the problem is, I don’t know that I can be pulled from under this water without help.
without a fire bigger than myself.
the problem is, I fear that I am far too gone to feel the fire’s burn even when it is close. Continue reading One, Two, Taser.
You wonder if like you, some had their body wake involuntarily by 2:50AM, static on the bed. Feeling suffocated, brain quiet yet not, chest grappling for what to worry about, body heavy, hungry, for more. for strength. but also unwilling, unable to do any. Continue reading Dated Entries
It is 1:50AM. You are on your bed. You feel clean, but God you still feel so dirty. Every unintentional bite of your lips to hold the tears back becomes a cruel reminder of the very thing you are trying to forget. And you let the tears fall. You let your body wrack. You let it convulse. You shudder. But you do not feel. Continue reading Is this numbness?
Something tells me that the only thing keeping me in a relationship with this product is because of how financially accessible she is to me.
I want to try something different, and you know, this is the curse of skincare. You will always want more. I was already in too deep when I realised this. Continue reading Skincare: About The Cult, and Why We Joined (Wrapped, 2023)
When you close your eyes, discontent in your reality, and pray to sleep, is it helplessness you feel when you wrestle with your sanity, try to hijack it from the grasps of a you that is stronger than you, and find that you cannot keep it? Continue reading Wonderings.
the gods must be mad at me. but they must have also left me? are gods supposed to do that? Continue reading Short bread on her sick bed.
Did I not let myself be guided by you when you stayed long enough to allow me breathe you in?
Or was it my denial of the reasons I consorted with you? My denial of why I liked to strip you so?
Of why I liked to strip with you?
it is approached with a readiness to embrace an immediate end – one I do not seek, for I would not have tried altogether.
It is wariness with punctures of bravado that lets up when enough quiet has filled the silence.
Continue reading Clear breaks in chaotic runs.
I did not tell him about how his hands that worked like it was looking for home in the insides of my thighs made me feel, nor did I say how pleasurable the feather touches of his fingers as it travelled from my ears to my neck and back made me feel.
today,
we pretend that the relief we find in hazy greys is naught.
not to be identified with us.
we pretend that a different god holds the answers today.
ỌMỌGE FEMII 