Filled Vessel
I burn myself in fire to keep you warm
I bleed the River Nile trying to heal your wound
Yes, I cry you an ocean and you sail across on a boat
I drown myself in that ocean just to help you stay afloat
I hold seas in my eyes yet you are rather intrigued by its food
Yes, I give you the sweetness of life to enter my bees' swarm.
Notwithstanding, my thoughts are:
Stars I cannot fathom into a constellation;
Words I cannot communicate in Shakespearean dialect
Musical notes I cannot arrange into a Mozart piece
But yet you shatter my broken hearts into pieces
And acting like you don't care, you stay quiet
Wondering how I could remain in your imagination.
You silenced my thoughts in Babel's tower
For you to awaken my voice in the graveyard
You heat me up to boiling up, now you ask for breathing space
Yet when I give you the whole world you demand for Space
Thinking I'm Armstrong, perhaps I'm not strong to keep up your pace.
Yes, I surrendered my heart to you
Like the Aladura's claiming to be born anew.
But you mistake it for dust-
The dust which the cleaner ignores,
The harmmatan dust that lives people pale
Still you lead me on, dragging me on your Clydesdale
Knowing I would fall for your subterfuge
As a broken soul in need of refuge.
Yes, you shattered my already-broken heart
Thinking you could outsmart me with your sweetheart art.
Now I look at the ocean from a canoe
And shout from the south.
My north latitude will always be the thorn in your altitude.
INDEX:
Aladura’s: Classification of churches that abide by a Christian religious denomination founded in 1918 in West Africa
Harmattan: A season in West Africa, which is characterized by dry and dusty trade wind, of the same name, which blows from the Sahara Desert over West Africa into the Gulf of Guinea.
Lesson learnt
I'm scared
Scared to break, to fall
Scared to mend, to rise
Fear engulfs me as I try
Try and try to love
But it's just another 4 letter word
Like hate
I'm afraid
Afraid to care, to show
Afraid to ignore, to conceal
My fears are the demons attacking me
Consistent attacks I cannot stop
But it's just another 6 letter word
Like endure
40% sad
60% happy
A wholesome 100 you make me
But can never mend my whole
Broken pieces
In your deceptive eyes and
Cunning fingers
You grabbed my heart
Changed it from the rocks of the shore
To the deep waters of the blue
And now you've got me
And I've got you
But this doesn't take away
My fear or my attacks
Perhaps even more
It drives them closer to me
You said you loved me
And I believed you
Even with my broken pieces you called heart
Now you say you hate me
And I believe you
Cos it's just a four letter switch
Something you couldn't switch up in time
Before you turned my lights on
For you to push me back in darkness
Submerged hopes, lesson learnt
✓ Xx Ayanfe
Intro
Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these days you'd like to know me.
Hi, I just joined Prose like about a week ago and didn't know an intro will be done but here's it.
While searching for writing websites, I came across Prose and decided to check it out. It seemed really nice so from the website I decided to get the app on my phone so I'd join and all. So far, I love it. I was previously on Wattpad but I was tired of it streamlined mainly to books. I wanted to check out something different, something better, and I'm glad I've found it finally; here on Prose.
Now about me. My name is Ayanfe but my other name is Lola. I was born and bred in Nigeria. I'm a Christian and I have a little ministry which God is building up on Instagram- @girl_for_god_. I want to be a lawyer and an author. I'm the quiet, 'anti-social' one who would rather write her thoughts than say them out loud. I'm thirteen going to 10th grade and I've been writing since I was 7/8 years old. It started from classroom exercises we called Creative Writing and from there, I've always found a passion for writing. With my dad as a motivation and my school building everyone up, writing only gets better. I also enjoy reading, singing and listening to music. I'm a huge fan of John Green and Gayle Forman ;)
And I loveee Adele and Sam Smith's music !
I recently won The Best Writer in my set in the Hall of Fame for 9th grade !!! But I know that's just the beginning of greater things to come
Writing is how I express myself. I mostly write about myself in poetry, stories, essays except school assignments :S Whenever I'm angry or sad I just get my 'little orange book' and write deep stuffs but sort of coated by not mentioning names or the actual situation in case someone reads it. Writing is a huge part of me- how I feel several emotions and situations but still come down to one. It's how I express myself, how I release all my stress and how I relinquish. Reading is the oxygen and writing is my lungs ;)
Weird
The complexity of her mind and emotions
Is not fathomed by the race of
Developed apes
Call her weird
She does what you won't think of doing
Or perhaps try
Call her weird
She thinks differently
From you, then and 'the rest'
Call her weird
She acts in a way your character
Is not inclined to
Call her weird, but you know
She's just UNIQUE
That girl is unique, she's herself
She's ME
Your love
Mesmerized, I am each day I stare at you
Enchanted, I feel each time your presence is near
Reborn, I am each day you talk to me
Engulfed everyday in your love
Your steady pace invites me
From my deserted solitary anti-
Social to your captivating
Social
Constantly filling my oasis with your love like the rainfalls from heaven
A desert blessing, an ocean curse
Your love for me is that of the deep blue
Inhabiting several kinds of perks
You shower me with your love
As the sky showers us with rain
Or your love for me is as the desert
Vastly covered by sand-
Uncountable sand of your infinite love
Only few growing plants
Only you and I will survive
No matter what situation
Your love for me is my Christmas gift
Once a year I open it, delighted
But I wait for the next day
And it's all gone
Where has your love gone to ?
I'll have to wait till next year