some nights, i'm trying hard to unbelong. my breath is a wisp when i think of how hard this weaning can be. it coils inside me, twisting my insides with so little mercy. it flaps, beats against my skin and tries to push itself free. some nights, i find myself twirling into a person who is just a cord- neat, containing in its form all the intricate little strings.
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on what life meant to make out of faith
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Mamu touched my hair the other day and said: This is not the hair of the girl I birthed. What did you do to your hair? I touched my hair, im... -
i cannot imagine how you put up with a man who drags you by your nape and tells you to go to your room and puts you out in the night. it...
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