feslussila - Tumblr blog

[feslussila]

I am in the wispy tumultuous sea,rocking on this raspy wooden boat,floating miles and miles away from the shore.Alone, back propped against the propeller,staring at the starry night,listening to the waves rock back and forth.

I am floating away, with no particular destination in mind.But to be in the wispy territorial sea, in my rusty creaky boat, gives me freedom that an eagle wouldn't fathom.The moonlight dances on the rippling tide,in this solitude, my soul is open wide.No anchors to hold me, no chains to bind,just the whispers of the wind, gentle and kind.

The salt-kissed breeze upon my face,a silent witness to this boundless space.The horizon stretches, a canvas so vast,in this moment, I've found peace at last.

[feslussila]

Lord, there's something so inherently broken in me. I try to fix it, plaster, patch, and stitch it. The silky sky ,I strive to reach it ,but my left wing no longer picks up wind under it, so I try to clip it.I pluck the feathers as I flutter to my fall, wondering if the ground beneath could ever hold a misfit. There's a broken record in my room,it distorts the music,it scratches,groans and creaks in a high pitched rhythm. There's a poem in my heart that I can't seem to finish,the rhyme escapes my grip and I drift in search of syllables that would relieve me. Lord, there's something so inherently broken within me,even though I try ,O' you know I try ,I just can't seem to find the right mind or the right time to fix it.

[feslussila]

Last night ,I attended my own funeral.Cloaked in a jet-black suit, I drifted through the cemetery at the witching hour, the dark shroud of night embracing me.As if summoned by the weight of my journey,storm clouds gathered, ominous and foreboding.Lightening cracked and cut across the menacing sky as thunder let out a terrifying cry. As I approached the grave, a lone figure stood vigil, head bowed, hands clasped in mournful prayer. Raindrops, icy and deliberate, began their descent, mingling with the tears starting to trace a path down my cheek.

"Since you left," the solitary figure murmured, "I have not been the same, but your death was a necessary gain."

I moved closer, each step heavy with the gravity of recognition. The figure lifted his gaze, and I found myself staring into my own eyes—yet these were not my eyes. They belonged to a reborn self, a phoenix emerging from the ashes of my former existence.

"You were my chrysalis," he spoke, his voice a sonorous echo, "your demise, the crucible of my rebirth. It was your suffering that tempered my spirit, your doubts that honed my clarity."I nodded, understanding the profound truth in his words. "To forge this new existence, I had to surrender you, to bid farewell to the ghosts of my limitations. Your death heralded the dawn of my boundless potential."

The rain fell harder, a purifying torrent, washing away the vestiges of the past. Together, my new self and I turned from the grave, leaving behind the sepulcher of what once was. As we walked away, the storm began to abate, and the first light of a new dawn broke through the clouds, illuminating a path of infinite possibility.

[feslussila]

Once again,I am letting my pen bleed. Before my veins burst and the blood rushing through my arteries combust into a razing flame,I'll let this pen bleed.I am letting the ink splash,I am blotting the pages of my heart with the sticky residue of memories past.I am emptying my thoughts on the flipping pages of time. I am setting precedents for my bloodline, line by anguishing line. With each stroke, I etch my soul's design. I pour out the sorrows that words confine, and hope that healing follows this confessional shrine. Once again, I am letting my pen bleed. As I write, my spirit finds release, and in these lines, I seek my peace.

[feslussila]

If you can read this then you're within range. Trespassers will be shot, regardless of age.This heart is locked inside a steel cage,in the backyard of the house where shadows wage. 'Closed for renovation',the hanging sign by the gate says,creaking when the wind sways, concealing secrets from the prying gaze.

Trespassers will be shot,beware of the raging heart.Betrayal begets pain and behind the curtains of dismay lurks a sorrow that will never depart. Tired of getting hurt I stand guard at the gates of my heart,the dragon breath of my double barreled shotgun ready to play it's part.In a tale where every step is fraught, where it's best never to get caught. Beware the warnings and heed them not, for this is sacred ground, and trespassers will be shot.

