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Strange little thing

Unnoticed in cozy crazy shades of lazy,
You’re tiny, the size of my palm warms you,
It’s empty? no, I prefer you as a hole.
Worth thousands of volts, electric and much too strong,
You hide in a secret place of my mind,
You take all the time you think you need and I don’t,
Creeping out on funny flames that you’re burning,
Your skin, I wish you had one.

How many names you have in this world,
Myths about you are collateral,
A mystery to some, to whom you don’t exist, even as a hole,
Your vibrations could be numbed but what a torture if they aren’t,
This strange little thing! A strange little snitch!
Shocks and strokes from some of your tricks,
When we repel from what we both resist,
I pass out in soul crash downs and touchdowns.

Case opened, lil guy you talk people out of catching you,
I am not one of the kind you mess around and run away with it, murder
You mock us and have fun having heavy names in your smallness
I rent you the most precious of houses,
Doesn’t look like it is enough,
If it were, life couldn’t be so tough!

You’re examinable!
And I’m left with so little time to revise you!

They taught me how to run, but you teach me how to fly!
I want to buy you a body, that’d make me a painter,
Since you’re unimaginable!
Cold nights of empty sounds of our strange little conversations,
You’re yet too quietly enjoying adventures unheard of.
Strange little secrets!
Think of how happy I could be, sleeping.

Making deals and shaking hands enchanting how proud we are of each other,
Yet you embarrass me more than anything I own,
You sit on my brain, cross fingered hoping for my best,
We cheer each other up and hold hands at our worst,
Repeating illusions and spitting a few lucid dreams and ideas until they don’t hurt!
I come home to you, and you promise the next days are yet a new history!
I’m pushed and voila you disappear again, in that strange little hole!

If this case were ever closed,
You’re only blurry when I have no clear vision,
You’re scared to come out if I don’t usher you in with beast volumes,
I dig the holes hoping to catch you,
You start to burn me for not being proud of you!
Teach me how to listen and walk with you the miles you have to race between my mind and heart!
How to feel with a less self-centered strange little gut,
And oh thank you, strange little gift.

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Contradictional Love

Love, you are a walking contradiction. 

Such an assault to my senses.

Just yesterday I was drunk in love,

Today all of a sudden I am overly dehydrated I need an IV!

The gospel on love is me on a Sunday afternoon, sharing joy and making love,

Singing hymns of my love on concerts of my fairytales,

No sooner than the finale performance, I hate giving my cookie jar up!
Love, you’re such a deal breaker, boy you can’t afford my heart!

The other day you broke it I vowed I won’t do you no more!

We closed the deal and promised to never break it not even for kings and dons!

You say a quick yes, but somehow you peeped into my ugly secrets on the boy who served the merchants,

Disguised yourself in humble mantras and convince my dehydrated soul that love in that way is okay!
I say a quick yes but here I am drunk on love again I don’t know if Saturday morning won’t find me in the arms of my new favorite dream!

How long are you staying anyway?

“As long as it takes”, like seriously?

But earlier on in this week you said you don’t have enough room in my dark heart and you say you’re staying?

Can’t you be a little bit unpredictable? Keep some mystery?

I know I don’t mean it that way but can you please give me some space?

I need some fresh air, even from that young good looking charming man!

Don’t tease me with the nonsense of spend the rest of my life standing by him,

Don’t preach me about having the best man in the world, I know he is but please get out!
Tell me one more secret before you go! How do you do that?

He said what? 

I said, how do you make someone glow just because they let you in?

That very moment smiles change their radius, 

The hue and saturation filters change, on the tones of our respective skins, and

Suddenly flaws disappear

We all become angels towards each other, days finally seem to be paradise-ish

We can’t get enough of each other!

But why can’t you be consistent for once?

Does it make you happy to see us break each other? Where do you hide after killing us slowly?

Where do you take the pieces of us you keep removing from us?

What do you do with them?

How does it help you when we can no longer communicate happily?

