Skip to main content

We don't talk much anymore. Actually, we don't talk at all.

We don't talk much anymore.
Actually, we don't talk at all





 I.
It probably happens to a lot of us;
We meet up with another beautiful soul,
Fascinated as our eyes shimmer in pure adoration.
We get drawn to each other;
Late night chats,
Good morning texts,
Long phone calls into the evenings.

We shared every of our dreams.
Giggling, as our goals clashed time and again,
Ticking items of the soulmate target,
A down to earth kinda challenge.

"I've found another best friend,
This would last forever."
We told each other, and talked even more;
Split our souls in halves and exchanged a part each.
The stars aligned our fates, as our fingers reached for one another.

 II.

The evenings are lonely these days.
The cold nights, a recurring torture,
And the stars have begun to bear another meaning.
How much do I miss you?
I really can't put a figure on that.
I can tell you it gets me slipping outta my head a lotta times though.

How the good morning texts faded into gloomy hellos,
And the long phone calls got replaced by distant waves.
You seemed comfortable with the space,
So I lay it all out.


 III.

Seemed I should've fought a little harder for you;
For what I came to terms with as "Us".
Only I had no thoughts how to,
Nor do I have any hopes on making you look in my face once more.
Pride, maybe.

Now when I see you,
My heart skips three beats,
My palm gets a little sweaty.
So I wave a low hello,
Avoiding your outstretched hand for a curtsey shake.

We were never one to be courteous.
We used to swim on the brink of love chasms.
Now you don't get to tell me you miss me,
Nor I you.


 IV.

We've drift apart.
A bit too far apart.
Yet even now, I'd give anything to place my head on your shoulders once more,
More than anything would I give to learn, to show you how bad I want to give to love you.

Not just in my head,
But every of my words;
Off of my lips,
And down in my spluttering ink.





Down with you,
Every down you know.
Down with you,
Every depth you are willing to pull me along into.






Qetsiyah,
To what once was.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Best in beauty

This is a selfhype rendition It was my birthday a couple of weeks back and I realised that I actually love myself more than I let on. So I'm doing this as a special dedication to the finest girl I've ever set my eyes on out there. Here's a note to myself, filled with words that I'd love to hear from time to time. Words I hope I believe when I tell myself, especially on the bad days.  I miss having a full length mirror here. You can imagine how frustrating it is to have this full package and not be able to stare at it when I walk out of the shower every morning. I went through my gallery earlier today and didn't know when I exclaimed "Omooooo". I'm hella fine and I'm not even capping. If I were a guy, I'd woo myself. Heck, if I were another female, I'd spend a lot of time wondering what my skin care routine is. The beauty routine. And I won't even realise when I'd be like "Girllllll, you're fine af. I want to be under your s...

Hobbies are not free

  I don't want to be anything When I was a little girl, I wanted to become so many things. I wanted to be a journalist one time because Jiire Kola-Kuforiji looked like she was having a swell time reading the news on TV. She looked so confident in the information she was passing to the whole country and boy, did she not look so beautiful? A couple of weeks later, my mom had me on her legs in a bus as I watched the conductor count the money in his hand. A lot of notes. He was probably a millionaire, I thought to myself. Then, I decided that becoming a conductor wasn't going to be a bad idea. I got home and we turned everything we could find into a moving Danfo bus. Shouting "Owo e da" and holding a bunch of paper notes.  One day, I overheard the adults speaking and somewhere along the conversation, I realized I had been an idiot all the while. The real cash was in banking. There was a whole machine that counted money because they had so much money to count in one day! W...

It's the hope that kills

The thoughts in my head are haywire.  My co-worker had a fourth baby last month. I got married a decade before her, yet I have none. The baby's cries irritates me, but I don't get to complain. She tells me everything; too many details. She asks me to borrow her money sometimes, not that I have much to spare, but I can't hold back or I'd be termed the hater.  The baby is just a baby. I can't say if he's beautiful or not; I just get disgusted that she's having it easy. There was another baby today; a little girl, I heard. I should've gone to say hello to the mother, but she's also just another young girl who shouldn't be having babies of her own; she's barely twenty. Yet someway, she had no problem conceiving when she didn't want a child. She should still be in school, but there she sits welcoming well-wishers with no thought as to how she intends to raise the thing she has just birth.  I ask why I'm so unfortunate in this regard. It...