Where Hope Waited

I left the path untouched
wood still breathing over the river
that learned the sound of your name

Your number still sleeps in my phone
a ghost curled inside glass
waking hope
every time the screen flickers

Our pictures remain
small museums of a past
that refuses to close its eyes

And my arms
two empty rooms
still warm
from the last time you lived there

I thought leaving everything open
would guide you home

But seasons crossed that path
more faithfully than you ever did

Rain waited with me
The moon watched

And slowly
even hope
stopped listening for your footsteps

​

Woke Up in Another Era

I woke up,
not in a new world,
but in a new era.
Mine.

An era where silence feels richer than noise,
and my circle?
Curated.
Tight.
Real.

I let go of dead weight.
Even if it wore a family name.
No guilt, just growth.

I’ve stopped
spilling pieces of me into people
who only sip from my soul
for gossip and giggles.

Privacy hits different.

An era where I don’t wear filters
to feel beautiful.
I no longer post for attention,
I post because I feel good
and God’s been good.

This era?
I don’t fake playlists to fit in.
I want raw beats, native sounds
That hardcore Zimdancehall

that hits right in the soul.

I’m in that era
Where I don’t chase energy.
I don’t beg to belong.
I’m chasing peace
Like its the only currency.

​

This era?
It tastes like peace
Sounds like honesty
Feels like freedom
So soft and calm.

​

The Orchard of Choices

In the orchard of choices, where branches extend,
Each apple a decision, a path without end.
Some gleam like the morning, tempting and bright,
While others hang heavy, shrouded in night.

With fingers outstretched, I wander the rows,
Sifting through options, where uncertainty grows.
A crisp red allure, promising sweet taste,
Yet caution whispers, “Don’t rush, don’t waste.”

Beneath the green canopy, shadows entwine,
The weight of each choice, a burden divine.
Do I reach for the fruit that glistens with pride,
Or pause at the ones that humility hide?

Some apples are flawless, their surface a dream,
But inside they’re hollow, or bursting at the seam.
Others, though bruised, hold a wisdom untold,
Lessons wrapped gently in skins worn and old.

With each chosen apple, a path starts to form,
A journey unfolding, both chaotic and warm.
For life is an orchard, vast and unplanned,
Where choices like fruits are plucked from the hand.

So I gather my harvest, both bitter and sweet,
Embracing the journey, no matter the feat.
In the orchard of choices, I learn to believe,
That each fruit has its story, and I am the weave.

In ripened reflection, I stand here today,
Grateful for moments that led me this way.
For every decision has brought me to see,
The beauty in choices and the power in me.

​

Behind the Curtain

At home, I’m polite.
At church, I’m pure light.
Smiling so hard
My cheeks bruise from the weight.

You see my grades,
My Sunday clothes,
My quiet nods
To rules I never chose.

But there’s a me behind the curtain,

A me I tuck away.
Flawed, fierce, and uncertain,
Afraid of what you’ll say.

So if you ask, “Who am I?”
I’m a storm in a quiet sky.

I’m not proud of every secret
Or the paths I sometimes take,
But I wish you’d understand
That perfect is just fake.

I want to make you happy
God knows I try so much.
But I’m human, stitched with errors

Soft to every touch.

Don’t hold me to a pedestal
Too high for mortal feet.
Leave room for me to stumble,
And still feel loved, complete.

I’ll shine my own bright lantern
If you let me breathe and grow.

Trust that even with my shadows,

I’m still your child, you know.

​

Glitch

Our love is a weak signal,
always cutting out when I need clarity.
You move the router of truth,
so I blame myself for the disconnect.

Gaslighting crackles like static in my ears,
you twist my words
until I can’t tell if I’m buffering or breaking.

I keep trying to repair what I never broke,
typing in passwords that never work,
refreshing, retrying,
begging for a bar of effort from you.

But the screen freezes,
the call drops,
I’m stuck in a loop
while you act like the line is clear.