I’m indeed bereaved to house this woman in my soul and clothe her in my unanimous body. Grits of pain and misconceptions.
I have a room filled with surprises and ugly monopolies. Another, with truths I’d never tell and lies I’ll take till I’m two days away from my death day.
Everyday I pray for each child to grow up the right way, and learn with love, the greatest lessons of life. – Victoria Olajide.
As I write this post I laugh at myself. It is really so funny. I have created more than 80 posts on this website!
This space I created for rants, batter and all things chaos, has evolved into a creative platform. A space where writers can come to as a resource and encouragement, my personal online portfolio, the origin of a wonderful community.
My area description:
I place my one liter water bottle to my left, Bible to my right, phone to my thigh or table and laptop to my fingers.
Then I think, how do I enter this whirlwind?
The wind might be rusty or calm, but still I’m inside. Almost blinded by the rush of winds…
Hey guys! So I’ve been writing an Chapbook. Called Indigo girl. And there is this particular poem; decomposed. I’d love if you could read it and tell me how you feel about it. You can drop something kind in the comments section.
Then you need a revival
You need a remembrance of your beautiful spirit.
You need the cold air, you need the humbling Spirit.
You need a cup of wisdom and a breathe of salinity.
