So, today I was doing my occasional pondering and my mind fell on Jeanette, my old childhood friend. Now, Jeanette, off late, has not been quite the popular girl in our estate despite the fact we’ve been neighbors for almost fourteen years now. But funny thing is we haven’t spoken to each other in just about a decade… and it’s not that we had a falling out. No. I guess we just grew apart. Although, Jeanette has fallen out with just about every other friend she used to have (my brother included). And they all say that she’s not worth their time. They say her pride and haughtiness drove them away. And it’s true Jeanette had asked or commanded every past friend of hers out of her life. However, I am what they call; the black sheep. I am literally the only friend she didn’t ask out of her life. We just stopped talking. Just like that. No cause, no reason. And it would be foolish for me to say I had something against her just to stand by other’s opinions. But I don’t believe she is that bad at all. I mean… yeah! She’s intrusive and meddling and oblivious of other’s shame; but I believe beneath that entire hard solid exterior is a broken girl. A girl misunderstood by her own immediate society. By the people she grew up knowing. I believe that most nights (if any) she cries herself to sleep hating the person she’s become that is so loathed. Labeled. Isolated. My brother once told me that she inflicts physical pain on herself just to escape her emotions. Just to build up this crusty posterior. Just to uphold a perfect image of a teenage girl who is nothing but imperfection at its best. And it hit me. Her and I may have a lot in common than I give credit for. I mean, both of us are cutting off past friends to see who we truly are behind this social sheepish culture. But her for all the wrong reasons. Then I remembered that she used to tease me when we were little. Meh! Kids will be kids. But then I realized that she used to do these things to make up for her inefficiencies. To fill that globe-shaped hole within her. Now, am not writing this to expose her maliciously to the world. Nor, do I write for a neighborhood to understand her. Nor do I write to offer consolation since I don’t really know what she puts herself through. I simply write because it fascinates me; that a girl can do all this. Push away her friends. Consume herself with rage. And moreover, build a fake persona for society and her own imagination to approve, when society would be just fine with who she truly is. Nevertheless, I do miss a friend whom I have never had the courage to talk to for the past decade. I miss her devious smile mixed with hidden meaning. I miss her nosey laugh which always ended with a deep-inhaled chuckle. And even though she’s hated, I wrote this for her:

It has been ten years

And your voice not upon my ears

I get it, mine, is first hello

But friendship is preferred in black and white, not pale yellow

Much you’ve done to push away

Much you’ve achieved in what you didn’t say

Of what gain was this to you

You simply hidden what is true

That I can see to your pain

Through the silence mundane

And I can see it in your eyes

Much as fire, you freeze over with ice

Even when others opt for you first fist

Even though you’re hated, you’re missed



Step, one... two... step
Follow my voice, I will your shape
It's not hard, our dance
To will to you this chance
To sweep you off your feet
Your head on heartbeat
Don't you feel it, the tune
Sound of angels, melody of moon
It has but one, no alts
This song, made for our slow waltz

As I grab your waist
Felt love, of fine tastes
Forget the world, and its bane
For together, we're insane
As she dances all through the night
I feel the air thin, entight
In this movement, fit of a thousand colts
I feel her move in my arms, in my slow waltz

Frozen in dance, is my secret
Kept in long, is my regret
In dance, much foreseen
Unaging, evergreen
As I take her into my loving arms
Dancing under the light of a thousand stars
Slowly healing all scars
In this dance, I don't intend to right my faults
Not at all; I kiss her in our slow waltz


I wrote a little something to address those lovebirds who cant seem to quit on each other no matter what. That if it is worth it, and it always is people who love each other should be together. It is a poem…

Hello, my dear
Penned from my every tear
I walked by her home
And wept for her own
That hers to me, wouldn’t come by
No longer us? But her and I
I knew it’s not worth living
If I take and all she does is giving
I want her back, so I’ve placed my bet
It can’t be over, no! Not yet

All this time, I didn’t say enough
That I kept to myself when I heard you laugh
And I know it’s just been a day
But such on my heart heavily weigh
I don’t want to lose your smile
Or rather see it for a while
I can wait, I don’t care
If my heart to you is all you ask I share
But don’t tell me you’ve unrightly set
Don’t tell me it’s over, not yet!

