Remember me

I want you always to remember me. Will you remember that I existed and that I stood next to you here like this?

For Dear Love

Dear Love,

But how is it going to all work out?

     –Shhh you are missing the best part of the story.

Dear Love,

Send me to the roots of where I can feel you.

       –Trust in what you already recognise.

Dear Love,

It feels like am everywhere, anywhere and sometimes nowhere with you..

         –love is everywhere she is allowed to be.

Dear Love,

Must I make a decision on who to love?

           –just breath besides me , our love story has no demands …

—-c.ecewrites

Falling

And

I don’t want to fall ,

unless it’s you am falling

Into….

Everything

We stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing.

But, it was the kind of nothing, that meant Everything.

The invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’ s longing. I have stopped being interested in knowing how old someone is ..I want to know if you will risk being a fool- for love , for your dreams, for that adventure of being alive..

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true, I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself ..if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul..if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy

I want to know if you can live with failure yours or mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver moon ” yes”

#oriahmountaindreamer

In the small moments of today

In the small moments of today remember there is nothing wrong with you,. This is growth This is transformation Protecting yourself Getting lost in the noise Figuring it out Feeling used Uncared for losing hope burning out this is fear. This is processing. This is surviving. This is being alive💚✨

Poem

You walking down those stairs, waving at me with that goofy smile on your face . Jesus

8.09.22

May September bring all the promises August failed to keep.

We are briefly gorgeous

Is that what art is? To be touched thinking what we feel is ours when, in the end, it was someone else, in longing , who finds us?

My story

I am an ordinary girl. My story is not all that interesting. It’s kinda not boring either.Its not even long. I smile like an idiot when my crush speaks to me and am still working on not saying stupid things and embarassing my self when he is around me. I haven’t travelled out of my country , so I won’t bore you with stories of places I have been. I am not a party animal but when I tried partying, I got home late , We are talking 1:30am late. My dad asked me where I was ,You can imagine the look in his eyes when I told him, ‘ Relax , old man, shit happened”. I don’t remember what I was high on. I swear if I was four years, my butt would have been black and blue that night. It ended with me being told to go back to where I was coming from. My mother pleaded my case , guess that woman is the only one who makes him weak . So I stopped partying.

I wear glasses, I love reading. I know you thinking I am a nerd. I am not . My eyes are almost big. They are beautiful if you catch me without glasses. I even have a black spot on my pupil because of straining .You can’t tell my grandmother and her beleifs that though .She is convinced that, that black spot means I am lucky with love. Dear grandmother at Gatundu, I hope you are right. Because lately when I say hello , Love says goodbye. I was even thinking of Kamau of where we used to take our cow for mating. He used to smile at me. He still does , though he never utters a word. I think he is scared of me. Wait, am I scary?
I am still learning to look at the mirror and think the person who stares back is a badass. Because I realise I need to remind her that she is a lot. Maybe everyday . I am still putting on more than four outfits before I decide on what I will eventually wear. Some I change because I think my ass appears tiny in them. Others because I met a certain person in it what if I wear and meet him again I don’t want him calling me the ‘pink dress gal’, Others it’s because it really shows my stomach even after drinking those bitter smoothies and doing those pushups that make me make those noises like a cow on heat.
I am still covering my face with tonnes of make up. And taking selfies while pursing my lips together as though I am eating a long strip of supaghetti one by one. And I have started laughing openly without feeling the urge to cover my mouth. So that I can hide my two front teeth, if you look closely they are kinda misaligned .You might also notice a dimple if you lucky. If you don’t , it’s because it’s not there.
On Sunday you’d probably meet me wearing a dress that covers my long flawless legs. That would be because I sing in the church Acapella choir. My voice wouldn’t make Mohammed climb down the mountain. But I try not to croak. Also don’t be surprised when I great you with a brother ( insert your name) . Wait , I wouldn’t great you that way. I am testing your demons.
You see, my story is not all that interesting.