[feslussila]

I came across a post recently. It went something like 'I miss you, but I’d cut off my hands before I ever reach out to you again'

Before I met you I was single and determined to rebuild my life. I threw myself into self-improvement, focusing on my financial stability, spiritual growth, emotional well-being, and physical health. I worked tirelessly, creating a disciplined and fulfilling routine that centered on becoming the best version of myself.

Then you came along, and I let you in. Our time together was filled with beautiful moments and cherished memories, but slowly, I lost sight of myself. My focus waned, my discipline crumbled, and I made reckless financial decisions that I’m still recovering from. The relationship that once brought joy eventually became a source of my undoing.

Earlier this year, we parted ways. Since then, I’ve often found myself missing you and contemplating reaching out. But every time, I remind myself of the chaos that ensued, the person I became, and how far I strayed from my path.

Now, I’m back on my journey of self-recovery, working hard to regain the focus and discipline I once had. I’m learning from my mistakes and striving to rebuild the life I want, brick by brick.

So, yes, I miss you. But I’d cut off my hands before I reach out again because I know that the best path for me is the one I walk alone, rediscovering and refining who I am without you.

[feslussila]

Why must I betray you,O' my heart? Giving you away so callously,every now and then.Halting your rhythm for nothing but a fleeting flailing feeling.How much more can you withstand,O' my heart? Before your ventricles cave inside,and the blood you pump splurges the walls of my ribcage painting it with crimson colours of regret.Each excruciating beat is a reminder of the price of my recklessness, a pulse of pain that echoes through my veins. How long before the burden I place upon you becomes too great, before the delicate dance of life ceases under the weight of my indiscretions? Forgive me O' my heart for the suffering I have inflicted upon you, and for giving you away so callously again.

[feslussila]

For you ,the door is always open. I don’t know if it is for me too, and I’m too afraid to check. Come back after months and say you are wondering how I am fairing. That you just wanted to check in. I’ll try my best to sound nonchalant, maybe even feign annoyance. But I’ll be delighted, I promise. Lie about something you wanted to ask, I’ll over explain. Pretend I’m the only one you could’ve come to, I’ll pretend I don’t know it’s a lie. I promise, the door is always open. For you, only for you.

[feslussila]

The chickens had finally come home to roost,and I was just sitting duck.

[feslussila]

Why are you cast down ,O my soul ?

Why are you disquieted within me ?

[feslussila]

My heart revolts so violently and in anguish in its cage, threatening to break out ,to explode in rage. It skips two, three beats , palpitates and contracts in excruciatingly brutal pain. Years of many dreadful days,the horrors of precarious and sleepless nights. The trenches that battered my sorrowful solitary soul,paths that bruised my swift tireless feet. My heart bleeds in its cage ,blood filling my lungs,and an icy sweat dripping down my face. I am a battered man,defeated,just a shred of the warrior I used to be. I sit here and bleed and bleed and bleed,I watch as the drops fill and feed the silt from which I came and into which I must soon return.

[feslussila]

How do I tell you where it hurts without choking on my own blood?

[feslussila]

i hope my absence gives you the peace my love never could

- dee

[feslussila]

MY FIELD OF YASMINS

You should meet her-Adey.

You should see how gracefully she glides over the surface, as if taking care not to step on the petals in a field of Yasmins.

You should see her smile, the way the corners of her lips fade into her cheeks and her eyes squint just the slightest bit.

The moon embraces the sun in an eclipse and my heart melts at her sight,like Halwa in the mouth at the end of a nice meal.

You should hear her speak,the cadence of her voice ,just enough to stir passion in the hearts of angels.

She says my name and I wish no other man will ever share the sensation it evokes in me.

She's my technicolor Dream,she's the blazing twin flame setting my heart on fire ,and I have fallen.

Oh I have fallen deep in an entrancing sleep and I lay here day dreaming,in my field of Yasmins.

[feslussila]

The party has quieted down,couples are starting to ooze out of the premises ,elbows locked, slightly intoxicated by strong wine,the euphoria of successful deals and promises of a better tomorrow.It feels like the curtains are finally coming down at the end of an orchestra,but the spotlight shines brightly in my mind on one person,and the show is just getting started.I say rushed goodbyes and strut my way around the hallway,leaving the melancholy of forced interactions behind as I approach the balcony.

