African Inscribed

  Why are you this way? What is absolutely wrong? You crave for kindness and attention so bad and when you are lovingly shown, you hurry back into The Cave.  Deep meditations and contemplations against why you never stop running from commitments, why actions involving isolating yourself from everyone keeps rearing its head and why 'change' isn't viral in the little emotions left in you, continuously arises. You return into what you once were like the Prodigal son, in this case, daughter. Sad. Cold. Bitter. Empty. Blaming. Selfpitituous. Lost. I understand all that you've seen and being through ... Even those traumatic incidents that ne'er stops resurfacing in packages tagged as 'Nightmare'. You actually confide in no-one (even when you did, you only let out bits in long paragraphs to those who ever cared to know). You never sleep early. You stay up late all nights to clear the head that never cleared. Thinking, writhing in pains, crying. And when you eventua...

  “WHEN THE DEVIL REMINDS YOU OF YOUR SIN, YOU REMIND HIM OF CHRIST'S CRUCIFIXION and RESURRECTION!”, Reverend Tom of New Haven Parish screamed, the modern microphone attached from his ear until over his lips amplifying his voice across the large hall. Men, women and little children yelled from their pews with hopeful agreement. Everyone seated here in comfort had their best smiles pasted on, even possessed the right energy for every activity; to dance, clap, shout, sing, pray—It was almost as if everything in their lives were in place—and lock hands in strangers' with love . . . Was it real? If Love were in true existence, could I be the only individual seated amongst this sea of happy people in lack? Being in the House of God—like the red bricked housing was called—didn't allow the emotions I believed everyone felt when in His Presence. I heard of unsettling peace, indescribable joy and happiness, but here I sat; stiff, very lost and empty. “Have faith, Bernice”, that ...