Find Me.

If you should ever find yourself lost in this life,

and are unsure of where it was you may have strayed from your path.

Retrace your steps, and catch your breath,

count the many ways that you are blessed.

It may not seem like you have it all figured out,

but it’s a start; there is no need to feel alarmed

Just like some flowers take longer to bloom,

I promise one day you will also discover the beauty of you.

Maybe even in the darker moments,

when you feared nothing would change,

perhaps in the smiling faces of your loved ones,

or in the mentors that have guided you along the way. 

Search through the corridors of your old stomping grounds,

read through dear diaries, or learn a new skill at the library.

Some may find it in churches, and others in nightclubs;

there is no right place to go when you are lost, wanting to be found.

Recount the lessons that you have learned,

that helped shape the individual you are today.

Reflect on the bridges you may have burned,

that changed the geography of your landscape.

Accepting that you may be lost is the hardest part,

nobody likes to admit when they are wrong;

asking for help is just as difficult,

for it is seen as weakness when you are actually quite strong.

Do not compare your scars or trophies with anyone.

Focus on the progress you have made,

your successes, and your failures, too,

as they will help you stay motivated and on track.

 

No two paths are the same—each journey is unique;

there is no need to fret or worry even if you find yourself at a dead-end on a one-way street.

Every obstacle comes equipped with opportunities for you to grow,

just be patient, and listen closely to what your heart wants you to know.

Even in the times you felt the most alone,

the voice, the soul within you, never left your side.

Despite not knowing which way to go,

your spirit always helped you find your way back home.

So, the next time you look around again and do not recognize a thing,

or begin to feel anxious because you are unsure of how to proceed,

remember to open your eyes wide, and retrace your steps.

Catch your breath until you make peace with not always knowing what comes next.

Love in the Time of Cholera

Love, had always been understood by me,
to be as important as the air we breathe.
It was the painter who coloured the leaves,
and changed them from tomato-red to asparagus-green.

Lauded in all lands, it is the subject of much lore,
sometimes there is no story line without a girl worth fighting for.
Although love is celebrated everywhere from Bangkok to Beijing,
it has also resulted in its share of suffering.

If love lifts us up where we belong, and it is all we need,
then peace should not be overlooked in order to satisfy greed.
If love is all the many-splendoured things that I have heard,
it should easily be able to repair the broken spirits around the world.

As a child, love was often portrayed to me as a rapidly beating heart,
or as cartoon pupils that were transfixed, and had been replaced by stars.
Love was in the first kisses that occurred whilst hanging from monkey bars,
and also in the thrill we shared from breaking rules by staying out ‘til after dark.

Now that I am older, and have fallen in love twice,
I know that if it ever returns, that it would never suffice.
It is said that the third time’s a charm, but I refuse to take the risk;
I would rather remain closed off to love, than to ever return to its abyss.

Romance, you see, is not for the weak,
for it will adore you mere moments before it is thrashing your cheek.
It is surely better to never have loved at all, than it is to have loved and lost,
as no amount of time, effort, or money could ever be worth the emotional cost.

Upon your arrival into love, you will always be certain to recognize all of your heart’s desires,
until it dawns on you, once you’re kicked out, that you are swimming in gasoline, and surrounded by raging fire.
Unconditional love is destined to end, just as ‘eternally yours’ begs the question"'til when?"
I would rather remain closed off to love, than let myself be vulnerable again.

Eat. Sleep. Love. Repeat.

Light, the kind that brings the faintest glimmer of hope,

appeared suddenly through a darkened wood;

like an oasis after travelling through the Sahara so parched

with thirst threatening to take my life for good.

Though death’s bony palm lazily gripped my arm,

it was just rough enough for me to hear its confession;

lecherously it whispered in my ear,

that I would soon become its latest possession.

Could it be that the answer I sought and then revered

had finally arrived upon its noble steed as though a God?

My eyes too weak from tears to see whether it was a blessing

or if it was concealing a curse within its threadbare purse.

Much too pained, 

with shallow breaths I take pathetic steps, 

afraid of acquiring evermore heartache as debt, 

which I forbade before embarking on this clueless quest.

Was it true the skies had selected me this day to prize,

unable to accept that my turn had come, just yet.  

Disbelief unshaken, for I had long grown weary of my faith;

the spell love cast had not been broken, I was still carrying its chains.

That speck of white that shone through lit a fire in my chest,

for I had long anticipated an anchor to steady my skittish ship.

From ash to glowing embers, this inferno progressed,

growing wilder with each second, until there was a raging blaze and nothing else.

I shed my shredded armour, matted with layers of hurt,

ripped off the rags that adorned me, 

filthy from being dragged too often through the dirt.

The chaos in my cerebral cortex left me to my own device;

forced me out from my phantom fairy tale

and shoved me into the black of night.

This dopamine daydream that I so desperately tried to keep,

silenced the serotonin soliloquies that so often substituted sleep.

I crashed through my own shadow with superhuman strength,

sprinting towards this saviour that seemed sacrosanct.

The flittering lights that would only flicker,

soon formed a floating orb dancing across my field of vision;

like a love-struck paramour, in boulevards Parisian.  

Free at last; at last, my love had come along,

equipped with all I needed so that I could carry on.

The emptiness within me, was once again so barren,

as hollow as my head all the times before that I had fallen.

I was not only filled but teeming, overflowing with such joy;

for I was freshly dressed in a brand new love and ready to be destroyed.

Race Relations.

Equality is a falsified notion—that is now more clear than ever before
as race relations that were already tense have finally evolved into an all out war.
Black lives matter, they claimed, until nine more lives were lost,
still, we march on, as we shall overcome, regardless of the cost.

Our children are daily forced to pledge allegiance to one nation,
with dishonest promises of liberty and justice that only ever result in aggravation.
There is no justice for people of colour,
for we are denied the same privilege bestowed upon the others.

There are no in or out-groups, no us versus them,
in this system built on lies that needs to be condemned.
The civil rights movement now seems like it was all in vain,
as the blood of our brothers and sisters still stains the streets
and ends up circling the drain.

The emancipation proclamation may as well have remained unsigned,
with every step forward, we have fallen twice as many steps behind.
Today, I am filled with such voracious rage
that brings to mind images of the slaves that built these cities, only to be caged.

Speeches made by remarkable men like Malcolm X and Dr. King
have only been forgotten as the oppressed are still suffering.
I, too, have a dream that one day we will be judged by the content of our character
and not by the colour of our skin;
loved for what is within, and not just based on melanin.

This vicious cycle seems to have no end in sight,
only resulting in unanswered prayers and sleepless, tear-filled nights.
Is it any wonder why the people are angry and afraid,
desperate to take the law into their own hands for promises of reparations that were never paid?

Is there any question as to why protests erupt into full blown riots,
once reality sets in, it is impossible to remain quiet.
This American dream has proven to be a nightmare,
for the land of the free still refuses to play fair.

Laws are made then disobeyed whilst all the rules continue to be broken,
this flawed justice system was designed to keep us enslaved,
ensuring that the truth remains unspoken.
I, for one, will not be silenced until humanity is saved,
as I fight for innocent souls buried prematurely in unmarked graves.

I will not rest until there is only one human race,
instead of the trauma that comes with feeling alienated or displaced.
Education and acceptance are the only keys that can unlock these
hate filled gates of oppression, united we will stand again,
once we choose love and atone for our transgressions.