When we die- when a strong change befalls us, it’s up to us [choice] to struggle to find balance again. When we choose light, we become a light ourselves.
Remove the cover; let your pains escape. Mold them into words and music; anything you might be inspired to make. Let their flow lead you to be river; take as long as you need to take. Be willing to swim, let go and heal; be open to new changes in shape. Don’t cover; choose to recover for your very own sake.
You’ll be surprised at how creative you can become when you are angry, in pain, when everything within you just hurts. The high level of joy that whatever you make/achieve will bring to you if you choose to heal through it, by not just ignoring the pain but by expressing it, is immense. Find relief, satisfaction and happiness in/through (not despite) your agony.
She always had to ask if he loved her, and he often replied with a “yeah, yeah, love you, sure I do. Why do you keep asking?”
She was looking for the Àjọkẹ́, s’ó n gbọ́ mi? Mo nífẹ̀ẹ́ rẹ. The I am in love with you that was often said with a soft voice and a pleading gaze; it was what she was used to, what she had taken for granted. It was what she really wanted.
She hated herself for hurting a man who used to declare his love for her ever so often, sometimes with tears in his eyes, because he did so.
There could be two different men in this piece, or just one man [the same man], depending on how you choose to interpret it.
Death is such a selective listener. It heard you groan and cry in pain, and it came over to take you away. It chose to not hear my pleading, my wails for it to let you stay, as I asked God to grant you healing.