Someday I Might Be Your Lover 

‚ÄčAnother Flag On Your Bedpost


When was the last time you slept alone? I think the answer is you don’t remember. Night after night there is always someone to kill the lonely. You can’t let anyone stay long enough to see your demons and you don’t like sleeping your bed that much. 

How many flags on your bedpost will be enough so that you can finally deal with your demons?

How many bodies and fluids exchange before you decide to get clean? 

Sex is good, organsm even better but those are just distractions. I guess it’s time, time to confront the past. Go back to the neighborhood you grew up and see if you can reconcile with the past. Go back to your former school, see if you can make peace with the past. Call all your exes and try and make peace with that too. Call your first love, let them know they messed you up. Just start from somewhere! 

Confront your demons one by one. You can run but you can’t hide. The past has a way of leaking in the present, I wouldn’t want to see you freak out because of that. Demons have a way of spilling when we least expect, I don’t want to suffer through your nightmares either. Don’t be a shamed of your baggage, everyone has a little skeleton in their closet. The only way to move forward is by cleaning out your closet. 

Go ahead honey, I will hold your hand. Just don’t say you love me before you deal start dealing with your demons. I would like to be a bandaid, another flag on your bedpost but I have been that too many times, it’s stupid to repeat mistakes over and over again. Besides, I like you a little too much, maybe we will work out something. Something solid and worth fighting for.  For now; I will be your friend, I will be your sometimes therapist and confidant(if you want to talk). Who knows, Someday I might be your lover. Make yourself proud, for your own sake, deal with all those baggage that leak from your eyes every once in a while when you put your guard down. Plus I think you use so much keeping that guard up all the time. 

I don’t want you to be perfect but I want you to try slay some of those demons consuming your soul. I don’t know your story, don’t tell me. Go right ahead and deal. Honey, I don’t want perfection but I want you to be a work in progress. You don’t have to be with me, no, no. But I wouldn’t want you to keep that much Band-Aids in your cabinet. Drugs, sex, booze, night life…… I wonder, how bad is it? Very bad I suppose. When was the last time you were sober? That has SOS all over it. 

Maybe you should see a therapist. That’s a good start. Or start talking about it, I hate that look in your eyes Like you carrying the whole goddamn world on your shoulder. Your York might be heavy but maybe it’s time to put it down might for freedom. 

Telephone Conversation

Hello

Hello, and am talking to? 

Oh.. You probably don’t remember me or my voice has change or…. 

Stop right there, hello beautiful. 

You call everyone beautiful? 

No, silly. Stop rambling. How have you been beautiful Riri. 

Aawww… You remember? (I respond with fake enthusiasm). I’m doing Okay. You? Glad my voice hasn’t change much. 

I’m Okay too. We haven’t talked for a while but I make a point of reading your posts online. You haven’t changed a bit girl… 

Hahaha… I take that as a compliment. 

I meant it as a compliment… You still the same wild carefree girl I used to know. We don’t talk and stuff but your free spiritedness spills in the words you bleed. 

Thanks again. You should read the ones I don’t post… Ooh and am really glad you take your sweet time to read by the by. 

I’m your number one fan… And it’s never a sad moment going through your posts… Sometimes I try to figure out what your source of inspiration could have been. 

It has always been you… My muse, you know. 

Hahaha..you pray with  that mouth?  You lying little brat. 

Hahahahaha… Am not a brat. Maybe am lying a little but sometimes you are my inspiration. 

So, why did you call me? After like forever.
Because we are going for an adventure. Am flying you to Dubai.. 

What? Why? 

Because many years ago we made a promise.. 

I remember. We were to go to Dubai together bla bla bla … 

Yes.. 

… But we are not young anymore. I have work, kids and a sweet woman by my side. 

I know that much. I called your boss. You are sick and cannot go to work so better play . oh i also called your wife, emergency work trip. She is packing your stuff already. 

What…. You are going to get me fired and divorced all under ten minutes? 

No.. god no, I wouldn’t do that. It just felt like the right thing to do… 

You are totally crazy. What makes you think I will come with you? And I never told you where I work.. 
Because you promised. That’s why. And the internet is a beautiful place plus I did my homework. And not in a weird crazy stalker kind of way.. 