Right there,under the blue florescent moonlight stands the object of my desires.Her back is turned towards me,and she is bent over slightly at the balcony,watching the stream of people walking out down below.

"You should never make a lady wait Mr. Collins.Don't you know that? ",She says ,adjusting her posture just as I lean onto the steel rails.

"I waited a lifetime for you",I respond "I believe you can wait for ten minutes ".I think I see her smile faintly .She turns and puts a grape in my mouth.So that's what it was for.

"You should really know when to shut up".

A woman with class and sass. O' Wretched man that I am ,who shall deliver me from myself?

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"You know better than anyone never to mix pleasure with business Mr.Collins",she subtly protests ,her melodious well modulated voice resonating under the clink of wine glasses and the soft chatter of corporate moguls.She turns ever so slightly,almost without moving her body and gently tugs at a grape from a grey silver platter.Her movement is amazingly balletic, carefully calculated,calm and lateral,almost like a sniper in the snow adjusting his angle to match the recoil of a Dragunov rifle.

"Business is all about risks ma'am",I retort but my voice cracks under the pressure."Maybe if you let me close this deal with Mr.Ordell then you can teach me all you know about pleasure ".Her lower lip twitches slightly,betraying her urge.

"Fine,meet me by the balcony where our personalities collide when you are done. And don't keep me waiting".She walks off briskly,her long deceptively delicate leg parting the slit of her silk dress ever so sharply. I can't help but marvel at how God bestowed such immaculate grace on a mere mortal. She leaves behind a whiff of exotic floral scent that would make a garden of Yasmins pungent in comparison.Solidly confident in her aura, her gait is as measured as a toddler's first steps as she vanishes into the crowd of tuxedos and the soft cadence of Jazz Music.

"You will be the death of me Kaisha". I curse under my breath,and as if on cue,the band starts to play Chet Baker's classic 'I fall in love too easily'.

[feslussila]

...we quickly initiate a counseling session with the aim of offering psychological first aid to the child.

Sitting across Ofuhu in the silent room I quickly descend into the dystopian world of the child.Having witnessed the father slaughter his mother in cold blood on one bleak night of perilous passions and fatal attraction,his life has never been the same.The voices in his head have never quieted down.I am moved by the callousness in which he narrates these events.When I ask him about forgiveness,he tells me a skewd version where his father had handed him a gun and begged him to pull the trigger .Clutching the cold steel in his sweaty palms,Ofuho had imagined putting a bullet through his tormenters tulmutous heart but stopped at the overwhelming sense of fear that engulfed his soul.His life changed forever.Now hunted for blood revenge by his mother's seething relatives,they had fled from the homestead into the cold night of uncertainty,only shivering at the stark reality glaring at him once they arrived at the camp.

"Once in the camp," Ofuho Narrates "My father once beat my step mother into a pulp for stealing a duck with which she used to obtain money for the intoxicating concoctions she used to self soothe her trauma"

Ofuho's father was arrested and jailed in the dreaded dungeon of Lodwar Prison.His life spiraled downwards thereafter after he became the step mother's ego's defense mechanisms,she had started displacing all the anger she harboured on Ofuho and his sister, "I can't go back there," he lamented "You'd rather separate our cards".

I was infuriated.I wanted to see these things for myself,so I asked the community based supervisor to take me to the homestead.My DRC reflector valiously dotted on my back,we strotted through the blocks silently with Ofuho tagging closely behind.

Once we got to the homestead,a putrid stench of alcohol greeted our senses.Ofuho's step mother was washing utensils closely by and she rose to greet us as we approached.

We explained expeditiously that she was needed in the office for a few questions .I asked about her husband and why he was in Prison.She narrated how he was such a horrible man to her and the children.How he had not only killed his first wife but also beat her to near death.She lamented about how it was such a good thing he was locked up because he was a lunatic."He even shot my own brother dead in South Sudan...."she remarked in agitated frenzy.The plot had thickened