When we’re fighting what on earth is going through your mind?
Goddamn it, you’re a contradiction!

You want it rough, so if I am a bit tender you don’t afford me, you walk past me!

You want it romantic so if this time I come so rough, you think I’m ghetto!

Adult or not you still want to be playing games!

I mean, who are you?

Who do you think you are?

Nobody gets you right! Some spend years together you break them for no good reason!

Some get a fire over one month and you’re so faithful and loyal to them!

Please for one last time, stop being a contradiction!

You make some of us look stupid!

POETRY

Who is my best friend?

I don’t know how it feels like to have a best friend.

It’s the people who totally know nothing about me that always have an opinion about me.

I’m completely dishonest with myself because I don’t know how it feels to say everything to totally one person for the rest of my life,

The snippets I share with you may not completely relate to what I tell my church friend,

The details of my love life may not come out in the tales of a girl in love the same way I tell my old school friend who has no idea I have that female side of me.

So I suppose I really don’t have that figured yet, who is my best friend?

I am jealous of people who don’t even think twice to answer that simple question, it has always been one person, and maybe they have a new one. They even afford calling someone an ex best friend, I can’t. 

There has never been a current one, I don’t even have a forever one. I have never entitled any human being completely responsible for everything I love and hate,

The truth is there’s no truth on me being anyone’s best friend too. They’d expect me to stay the same and the truth insists my truth keeps changing too.

According to my style of doing things, I keep it in store, chew it down until all corners are much clear now. I tell you what I feel you can add unto, make me see in a totally different side of view.

It’s like it comes to me in dark and complicated patterns to me, it doesn’t come so easily to me to tell the closest individual what my next move is.

I gotta struggle to connect it the right way for another human being’s language to understand,

It’s a code to me, I need to interpret it and get someone to read it to me in the words I actually am scared to admit to anyone.

So, I don’t know what it feels like to have a person connect to that kind of reality with me.

But I want it, I want for somebody to love me in silence, I love it when someone understands a code written on my forehead that shit ain’t straight with me.

For you to be my insurance policy, for me to untangle my crazy locks of ideas and not be afraid you might not like them. 

Accidents, fires and bruises always be standby from what my thoughts contain and back me up.

Stay with me when I experience things I don’t know how to say in words or write about,

Incarcerate yourself with my whole soul until we get the best version of these stories….

Be my best friend in that type of way.

Lift my head up, see my spirit through that…

See my brokenness, enthusiasm, panic and stress, breathe in and out with me.

Say words I don’t understand, treat my wounds and destroy what you think I don’t deserve,

Probably that will stimulate me to open up.

I may start from there to draw you a picture of the status quo of my mind,

It may be a reason I want to win an argument with the information I have been feeding myself,

Cause I’m tired of self-imprisonment,

 A soul like yours was the reason I am writing this, it’s a start to my hope to finding my best friend,

You do quite a thing or two that make me reconsider, ever finding an answer to,

Who is my best friend?

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What took you so long?

What took you so long?

Friends we had been for too long; 

Felt for once I had a place where I belong

For years we confided, the kind they write in songs;

Forged or answered questions, and explored them in sibling arguments,

Freaked me out and calmed me down with strangely declared compliments,

Figured my sassy personality needed no amendments,

Focused on perks of being your boothang, you had no replacements.
Between you and me, were only personal boundaries;

Besties and things about which I made no enquiries,

Buddies and hobbies were none my worries,

Brings me back to a point, I was one of them. It sent me a sort of messages,

Back at home, you filled my phone memory with miss you messages,

But you still chose to love me, the way a best friend manages,

Breaking no rules, for you to cause my heart no damages.
How would you care and share that much, and expect to leave me the same?

Hanging me on a stack of feelings that I couldn’t even hardly tame,

Holding the key to our love in your hands but still I’m the one to blame,

How could I stand up for myself when I was not sure you felt the same?

Heights of love I had no way to measure,

Hate admitting you were my simplest and hardest day’s pleasure,

Haven’t I always talked to you even on days of no leisure?
What took you so long?