That was like more than ten years ago.. When we made Dubai plans girl! 

15.. 

Yea, you were 22. Thanks for reminding me how old I am . 

So… 

Okay, when are we leaving? 

You are leaving tonight at 2000hrs 

TF.. Where are you? 

France.. I will meet you there. 

Okay. Let’s do Dubai. 

See you then. 

Before you hang up… You owe me so much.. 

I owe you nothing, silly.. 

Eldoret I Don’t Love You

“Of all my lovers, you were suppose to be my forever”

Eldoret, my hometown and others call you the home of champions. I know you like the back of my hand. I have walked your streets back and forth for over a decade and a half. When the rains come, you and your mud and running water on the streets. I loved the windy November and the rains in December and everyone hates thr heat and dust that comes with January. I grew up here, so I got used to your ever changing seasons long ago. We have been doing okay, you were one place I knew I would never want to leave. You were my forever love, the one place I knew I could always run back to. Even when I left I knew I would somehow come back. But forever is obviously not for always

Fare thee well

In your soil I have bled. 

In your soil I have wept. 

In your soil I have grown.

In your soil I have known surprise and sorrows and worries. 

In your soil I had a good laugh and a good cry

In your soil I made good memories. 

In your soil I suffered. 

In your soil I have prospered. 

In Your soil I found love and hate

In your soil I have known bitterness 

In your soil I have known graciousness. 

In your soil I evolved. 

I feel like silver and you were both fire and the crucible that was used to make and test me. 

I left you maybe once or twice or a couple of times but I always came back. 

Now I think it’s time to go. It’s time I explore other soils, find out what they hold. I hope to make a home somewhere along the way because you don’t feel like home anymore. I have evolved and your soil and fire is too weak to keep me. Even when we were playing for keeps. Or maybe am not as grown as I feel but my childhood dreams of the land faraway seem like something I should explore. Or maybe it’s because am tired of the same faces, dusty streets and unpredictable weather that you come with. Or maybe it’s the November wind that lately has been whispering to my ears stories from faraway, seducing me to follow her and find out about all those places she has been. Or maybe I am tired of living in a small town and big cities dreams seem like something I should go for. I have to go, I hope to never come back and if I do, I hope you will receive me. Make love to me like a long lost lover that you are. 

Eldoret, I don’t love you anymore. Am breaking up with you. Thanks for being such a real and lousy lover. Sometimes a little abusive but then again, every roleave. s its thorn. 

To Atthis

Sappho Letters

Though in Sardis now,

she things of us constantly

and of the life we shared.

She saw you as a goddess

and above all your dancing gave her deep joy.

Now she shines among Lydian women like

the rose-fingered moon

rising after sundown, erasing all

stars around her, and pouring light equally

across the salt sea

and over densely flowered fields

lucent under dew. Her light spreads

on roses and tender thyme

and the blooming honey-lotus.

Often while she wanders she remem-

bers you, gentle Atthis,

and desire eats away at her heart

for us to come.

–Translated by Willis Barnstone

Will You Marry Me

“Am willing to play ball, if a ring is promised”

I promise to be everything she expects from a daughter in-law. You said you come from a very respectable Christian family. I will go to church and get baptized. I hope joining the choir won’t be going a little overboard. Anyway am joining the choir. I love music, I don’t have a singing voice. A girl can play a little you know. I don’t care, as long as it earns me points. If your mom will nod with approval, why not?So, if she favours me, will you marry me? 

I promise I will learn how to cook good food.when I meet your mom I will pretend to love cooking. Maybe I should add cooking on my non existent list of hobbies, that’s not a little over board… . I will even lie that I spend my free time cooking, make up stories of baking Cookies with my dearest mommy and stuff. Possibly exaggerate a little on some bullshit recipe that grandma taught mom and that mom taught me. I will even suggest we try it in her kitchen. Pray  she turns the offer down. The last thing I need is blowing it. That would mean embarrassing my non cooking mostly dead ancestors. I don’t know why I think that would be embarrassing. Maybe it got something to do with washing dirty linen in public. But grandma didn’t love cooking and she wasn’t embarrassed about it.  Let’s not get sidetracked here, the goal is to win your mom over, any way. I need to know, Will you marry me then? 
If you wondering how far am willing to go. Dearling, the answer is as far as it takes. I am a woman, one who never backs down when she sets her eyes on something (you marrying me).  This girl is unstoppable. I will play this game like a Russian roulette. I play to win. So before I make my first step, before I start. Will you marry me if i get your mom to play?  Because dealing, it takes two to tango. I can win her over but Will you marry me? 
Reasons Why I Considered Marrying You

