HELPLESS

The worst feeling ever

One I never felt so deeply

Wishing I could do everything

Unable to do anything at all

Helpless.

Utterly and totally helpless.

Rationally, I know

There is no thing I could do

To change what happened

Yet here I am

Helpless

I wonder if this comes with the job

Having to remain closed off

Having to not feel

Knowing that others I’ll be able to help

While others I just have to watch them slip away

Knowing it was above me

And I know that what’s written will always happen

The course had been set

The timing was up

Yet I still feel

So helpless

I pray to Allah to ease this feeling

I know it was His will

And I know it was meant to happen

And slowly I’ll come to accept it

But this feeling I wish to never feel

So utterly helplessly helpless

S.U.I.C.I.D.E.

Ssshhhhhhhhhh…

Don’t talk about it

Don’t even think about it

The more we ignore it

The more it’ll go away

Soon enough, it’ll all be forgotten

Killing oneself?

That only happens in the West

If you ever feel like doing it

Probably because you don’t believe

You lack faith in God

You have no hope in life

Stop thinking about it at all

It’ll all pass

And you’ll move on

So forget about it

And Ssshhhhhh

Never bring it up again.

The amount of times I’ve been silenced on suicide and mental health astonishes even me at this point in life, never have I seen people be so ignorant and treat a matter as taboo, even when it happens several times in their community as they treat mental illness and suicide. It looks like staying silent on the matter is just increasing the rates by the tens and thousands.

In 2017 , suicide rates in Kenya raised by 58%.

The World Health Organisation (WHO) states that close to 800,000 people commit suicide every year, which means one person every 40 seconds.

Kenya is ranked as 6th in Africa for the highest number of depression cases reported.

For ages 15-29, suicide is the second leading cause of death.

And get this, males are at a higher risk of suicide than females.

Toxic masculinity, where men aren’t allowed to feel, talk about their feelings or express emotions should stop.

We have big issues to address in our community, and instead of treating it like a serious matter which needs attention, we push it aside, sweep it under the carpet and hope we never have to ever talk about it.

Suicide is not a single thought, of I want to die.

It’s walking up in the morning wishing you had died in your sleep.

It’s feeling no will to continue living, barely surviving

It’s wishing you never have to explain, why you always tired and down

Wishing you’d just fade away and no one would notice

It’s trying to escape the suffocation

The drowning, the exhaustion

It’s thinking you don’t have anything to live for

No one cares

No one ever did

No one will ever do

It’s not wanting to cause pain

Not wanting to be a burden

It’s feeling left out

Like no one can understand

They never do

They never will

It’s feeling too much

Then nothing at all

Craving the lightness of just being a soul

It’s the depression talking

The misery setting in

And anxiety rooted within

It’s the dark thoughts clouding all good

That even when you try to remember that there is hope

It disappears

Cause in the end we all are alone.

That is what feeling suicidal is to me

That even when you want to hope

It runs fast leaving coldness

It’s losing one’s self to

Numbness

Darkness

Drowning

Cutting

Jumping

Hanging

Swallowing

Hopelessness

one small act and it’ll all fade away

No more pain

No more dismay

No hurting anymore.

But see, all this is a LIE. PEOPLE CARE.

Even when we think that it’ll all end with us, it doesn’t.

We still have mountains to climb

Sunsets to watch

Drinks to enjoy

Rains to dance in

Oceans to explore

Cultures to experience

We are yet to love and be loved

To care and be cared for

And it all begins with me

And you

You mean the world to someone else

You never are alone

Stop with the depreciating jokes

Every morning

Tell yourself

You are strong

You can make it

You can make it

You can make it

Then strive for it

Strive for a better day

Strive for a real smile

One day at a time

Just one more day at a time

Smell the fresh earthy smell after rain

The warm coffee scent

The rich chocolate taste

The feeling of the first morning ray

The sound of the chirping birds

You never are alone

Seek help

Lean on others to support you

To family and friends dealing with people struggling with mental illnesses and suicidal thoughts, talk about it, don’t shun them away, and later wonder why they never said anything, why you never noticed and that you were always there. If you can’t handle it, ask a professional to intervene.

Be a good listener, listen well.

Offer emotional support.

Encourage them to seek help.

Remind them that the sun will rise again.

HER STORY

 

SENSITIVE TOPICS AHEAD!