Why didn’t you start it as one of your statements that get me thinking so hard?

When did I ever critique your sense of senses? I know I wouldn’t say it’s awkward. 

What love in the world was ever more than what we had?

We took hours and hours doing exactly what we do now, love in all languages,

We spent years, in a bubble of love we could have for ages,

What took you so long to tell me you love me?
I wanted you to sensate me,

Ignoring the kind of drama I was going to roll my eyes off me,

Imagining I am as human and as much in need to have love glow on me,

If love and friendship are headlines of our story, 

It would’ve inspired me to live every day, how I like, in a double mystery,

It makes me want to cry, yes it does.

What took you so long? You know what I see as fake,

We would tell from my eyes I wouldn’t lie or make your heart break.

What took you so long to tell me you love me?
Now that I think about it, you feared ever loosing me. You covered up in shadows of a just a loyal friend,

Nodding to stories of my failing relationships, offering advice on boys you couldn’t even defend.

Numbering days we spent apart, as if what we had was about to end,

Leaving me in a spot of target if I don’t ask you to not pretend.

Lies are not your gift, but hiding yourself sure is your thing,

Letting me go was impossible, letting me in was far from your dreaming,
What took you so long, to say that you love me?

Now I have found a place I belong.

For years, I will confide in you the way they write in songs.

Forge or answer questions and explore them in sibling arguments,

Freak me out and calm me down with strangely declared compliments,

Figure my sassy personality needs no amendments,

Focus on perks of being your boothang, you have no replacements.

Love is more like that, I am not tripping.

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Rough

She’s insecure, she takes things too far

Her voice is always on top she thinks she talks in hushes

She suffocates the whole room with her issues,

She complicates me.

By night she ridicules soft people, laughs at those who obey and thrive to be of honor,

And I don’t blame her, she had no idea, she knew only Rough Love.
In the morning, there is no peace to who she wakes up to,

Insults and noise for every living thing to know she’s up.

But I don’t blame her. The fake smile and cool performed personality, what a woman!

Two faced and tattooed in a godly image but she doesn’t discern that

The sun has told the moon about her. And the moon knows about all her 4 am secrets

Believe me. I don’t blame her, it’s all because of the rough love.
She acts coach on good life, luxury and peace, riches and love and all the counsels

I swear she won an Oscar the day she threatened her man to leave 

She don’t know kids are watching sometimes, she forgets she raising women of tomorrow

Even though none of them has guts to hiss or wail. 

She is a marriage counselor, I don’t understand this because I am part of it.

I bleed this truth from my hands because maybe the fingertips of patience have pressed so hard against my lips, they choked my voice out of me
My prayer goes to you tough woman of rough love, may you understand we see it

We feel it and it’s bitter and cold by the way.

You push us further away from you every time we think of how doubly you think and act

We are not safe and we could have been if this love was a woman’s magic touch

You could be fragile, you were born as pure as a dove

You got torn up by the hunger of vultures

You flew too far for all the wrong reasons and took regrettable paths

You came back with a change of feathers

Plucked out your own and forgot you are on monitor, you’re looked up to.

  May you find rough love another nest to avoid? 

Being missed is one thing but being lost is another.

I still don’t blame you, you think your intensity shouldn’t be tamed but 

You need to apologize for renting some of us with unreal and temporary sweet love

Or so be it, rough love.

Call it rough African tough woman.

I just no longer find it relevant

I know Sweet women who listen

Grown women who blossom their kittens

Shade love and care yet so genuinely

They talk sense and portray it naturally

They are tough but respect they are feminine

Why you gon feed me with hate but there is so much innocence in a young girl longing to be loved.

How do I know how to love and not shout?

Argue without yelling?

Prove a point in a private manner?
Rough love? What does class even mean to you?

What about virtue?

You have no idea what legacy is.

Besides the acting awards, what else?