  • I want a ring
  • I want a ring
  • I want to go to Paris
  • I want to go to Paris
  • You love someone else, so a marriage of convenience will do. 
  • I want go get my mom off my back. 
  • I want a big ring, one I can pur on Instagram. A ring big enough to be Instagram Worthy. 
  • You don’t talk much, I could use a little silence right now. 
  • I don’t care about you, so it will work out think. 
  • Ooh.. And the only challenge is to get your mom to Like me. Challenge accepted. 

So, if I fulfill the quest, will you marry me? I need to know. If your mom gives us her blessing, will you pop the question? In Paris with an Instagram Worthy ring, that is!  

The Baby She Wanted

Blood stains after your pregnancy test was positive.Your first thought was to Google, Google gave you a false hope that it’s pretty normal to bleed during pregnancy. There was no need to raise alarm or anything. The bleeding went on for over 24 hours and you thought maybe you should see your doctor for a second opinion. After examinations and several tests you are told it’s nothing serious, go home, take a bed rest for a few days, it will stop. It’s nothing serious, you are assured. As promised, the bleeding stops, business as usual.

After two weeks and a few days, you start bleeding again. You don’t see a doctor, this time you give yourself a prescription. You stay indoors. The bleeding doesn’t stop, so you call your best friend to hangout with you. It gets worse, she takes you to hospital. You faint on the way, and when you finally conscious everyone is acting weird around you. The doctor comes and deep down you know it’s bad news. He says as gently as he can,”you lost the baby and there’s nothing we could have done…..” He keeps talking but you don’t hear a thing.
You are shocked, you don’t know if you should be glad that you alive or cry because you didn’t get to hold your baby. You switched to autopilot, that’s your way of dealing with stress. You always do what needs to be done, your mother didn’t raise you with the spirits of your ancestors to give up easily. Like the responsible adult you have become, you  call your mom, not to cry or anything, it’s because you are expected to.

You get to your place and mommy is there waiting for you. She hugs you, longer than usual. She made you something to eat, lots of soup enough to drown a dinosaur. Mommy sits by you, without saying a word which is odd, she is always talking. Then before she leaves, she tells you, “I understand”.
After the shock, denial settles in. You can believe you lost the only thing you that was suppose to save you. You are bleeding and mom is feeding you antibiotics but still you don’t want to accept that it happened. Especially not to you, you have heard stories about miscarriages,and it was just that, stories.

Then you started googling about”causes of miscarriage “.Google provided 100 pages worth of results.

After reading through half the results it hits you that several of those causes has actually happened to you.

That one time you skipped lunch might have caused you this, that time you forgot to take your IFAS drug might be the reason. Or was it that time you fought with your boyfriend the reason because it left you so stressed. Or maybe that one time you worked over time is the real reason.

Google has left you more confused that anything. You are even considering building a time machine and go back in time to have a do over. You promise not to mess up.

You can’t sleep at night now. And during the day you are on zombie mode. You have no idea what goes on in work and when you are home your demons won’t let you rest. You wonder what those lumps of blood held,was it a boy or girl?were they twins? How would it have looked like? What would you have named it? Your mind cannot shut down and when you finally fall asleep all you have are nightmares. Not the scary kind of nightmares, the beautiful dreams that picks on the scabs of your wounds. You see beautiful babies in your dreams and when you reach out to hold you wake up. It’s all an illusion and your brain is playing with your already broken heart.

How can the world be this cruel to you. Will this pain ever stop? Will the wound stop throbbing? Will the bleeding stop? You badly want all these to stop. You have even contemplated suicide.

You wonder how pathetic can your body be and not carry a little being to term. Your doctor said you can try again once you are healed. Are you even strong enough to give it another shot? What if you loose it again? Are you even strong enough to want to try. Is there a handbook of how to handle these kind of thing?

The baby she wanted, she didn’t get to hold.