 

I write this to share a story I hid deep inside, a story I fear being read, a story I wish no one ever experiences, but sadly many do.

I grew up surrounded by men, an only girl in a family of seven, I loved and trusted all my brothers, for I knew safety was home. safety was in the confines of our room, our room, one I shared with my 3 brothers. Growing up, money was tight but still life was good, we went to good schools, slept with our tummies full and walked around well dressed. I remember family road trips to the rural,  food made from mud and of course, family. Family made everything better.

One trip was different though, coming back we had a new guest to add, a cousin who wanted to study in the city, tired of the local run down college back home. A Harambee was done, and he was sent away to live with us. I was happy, gained another brother, 7-year-old me couldn’t stop smiling, another family member, another blessing.

“I know it’s hard adjusting to live with an extra person in a crowded room kids, but remember a guest is a blessing, I don’t want to hear any complains, understood?”

We all understood, no body wants to embarrass Mummy, so we all promised to be on our best behaviour.

Days passed, and we all got along so well that when asked, 7-year-old me had 5 brothers now, 5 brothers to play with, to eat with and to go home to, where home was safe, safe was our home.

A community pool opened up in our neighbourhood, one that was affordable to us, provided we saved up a week of our allowances, a measly Ksh 50 per head, so we did. And I couldn’t have been more excited, even though the only waters I knew were the rushing stream near Grandma’s house in the village and the big lake, where only big boys could swim because of the sharks and crocodiles.I’d watched Jaws with my brothers, there was no way I would risk swimming in shark and crocodile infested waters, I heard even an anaconda was spotted swimming one day! Finally I would know what it was like to swim. I couldn’t even sleep the day before.

Clad in my first ever mtush Disney one-piece,I was the happiest 7-year-old girl in the pool, it even had Bella and Cinderella! I stayed in the kiddie side of the pool, splashing water and holding the rail and kicking my legs into the water, enjoying with all the kids my age, and occasionally hitching a ride on the backs of my brothers’ backs, while others pretended to be sharks, it would have been the best day of my childhood, if the story ended there. The reason I probably remember everything in detail was because of the events that occurred after it.

My new ‘brother’ wanted to carry me around in the water, so I hopped excitedly, hoping for another games of Jaws and Crocodiles, only he was the monster after all. Creeping hands into my beautiful Disney one-piece, one that I found and burned a couple of years ago.

“SSSSShhhhh, don’t make a noise, I promise you’ll enjoy it, don’t let anyone see”

I didn’t enjoy it, I was confused and angry and scared, I was terrified. I didn’t know what was going on and I couldn’t tell anyone, not even Mummy, because she said

“NO COMPLAINS. BE ON YOUR BEST BEHAVIOUR”

That was the first time it happened, in a public pool, in front of my parents and 4 siblings.

Days later, it happened again.

Being the youngest and in Class One, school always ended early for me, I loved it because I had more time to read and play. I had a very healthy books collection because whenever I did something good, I was always rewarded with a new book, it wasn’t new in age, but it was a new story to read. I knew all about the Cunning Fox, the Quick Hare, the Wise Owl and the Brave Lion.

I had left school early, as always and I was excited to be home. I had recently passed my Mid Term examinations and I already had 3 books waiting for me at home. If I had realized earlier than it was home, I would have willingly stayed bored at school till 5 waiting for my brothers than go back home.

It cornered me in a room, alone and scared, still in my uniform where I was gagged and shoved on the floor. I tried fighting but it twisted my arms, successfully dislocating a shoulder, I think I passed out several times where I woke up in pain, in bed, face free of the tears I had wept, begging it to stop hurting me, begging it to stop, crying for it to leave me alone. It said it would kill me if I ever said anything, it was easy to squeeze my throat, it showed me by doing it. Or smothering me with a pillow, it was easy to do it too.

I walked around with a dislocated shoulder until it was too painful for me to handle, I showed Mommy and told her I had fallen in school playing at the monkey bars. It said no one would believe me, even if they did ask me, what happened, how was I to know what was going on? How would I say it? Every one was blind to it, and they loved it so much. When it realized, it had hurt my shoulder bad enough that I had to go to the hospital, it started being “nice and sweet.”

For 3 years, until it moved away to start a life, it bribed me with sweets and soda, promising never to hurt me again, never again. It was sweet to me for a long time, long enough for me to nearly forget.

But it happened again, again and again.

For 3 years until it moved away after finishing college.

