Scribbles

2022-07-01 10:37:10 I read somewhere once, the opposite of love isn't hate - it is indifference.
And I fear I'll start to feel it towards you.
That one day someone will mention your name and I will feel nothing.
And every morning I wake up it feels like I am getting one step closer.

I don't remember falling for you being that hard.
Now I look for you behind beautiful words and good music.
Trying to recreate the spark I once felt,
to bring back the love your name filled me with.

And today music is blasting through my ears, asking questions.

*ቢጎል እንጀራ ከመሶቡ ላይ፣
እናት በሌላ ይቀየራል ወይ?*

Well. I hope you never experience a hunger that deep for you to find out.

【Abyssinia】


#RANDOM_THOUGHTS Open / Comment

2022-06-25 11:05:42 This is a debate I have with myself almost everyday.
የጸሎት መጽሐፌን እያየሁ...
መቼ ልጸልይ?
ጠዋት?
ወይስ ማታ?
No. Not today though.
I have so many things to ask today.
And I know He won't be tired of it but I don't want to develop a habit of praying when I only have something to ask.
(Yes, that's my excuse.)

So when?
Maybe tomorrow?

Do I stop asking tomorrow?
When do humans stop asking?
Do they ever?
If tomorrow comes, will it be the day I only give thanks?
Will I?

መጠየቅም ለካ ለተፈቀደለት ነው...


#RANDOM_THOUGHTS Open / Comment

2022-06-19 17:59:57 ***
በመጀመሪያው ቃል ነበረ፡፡
***

In the beginning there were words.
And with them there was him.
There was a man.

A story teller.
A reader.

I like to think that is the second face I ever saw but the first memory I can muster is after I am all grown.
*Him in the dining table with a book and me sitting beside him, waiting for him to read out loud*

In the beginning there was a book.
And with it existed love.
In between the lines.

And love was a man.
A strong presence.
An eye that eventually convinces you to see who you were through his lense : the very best.

It was an audience.
A loud cheer from the crowd that supported you with a lot of confidence.
A proud man that hasn't doubt you would ace a competition you did not prepare for.
Love was he who rooted for your success.

It was also the same presence that tells you he was bored out of his mind and was dying to have a cup of coffee outside when you couldn't make it to the final quarter.
Love was the man you know will always be there after your failure.

Love was a presence.
The one who was there for as long as you could remember.

In the beginning there were words,
and love was the man who introduced them to you
it was the full picture and the background
that listened and talked to you.

It was when you hit a jackpot
and win a gift from above,
Love was the man that made you after you were made,
the one that taught you love.

In the beginning there were words.
And with them existed him.
A story teller.

Love was a man.
Love was a father.

-Where did you learn love? (፩)


#Not_so_random_thoughts Open / Comment

2022-06-14 20:00:25 (II)

…And on her heels a girl stands,
Trembles on a ledge,
Looking down...

Don’t ask her how she got here she wouldn’t know the answer,
Was it her mother’s prayer or her father’s curse?
Was it the toxins of the ground; the fire below the surface?
Was it the star that shined day and night?
Was it the voice of God?
Don’t ask,
She wouldn’t know.

...And she heard whispers in the night
So she climbed the next morning…

She found herself self-conscious
As if realizing for the first time what was about to happen,
Elohim was nowhere to be found;
She was deserted, fear held her soul as her feet gave out,
The wings of Daedalus embraced her,
She burns as she descends…

...And in the moment the town gathered on the surface, to witness the new idiot that listened to the whispers of the night. To pity a life lost and to relate in some sort of way. And they gather in silence to pass criticisms about a girl that gambled with her life. They gather to pass judgement on an innocent soul; the town’s new fool…

-The Girl That Fell
@MenAce7 Open / Comment

2022-06-13 20:00:23 (I)

…And on a hill side a girl stands,
She stands on a ledge,
Looking up…

Don’t ask her how she got here she wouldn’t know the answer,
Was it her mother’s prayer or her father’s curse?
Was it the toxins of the ground; the fire below the surface?
Was it the star that shined day and night?
Was it the voice of God?
Don’t ask,
She wouldn’t know.

And she heard whispers in the night
So she climbed the next morning…

She takes deep breaths,
Her tomorrow starts today;
Today is her rapture,
History was about to be made in the town that scorned her presence,
She was about to prove herself wrong.
God smiles,
Her halo forms as she ascends…

…And in the moment a bird happens to be flying by, noticing a radiance on a hillside. He witnessed the transformation of a species, another soul that got the best of her abilities. He noticed a girl’s ascension; her kind making it out alive. He noticed a hero’s journey. He saw the girl.

-The Girl That Flew
@MenAce7 Open / Comment

2022-06-06 14:08:02 And I find myself wondering if you would give that up..
The you that lives when he doesn't,
would you bring him back to life
and cease to exist?
A coffin for two - but only one can reside in it.
He was there first.
And he made a home out of it.
But I see you wondering every now and then if you could let him out,
would you choose to be in it?
*Claustrophobic*

I see you.
I see everyday when the grief takes bits of you,
and the survival eats what's left of it.

To you that mourns him everyday,
To you that continued to exist.

I see you struggle with every breath you take, thinking how he doesn't.
To you that continued to live when he didn't.

To you that is still here,
that survived,
I see you struggling to live
longer than the time you knew him alive.

I see grief,
I see bruised blue,
and in the midst of all this sadness
I see you.