I can’t do this, as well as you too
Dislocation is the hardest to do
I remember your love-striken giggle
To with my heart would fiddle
And that first day, you dared
Looked me in the eye, and begged I shared
With those big round eyes and that cute little face
I can’t abandon that, I must confess
I don’t need you here for a so-called date
I just need us, so it’s not over yet


Yesterday, I spoke to my beloved for the first time in three months- since I had school and everything. The conversation was its usual-monotonous with less life. I don’t know what happened but she asked for honesty in real sense. And yes, she was being honest. But she felt really sad when I told her about my dream of our first kiss. That maybe I couldn’t handle it. Or I would just be cold like I always am. Long story short, she felt hurt that she couldn’t really understand me at heart. Because I had worked so hard to build up this brick wall between me and the world that this emotional wall has blocked anyone or anything from breaking through to my heart…. but I do love her truly. Then again, I have written countless poems about her. Of love, of romance, of first kisses…… maybe I don’t really understand what love truly is about, and Lilo is very ready to judge my knowledge on the matter for the safety of her own heart. I guess I find it easier to express my emotions written down rather than in person. This is exactly what Loice craves for-personal connection-exactly what I feared. What I always fear. She desires an intimacy with me that I can only dream of giving, of getting. They say the captain in a relationship is the man. That he should direct his lady where to go, how, and for what reason- if it is reasonable a cause. I think the problem with me is that I am too permissive to a point that my permissiveness has breached my personal relationships that I prefer to ask the question ‘what shall we do’ rather than ‘what shall I do’. And Lilo hates it and she has felt it just as much as I have. I know I hurt her feelings by snubbing her out yesterday. I just didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to convince her I love her. It has proven that six hundred or so poems can’t do that. And so it has occurred to me that it is not what one says that draws a lover to him. No, not really. But it is what they do that makes the difference. ‘Actions speak louder than words’ if you will. Ultimately, my advice to myself and to any other love-stricken doof out there is that to keep her, you must do something tangible to her worth. Something that will make all the difference between you and the other vagabonds she turned down. Else wise, you’ll find yourself in a predicament like mine- in need of a true redemption.


So get this…yesterday, Lewis texted me for the first time in like a year since I shut him out. Shut him out? Why? For what cause? You may ask…. The guy is a creep. I mean he thought that since we interacted relatively well during camp more than a year ago, that am supposed to be sworn to him as a friend forever. And that’s just it. I never react well to force. I mean he tried to help me out when I tried to ask a girl out for date night that week but it was a bust anyways. And besides I landed Samuela. Sweet, sweet Samuela. I almost fell in love with her by the way, just as she did with me but… I can’t blame that on Lewis, it was all my fault. But the thing is with that continued fake friendship with the guy, he kept reminding me of Samuela. Yap! The guy actually obsessed over a girl who rejected him. He probably wasn’t the first. It soon became annoying because it kept reminding me of the fact that I may have blown the best chance at a girl in my youthful life. So I had to cut him off because; one; he is obsessive. Secondly, he kept showing up at my house so unannounced my family literally freaked out and declared ‘Cut him off completely’. I would have rebelled but they were right anyway, I loved my solitude. And I hated anyone trying to break it, unless I allowed them, like Lilo of course. So there you have it; number two; he is intrusive. Thirdly, he is too emotional. He takes my cutting him off to heart. Ugh! Like what the hell! He is clingy. Why doesn’t he just accept and move on. So there you have it. Additional reasons include the fact that he’s not presentable in public. Some may even consider him repulsive. And that’s not good for my status quo. Am charming, he’s not. Am lovable, he isolatable. So we don’t really click. I am the cream of the crop, and he? Well he is the creepy crawlee. So it may be social demands, or even personal differences, but am not about to begin putting my hope in a friendship with an untrustworthy creep in need of desperate redemption

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