I had stopped talking as much, no one noticed.

I didn’t want to leave the house as much, no one noticed.

I grew terrified of my own father and brothers, no one noticed.

It said I deserved it anyways.

I was JUST  7 YEARS OLD!!!!!!!

I took an oath to hate men, they were monsters, I had lived  and slept in the same room as one.

The room that was safe, haunted me in my nightmares.

I had night terrors, no one noticed.

I woke up in tears, whimpering and crying no one noticed.

I’ve never spoken out loud about IT, how could I?

I see it every holiday when I go to Grandmas

I see its wife

I see its daughters

I know Mum and Dad love it so much.

They call it son.

So how could they believe me?

No one would

They never noticed anything, why would they now?

The rage I feel for IT is so consuming so powerful

I wish I could burn it to ashes with my eyes

I shall never forget it

Never forgive it

The monster that I lived with

I can’t say who I am, or who IT is,

I never was one to cause chaos, I wonder if anyone would believe me, if they did, what would happen to it? Will they risk breaking up not one but two families based on something they never knew about?

I’ve seen around and I’ve heard the excuses.

“It’s too late”

“You should have spoken earlier”

“Why did you stay silent”

“We can’t do anything”

Sorry, I was scared for my life

I’m sorry I lived in fear

The statute’s expired while I drowned in nightmares

Since I can’t sue you here

I leave with my scars and cries

See you in the Court Above.

I still live with nightmares, I’ve seen therapists, counsellors and life coaches, it does get better, but when?

Every time a story like mine comes up in the news, I wake up terrified of my own shadow.

Every time I see the backlash and stigma in this topic, I am relieved I never shared mine, then angry, so angry and furious that our uneducated and uncivilized society would blame the victim, again and again.

I contemplated killing myself when I was ten, ten year olds SHOULDN’T EVEN THINK about killing themselves, but I did, I have tried several times, but I now know that it wasn’t my fault, I DESERVE TO LIVE, I DESERVE TO BE HAPPY.

Slow but steady, I have rough nights where I wish I could just off myself, I hate being touched by anybody at all times, I have panic attacks randomly and I am on depression medication. I have never been in a relationship, simply because I still do NOT trust easily, I understand that not all men are monsters, but I am yet to believe it myself. It took me years to accept love from and trust the male figures in my lives, my father and brothers, SEVERAL YEARS.

I AM A SURVIVOR!

I tell my story, not to gather any pity, but to remind others and myself, I have lived this far, reached this far, and hopefully will one day reach where I want to be.

“WhAt WeRe YoU WeArInG?”

A one piece long-sleeved Disney swim suit.

“YoU sHoUlDn’T hAvE wOrN tHaT!”

I was 7, and I was swimming.

“YoU InStIgAtEd It!”

I was  SEVEN YEARS OLD!

“PrObAbLy DoN’t FeAr God?”

I was raised in a Religious household, Religious God-fearing Household.

“WhY dIdN’t YoU SaY aNyThInG?”

I was terrified for my life, I was tied, gagged, smothered by a pillow, choked and it dislocated my shoulder.

“YoU cOuLd HavE sToPpeD IT!”

HOWWW????? I WAS SEVEN! HE WAS OLDER! STRONGER! MORE POWERFUL!

“ThReE YeArS? YoU oBvIoUsLy LiKeD iT iF iT hApPeNeD fOr ThAt LoNG!”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Any more ignorant and stupid idiotic questions?

 

All those who blame sexual abuse victims are as bad as the abusers themselves, we fail to provide a proper supporting society, and continue to stigmatize and terrify the survivors more.

UNTIL WHEN WILL PEOPLE SIMPLY UNDERSTAND THAT NO IS NO!

Child molesters and sexual abusers might be the scum of the earth.

We live in a terrifying world where a Sexual harassed or abused victims called a liar, even when there is proof, a coward for not stepping up sooner, a

Rape culture trivializes the experience of women while at the same time blaming us for what we’ve experienced. It perpetrates myths about why men rape and simultaneously underplays and exaggerates its impact on victims and survivors.

1 in 3 women has experienced sexual harassment.

Every 5 minutes, someone somewhere is being raped.

To every survivor reading this.

You are strong,

You are beautiful,

It was NOT your fault,

It never was, never will be.

I am sorry for society, its backward thinking and stupidity.

YOU ARE NEVER ALONE!

