs were on fire as I tried to take in as much oxygen as my panting from exertion would let me.

I was tired, but I had to move on fast.

I wanted to stay alive.

 

 

It’s morning again.

I want to cuddle up.

I want to stay under the covers.

But, wake up, I must.

I peel myself from the warm embrace of my bed.

I step out to face the day.

First things first, I tell myself; as I wash my face and take my breakfast.

Dearest bed, I will make you pretty.

Yes, I will make my bed before I leave to face the day.

For you see, this is my first task and achievement of the day.

So make my bed, I will. 

 

 

What am I trying to prove?

To whom am I proving it?

Why do I strive so hard to please this faceless persona?

How did I become trapped in this maze of “perfection”?

When did I start demanding it from everyone else except myself?

 

Or, did I?

Aren’t I the first casualty of this lead mantle?

This stifling, strangling cape is snuffing the life out of those around me and myself.

I struggle with the shortcomings within me.

Oh! That I may finally be the imperfect human, I am.

 

I have many flaws.

I bumble, stumble and fall, often.

I fumble, bungle, and blunder.

I miss the mark many times.

I still dare stand tall, for I am moving forward.

 

I learn from my mistakes.

I am growing, albeit in a slow manner.

I forge through dense “undergrowth” of self doubt, guilt and judgment.

I release me and you all.

Let’s embrace who we are and be the best version of ourselves.

 

Work in progress, imperfect, but thriving!