I long to see daughters of the nation learn how to ask your sons for forgiveness without changing their tones and suddenly be nice

And bring a material worth nothing more than the same mistakes we are bound to make over and over again,

Rough love, stop pulling my legs, you darken our icons!

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My Self Image, My Category.

There is a common expression that says,” what do you see when you look at yourself in the mirror every morning? Maybe some of you did believe and try to experiment it, and for a long time I feared that exercise. Because I knew that once my mirror agrees with my heart, I’ll never run away from that haunting torture of an image of what a wonder I could be looking at.

I knew, I wasn’t looking to find out, I knew exactly what I was born to do. I knew the category of people, women and girls I would look at if I looked in the mirror. But that also, didn’t mean I was not going to imagine and dream on even if I don’t look in the mirror. 

When we are all filling out forms, nationality and gender are two things we can’t discuss that we are sure of. It is clear, you know it even if they asked you sleeping, you know it that you are from Rwanda or Canada. You are female or male. Simple. That is how sure I was about my category, what my mirror would show me wouldn’t be news to me. 

When I finally took the courage to look in the mirror this time not my eyebrows, and eye liner… I saw myself in the range of women who speak to souls from age 8; their words of intelligence, they spend a lot of time reading, analyzing, loving, dreaming, adoring, criticizing and observing with a sharp eye that when it’s time for them to speak, you better be silent. Digest word by word, take it in, and it sticks to your memory for life.  I saw Maya Angelou, Oprah Winfrey, Eleanor Roosevelt, but I also saw Sharon Kalimba. 

I started thinking of putting it to reality, stopped imagining that it was a dream, I decided it is a mirror that points out exactly what is sees. It doesn’t create. I said to myself that later may become never, I started putting myself in the position of my category. Life became a reality, worth living, no fear to be haunted living a life I knew deeply wasn’t meant for me. 

I don’t know if you have tried this exercise, just like me I didn’t even believe in it. Maybe you don’t know this category yet. But take a chance, look for as long as you want. Train if need be, study if you have to, travel, risk, adventure until what is in the mirror reflects what is in your heart…you’ll set off to a journey that adds meaning to your life, but above all, it puts a stop to imagining and wishing, you simply put into reality. It is so much simpler to draw what you see. Choose your category, draw your face on it. And whether you think you can or can’t, you’re right

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There is no light at the end of the tunnel

 I have ever been in a  relationship with a charming, young man. He was nice and everything I could fall in love with. I was endlessly on cloud nine, happy, you know a young girl drunk in love. I was in a 360 degrees embrace in him, his thoughts, his words, his passions, he merged me with himself to a point he was everything I thought about. I gave him lots of time, lots of parts of my life, my family, friends, he was everywhere, and I wanted him every other second of my life. 

I struggled with giving up a few of my principles, but I always nodded “anything for you, my Love”. Something I know many girls can understand. We always tend to feel scared to lose these people and give up some core values and principles for them to stay even though somehow somewhere they can do the exact opposite. I spent days and months, feeding myself with his so called love, his care, and I wanted to make myself believe that I was in the best time of my life. I did believe it. I was okay with sneaking out, stay out late as well, my family questioned me, even friends thought I was not doing the right thing, but understood, I was in love I mean duh. He’s the apple of my eye, the light and love of my life.

Breaks, fights, misunderstandings, and quarrels were a big part of it but I overlooked them as part of every other relationship. It brought me to a much deeper injury, I knew I had to end it. I hit rock bottom. I was blank for a while until I concluded that there probably won’t be any person to love me again if I ever stopped seeing him. My world had revolved around him to a certain depth that I didn’t actually talk about it with anybody because I had no friends anymore, it was just him. He didn’t let me out of his embrace, I was held hostage in the name of love.  No one to confide in with such delicate information or even a person to pour out my anger on, and my disappointment. The amount of feelings that were flooding me were unbearable, I thought nobody deserves to be under my burden of depression, trust me, that version of me is terrible.