#METOO

 

 

*BASED ON A TRUE STORY, SOME DETAILS HAVE BEEN EDITED TO PROTECT THE SURVIVOR. 

 

ORGANIZATIONS THAT CAN HELP:

Childline Kenya : www.childlinekenya.co.ke

Wangu Kanja Foundation :  www.wangukanjafoundation.org

Gender Violence Recovery Centre (GVRC- Kenya):  www.gvrc.or.ke

Centre for Assault Recovery of Eldoret (CAR-E): +254 532033471, +254 53 2061005

Gender-based Violence Recovery Centre- Coast Province General Hospital ; 

Helpline: 254 20 2179519 / 2179521
Airtel 0734 466 466 , Safaricom 0722 208 652

 

Divinity FGM Rescue Centre: http://divinityfoundation.com/

CARA Girls Rescue Centre: https://caraprojects.com/

Women’s Rights Awareness Programme (WRAP): http://preventgbvafrica.org/member/womens-rights-awareness-programme-wrap-2/

 

 

Stay Home Little Girl!

Stay home little Girl

The world is big and bad

You wouldn’t survive it at all

Stay at home,

Don’t come out

Lock your doors

Don’t open them for none

Stay home

You need to be safe

Stay home

If you don’t want to be raped

Or abused

Or even killed right on the streets

But be wary

Of those you stay at home with

For sometimes betrayal comes from deep within.

So stay at home

But even so,

Don’t stay at home alone

With a man you don’t trust

But those that stab you in the end

Are those who’ve always had your back.

I’m not sure, now

Should you stay at home?

Risk your life?

Or go outside?

And risk your life?

When you go out,

Cover all

Don’t reveal

Not too short

You’ll be asking for it

Not too tight

How dare you!

Not too sleeveless

Not too showing

Not too beautiful

Are you serious right now?

Conceal

But even in jalabiyahs,

Do girls get raped too

So walk fast

But don’t run

You know what?

Maybe just run home

So you, little girl

Can stay safe

Be pretty,

But not too much

Don’t say you are pretty

Cause no one likes a vain princess

Be healthy, eat well

Be thin

Don’t eat too much

You need to fit in

Watch your surroundings well

Don’t draw attention to yourself

Hide your intelligence

Don’t reveal your thoughts

Let your speech be silent

No one wants a loudmouthed wife.

Do as your told

Don’t ask for your basic human rights

Listen to me little girl

Why should you always disobey?

Stay at home

Learn to cook and clean

To sew and stitch,

Maybe even learn to knit

Stay at home,

For that’s where you belong.

Not in a man’s world

Where at school

You fall prey to lewd glances from all,

Not in the roads,

Where you are vulnerable to all, not a thief, not a rapist, not a murderer

Not at home,

Where your own blood can turn against you

So stay in my heart little girl

I’ll protect you

I’ll give you my cavalry

Confidence and courage

I’ll give you an army

Women just like you

I’ll give you weaponry

Hope and dreams

I’ll teach you skills

To create a name for yourself

I’ll give you everything

So be careful when you leave home

Preserve your modesty

Know your worth

Have your goals

Speak

Let your voice be heard

Believe you can achieve

Let not any man bring you down

You are more than just your gender

I’m standing right beside you

Little girl,

Go forth and face the world.

You are pretty perfect,

Just the way you are.

Don’t change for the world

Go out and change the world.

 

Forgiving Humanity

She’s asked

Why are your thoughts sad

Why do your dreams sound broken

Why does your heart seem crushed

Do you not believe

In humanity anymore

What about its redemption

Can we earn not forgiveness

From our never-ending repentance

Our regrets. Our confessions.

What should we do?

To right our wrongs

To earn our vindication

Can we not earn back your trust?

Pretty little girl,

Forgive humanity

For turning a blind eye

We’ll turn over new leaves

Never again, will we concede

To evil, and what it yields

Excuse our misgivings

Pardon our shortcomings

Forgive us,

So we may learn to forgive ourselves

There still is hope

For not all of us cower in fear

We’ll stand up

Behind you, Right next to you

We’ll be brave

We’ll fight the silence

We’ll preach to the masses

Behind #metoo

We all shall be right there, with you.

 

 

NEW BEGINNINGS

What better way to end the Mental health awareness month, than a promise and a pledge to myself.

A promise I intend to honor and a pledge I vow to keep.