-A coffin for two (III)


#RANDOM_THOUGHTS Open / Comment

2022-06-05 14:08:02 Your soul that carries both him and you, would it survive?
Because at first you lived.
And so did he.
Sometimes it is hard to recall but you lived while he did.
You existed at the same timeline,
until you didn't.
You were when he was
and when he wasn't.
You continued to exist.
A broken version of you lived.
And I swear a much more amount of time has been spent mourning his absence,
than the actual amount of time you spent in his presence.
Somehow though it all made sense.
You carried all of it,
all the brokenness;
You carried all of it,
all the bitterness.
And as time goes by his absence started to take more influence.

He made you.
And you lived when he didn't.
(Survivor's guilt?) Because you lived.
You are who you are now, because he doesn't exist.

But do you still wish for the life that was,
with every shooting stars you see when you look up?
Because he isn't, is why you are now,
and I find myself wondering if you would give that up.

-A coffin for two (II)


#RANDOM_THOUGHTS Open / Comment

2022-06-04 14:08:12 I see you.
I see the wrinkles under your eyes.
And call me crazy but I can tell which line was from when.
Which ones you have because he made you smile too much,
and which ones you have gained from the tears you shade since he has been gone.
I see you.
And I see you carry him in every step you take.
Both his presence and his absence.
Mostly his absence though.
As the years go by and the time he isn't here is starting to exceed the time he was
I see the grief you hold getting bigger.
Bigger than the memories you clutch on
and bigger than the things you remember.

So at times I turn to look at you,
to check in and see how you are.
And I notice how you have started to walk slower,
and how your sweet smile has now a little bit of bitter flavor.
I see your slumped shoulders that seem too tired from carrying your broken heart.
And call me crazy but at times, I see the crack inside it getting wider.

I see you.
And I see him then.
I see how he has made you because he was,
but mostly I see what you have become because he is no longer.

I see.
Then I wonder.
What if today was the day the gods decide to listen to your prayer?

If miracles were to happen
and he was given Lazurus' fourth day.

You, who mourn him everyday.

If today they decided to resuscitate him,
and bring him back to life
your soul that carries both him and you, would it survive?

-A coffin for two (I)


#RANDOM_THOUGHTS Open / Comment

2022-05-31 19:53:55 I am the fire breather with burned skin,
I am the barren soul with a heart full of seeds ,
I usually have nothing to show but I am.
I am. We are.

I am Perseus's love at first sight
I am Andromeda in no rush to be saved
Aethiopia, say the name
I am Islam’s refuge
I am the pioneer Christian,
The nine saints' two cent.
ጦቢያ፤ say the name
I am. We are.

I am David’s note,
I am the simile in his poetry,
A metaphor with poor execution:
A land with arthritis.
I am escape, I am freedom,
I am destiny, I am liberation,
I am (the) Rastafari’s homecoming,
Zion, say the name.
I am. We are.

I am democracy,
A sword in a black king’s hand I am bravery,
Can’t you see the Nile in my veins?
I am cornrows without the corn fields.
I am the braids of the demised leader,
I am an artifact in the making,
I am the kidnapped prince,
I am. We are.
(Out of place. Out of character)

***
[Bridge]
Out of place. Out of character.
***
I am although I may not seem.
Living in history as the present burns to ashes,
Sing my songs, remind me of yesterday,
I am nothing but blood at the bottom of the flag,
I am. We are.

I mistake love with pride at times
So, I apologize if you can’t tell which one I am writing about,
But I still am although I may not seem,
Even though I go off script.
I am pride: killer of love.
I am love; I am the prey.
I am. We are.

I am what she made me, and I am what I make of her;
ኢትዮጵያ፤ say her name
Say,

- I am. We are.
@MenAce7 Open / Comment

2022-05-27 15:10:40 【A story of three life times】
(Or at least that's what it feels like.)

(I)
I viewed the world dark.

Well. Not exactly.
I just needed a dramatic start to catch your attention.
Back when I was young, and the hands I valued the most were there to hold me,
I used to close my eyes when we walked
I would choose not to see.

The world = a safe place
My mind = a safe space
I used to embrace darkness
in his embrace.

I closed my eyes
and played with colors I still see,
so when I opened my eyes after a while
the brightness would surprise me.
How I loved to open my eyes and see.

(II)
I viewed the world blurry.

As I got older,
and there were no hands to hold me
I found out I couldn't walk alone
to take all the things life would give me.
I needed help to see.

I remember sitting at the doctor's office
and her casually asking me,
'Do you have fear of light? I could prescribe something darker so it's easier to see.'

I also remember shaking my head instantly,
rejecting the offer
who wants to see an already bright world
a little bit darker?

I guess I had a little bit of innocence left in me then.

How was I to know the lights would betray me?
That they'd be something I can't bear,
that I would, one day, open my eyes and say
'It's too bright in here.'

So I sit again, at the doctor's office
because I can't handle brightness,
I no longer close my eyes either
I no longer embrace darkness.

Years after, with squinched eyes I ask
if there's a mediocre life to all of it
between the bright and the dark?

Is this where the child in me dies completely?
For I'm afraid to close my eyes now,
I'm afraid not to see.
And is this where the hopeful dies?
For I can no longer take brightness,
I can't open my eyes.

Who is this person, I wonder.
And what color would they embrace?

(III)
I view the world through shaded lens.


#RANDOM_THOUGHTS Open / Comment