There’s nothing aesthetic about mental illnesses. The kings and queens of culture are too quick to come with phrases like “ suicidal people are angels wanting to go home” “Your pain makes you beautiful” Then you find questions like: “Are you feeling sad sometimes” “Are you nervous” “Are you no longer interested in some activities” […]Read More There’s nothing aesthetic about mental illnesses.
Freedom: the state of being able to act as one wants. Are you drowning in that bed that always pulls you when you want to get productive. Are you afraid of going outside because you are so comfortable within those four walls? are you taking away your own freedom? Or is that what you call […]Read More Freedom
Come see how I have changed. Come see the woman I have turned into. Come home, it’s different this time. The table is filled with all the tangibles of flaws that I have changed into flowers. Come home, you can start a garden now. Come see about me, this means we can blossom together. Come […]Read More Come see about me- An ode to a past lover.
Hey guys. Here is a poem again from one of my best writers “Stripped Versions”. Hope you enjoy. If you want to read more please click on this link to access his book. https://www.docdroid.net/arH6zjk/heartbreakon27th.pdf Depression is real. It’s not a condition, it’s not being bewitched, it’s not a mood. It’s a disease, One that compels […]Read More It’s real. (Stripped Versions)
So I wrote this poem last year during my senior high school year. It’s a poem written in my home language (Setswana) a beautiful language. This poem I’ve always wanted to write in some small card and give to my granny with flowers. But I never really had the guts to do so because I […]Read More A poem for granny.
At the age of 6 I moved into my first foster home, but is it really one when your mom is there with you too? At the age of 10, I moved into my second foster home. But is it really a home when you feel imprisoned by your thoughts? At the age of 14, […]Read More At the age…