I was asked my opinion on self harm once, why do people do it? Why do people get addicted and does it ever stop? Self harm, is an addiction, because pain is addictive. Why do people do it? In my opinion, it’s the pain you can control and one you can see. It’s a method to cope, a very terrible one. Is it addictive? Yes, it is. Very much so. It usually starts as an impulse, a small jolt to keep one in check, for some, to remind them that they still feel, that they still are alive, an impulsive decision at a moment of weakness. Slowly, one depends on it, as a distraction from any emotional pain, physical pain heals faster, but emotional ones fester and poison, if not treated. Then it becomes an addiction, an obsession, a false sense of control.

It sickens me to the depth of my heart to see Media romanticizing it, making it feel cool or Writers making it feel almost as normal as breathing. It is not. Believe me, self harm brings in guilt and shame, and having to keep it a secret is worse. The relief is short-lived, before you have to deal with whatever is troubling you. Instead of solving any problem, you just let it be bottled up inside, hiding it in the closet and sweeping every problem under the rug. It only takes sometime before it bursts, opens and blows up in your face.

For someone affected, they do not wish for that upon anybody. The guilt of asking your loved one to stop an addiction, you know the harm of it all to well. The hopelessness when something goes wrong, and it’s not in your hands anymore. The despair, when you see someone you love go down the path, you struggle to leave. It’s not worth it.

It’s not the way to do it, get help and confide in someone, it gets better. Life does get better. Asking for help is  hard, I know, trust me. Leaning on someone, letting one take care of you for once, or letting someone in. It’s opening the doors to you chamber of secrets, everything dark and ugly, sometimes and expecting them to love you the same and see you the same. Trust, giving someone the power to hurt you but believing in them to not to.

Talk to someone you trust, let them in and believe in yourself.

 

Even in the dark

When there seems to be no light

And the weight of the world 

Burdens your shoulders

And a little voice 

Says you can never do it

Exclaim with power and conviction

“I can and I will

For with every sunset, ends a bad day

But every sunrise, begins a new day”

You can and you will

Life does get better

Trust and believe in yourself

Just like I do in you

I may not know you

But I understand the struggle you go through

I may not know your full battle, 

Or see all your wounds

But in the end

I am human like you too

Tell me so I can help

Speak out and I shall listen

Beyond what the eye sees

Is a soul I am in love with

For all the scars and struggles

A beautiful soul

That I can’t help but be in awe of

Life does get better.

This promise to myself, is that I shall try my very best to not succumb to the little whisper.

I am stronger than that, braver than that and wiser.

I promise not to judge by the scars on somebody’s arms, not by the burns on your feet, not by the wounds on your fists, or the bandage on your head. Not by anything at all, I promise I will try to listen, to look at you and love you, maybe even love you more.

Often, we ignore others’ cries for help because we are too blinded by our own struggles. We often lose so many to fend on their own, we let too many people down, we failed so many people, but now is a good place to start. Right here and right now, pledge to be a source of comfort and solace, to lend an ear and to see beyond the walls and masks, to see for who they really are and still love the same.

And for those still struggling, life gets better.

 

HOME SICK

I started feeling lonely recently, withdrawn from human contact, keeping socialization to a minimum, maintaining conversation only when necessary, doing everything I can not to let anybody come close, including being flippantly rude, ignoring calls and messages. I even started losing topics of conversations, with my best friend, my mother.

Other than the weather, the times and how I feel adapted to a new place, here, I feel trapped, I feel suffocated, and I don’t want to feel this way. Anxious, scared and terrified.

And being away from home hits hard. Some days everything irritates me. From the weather to the little things like misplacing an item. Small inconveniences make me want to curl up in a ball and cry.  And being someone scared of putting my emotions out there, I’d rather stay in and be hush about it. When you’ve been labelled a cry baby, dramatic and attention seeking from a young age, letting others in is braver than most would like to admit. Admitting it makes one vulnerable, and human, but vulnerable. I wouldn’t want any one to worry about me, especially my parents and I definitely don’t want fake pity from someone who will pretend to understand only to gossip about it. I might sound bitter, but trust comes at a price if all you’ve seen and mostly experienced is being at the receiving end of broken trust.