It brought me to the only hope I always have under all the worst conditions life puts me through, and though some people pray, others go to alcohol, watch some soccer, and you do what you do. But here is what I do, I read hard core poetry. I always joke with my friends that I don’t have a bible, poetry is my religion. When I read it I relate to it more than anything else. I feel fulfilled, and I feel the joy from knowing some people have ever felt whatever I am feeling, before. I connect with it because I also pretty much can’t easily let out my feelings in word-of-mouth. 

Now, English has these common sayings I find interesting. That there is light at the end of the tunnel. In my hurting period, I stumbled upon this saying one to many times I started questioning myself what tunnel is it? Which light is it? Why does it come at the end? Who lights it? How long is the tunnel? Is the tunnel dark anyway? A logician I am, I don’t take a saying for a saying. I take it word by word. To understand, I analyze it with facts. 

My love journey seemed like a perfect metaphor to put the saying to use in my life. Actually I remixed it in my own words.  I changed there is light at the end of the tunnel to there is light at anywhere you want it to be. I decided to relive every form of life I had lived before him. In the saying, I refer to this situation I was in as the tunnel.  And instead of waiting for the end of this tunnel, I wanted to create some light from within the tunnel, so that by the time I reach the end of it, this new light won’t burn me again. I will just appreciate that the light will be much brighter and that I have come from one place to another, and probably a much better one. 

I valued and put on the table the person I had always been. I remember taking on leadership roles, be the active person I had always been. I have always enjoyed writing and reading poems, singing and dancing. I had love for art, pets, sport and traveling to the upcountry. I loved my family, and always surrounded myself with good energy. I was that oddly entertaining and exciting girl I felt wowed at. I figured, I have enough light already to light up this tunnel. I lived as though this man was nonexistent and dominated my own life not because I didn’t want to love him but because I was beginning to understand that this was exactly how I am supposed to live in every situation. I started surrounding myself with anything that allows me to reflect the light in me. I spent time with people who believe in me and have no intention in making me their own property. Who celebrate me, love me and want to see this light I shed in their lives. I walked out of the embrace slowly and I started seeing light much more. I started telling myself how amazing I am, how incredible and rare I am. It is too much gift to waste trying to solve this relationship crisis. I understood that only I have the authority to find that light, turn it on within the tunnel. 

After carefully and closely paying attention to the light that lives within me, I chose to create it and live with it, use it however and whenever I wanted. I sat him down and told him, Sir, I refuse to constantly live in the shadow of your unsure and mood swings. I can’t afford waiting for that perfect moment, from you so that we can be happy. My life is okay with or without you, and not only you. Even if it were my parents or friends who would have thought I highly depend on them for my entire happiness. If a tunnel is really that dark, I will have my own light until I see the kind of light I need. If there is a person who lights the tunnel, it better be me. 

It was of no surprise to me, that he eventually saw I was limitless even without him. If it scared him, I don’t know. If it was bad I don’t understand how me being powerful was a problem, some people, things, insecurities, debts, women, men you can name it want us to rely on them and give them power over us. You keep giving them the impression you’re waiting on them, to get your life together. I refused to be a victim, I walked out, but the same light I was seeking is the one I found. Feeling whole, vibrant, and happy all by myself or with someone. Today, I have reached the end of the tunnel. He loves and embraces me, the whole light, he lets me shine and encourages me to do more, not him being the center of my life. It is what I have always looked for in a tunnel. Don’t wait for light, be light everywhere, anywhere, light may find you in light already, and that’s okay. Do exactly what you’re supposed to do, with or without light. Refuse to wait for it from outside even when you don’t see any end at all.

Make a choice today, commit yourself to this saying. Tell yourself every day, most especially in your challenges, troubles that the light is not at the end of the tunnel. Light is wherever you want it to be. See light from within, everything else comes after. You start seeing things you could never see if you kept acting blind or as if it is dark throughout the tunnel. Think of every situation as a lesson to reflect how much light you have right within you, you won’t regret remixing this old saying.