When I left my home for a new country, barely a week after my Uncle passed, then a little later, my little baby girl and then my cousin-brother who I grew up with, just days after his birthday. I’ve never regretted being here and choosing to follow my heart more than I did in those days. And there was no one here, I could turn to, not because I don’t trust friends I’ve made here, but scared of what letting people in might bring. I made a mistake of letting one loss slip out, and someone joked about how I can always find a ‘replacement’ for a brother I love and lost. So far, this has been the hardest to deal with.

I’ve had happy times, many a  times. Sleepovers, movie nights, trying new restaurants, exploring new places and meeting new people. All adventures that made me feel happy and excited that I agreed to leave and travel and meet new people. and follow my dream. I wish that I was more open to more adventures, but it’s another issue if you have social anxiety and would rather 100% stay in than go out. Living in fear of being judged, by being judgmental myself. I fear no one would understand, that I judge them where they stand as I myself fear the same for myself. I do try to push out of my limits and comfort zones, maybe not as hard as I can, but as long as I am comfortable.

And I feel more better as I type this out, lighter, a little bit scared, but better nonetheless. It was a big change and for a while, I changed myself in hopes that I would fit in, but it never happened. And it took me a while to see reason and realize that I was not true to myself and my principles. It’s better to be myself and face the world, than change and face the same issues, because no matter how hard I push myself to try to be someone else, the world still runs the same course, and that is not something I can change.

To try to deal with it, I had a routine I followed, pamper days in the safety of the room I live in, cooking for myself, reading and getting lost in words, and movies and series and shopping and walks alone. Some activities work, others remind me that I’m alone here. Then I expanded my routine, added more time for activities I like that made me feel better. Listening to Qur’aan more, reading it more and trying to understand it better, watching YouTube channels that I like and reading and writing more. I’m still finding new ways to deal with it.

Everyone deals with it differently. Any big change in your life and how do you deal with it? How do you deal with homesickness?

 

 

 

 

 

 

TILL I LOVE ME

Shallow standards of beauty are what I grew up seeing.

Perfect height, weight and assets to complement.

So anything other than that was not beautiful.

It simply could not be beautiful.

I always wondered about it.

For I see beauty in a smile,

Beauty in tears,

Beauty in pain

And beauty in a storm.

I am astonished by strength,

Intrigued by bravery

And inspired by courage.

I see beauty in a stroke of a painter’s brush,

In a paragraph of a writer’s book,

And in the words of a poet.

I see beauty in almost everything I encounter.

What I did not see, was beauty in me.

I fell in love with the passionate souls that choose to believe in their ability to create art.

I wonder what would someone find beautiful?

Plain brown eyes. Dull skin and messy hair?

I look at the mirror every day and wonder how anyone would think that I was beautiful.

Not only in my appearance, but for who I am too.

Would someone like me when I ramble on?

Would anyone see beauty in what i write?

Would anyone see the pain in my words and choose to stay?

Is there beauty in who I am?

I wish I had an answer. I don’t.

And even if somebody said yes, I probably would not believe it.

Not right now.

Not until I believe in myself.

Until I love me.

I am learning, to love myself for everything I am and what I do.

For my weird habits and silly rambles.

For who I am.

And also, for how I look.

Until I love me. I shall continue searching for these answers.

Or maybe once I know. I wouldn’t need any answers.

When I find one thing I like,

I’d find a thousand more to hate

Little things to always pick on.

For I will know the truth.

Until I forgive myself

For all that I have done

For all the mistakes I wronged myself

For the pain I put myself through.

Maybe then I’d learn to forgive others too.

I do not see this at all.

I justify all the wrongs I have faced with what I see in the mirror.

I look at the reflection and I don’t see someone who deserves to be happy.

I see broken pieces

I see shards

I see secrets

I see lies and sins

How can someone live with a person like this?

Till then, when I learn to love me all

All the broken pieces and cracks

Then, I wait for.

I do sometimes,

Like the happiness behind a smile

When I smile and my reflection smiles back.

For then I know, I can still be happy.

The nights I fear most,

Is those I feel nothing

Never ending numbness

No hate

No love

No pain

No hurt

Those I fear.

When I force myself to feel.

Worry not,

I have not despaired

For the Believers, there is no despair

I hope the day comes soon

When I love picking up a pen and writing again

When I feel the warmth of a loving gaze

When I smile from my heart

And let it show on my face

When I can say

With assuringly

And truly

I love me

For my self

For my being

For who I am

For what I do

For what I’ve been through

And for all that I’m about to be.

Till I love me

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