My dad had a car accident  on his way to my grandma’s burial…doctors said it was  lethal but he miraculously survived the injury… After spending 3weeks in the hospital and going through 2 head surgeries, he died while being transferred to another hospital. You see I spoke to my mum everyday for 3weeks while my dad was in a coma and she never came home, she spent 3 weeks in the hospital and sleeping in the car or sometimes under the stairs because there wasn’t any room for her. She prayed endlessly and cried too. Yet after the news of his death she never stopped praying for him. Truth is the prayers became even stronger.  Oh! How I admired her strength and resolve to soldier on. It gave my siblings and I the faith we needed to hold on too. But when no-one is looking she breaks down in bottomless tears. Days after the news I wrote this and called it “The Death Note”


The night was so cold that 29th day in April.
I had such a horrible dream
I watched your face fade into the night
Almost like you were erased from my earth
I woke up with fear’s grip around my heart
I couldn’t breathe.

There is a pain that is carved deep within
There is a grieve that is unspoken
But how do i grieve daddy?
How do i bring myself to understand this loss? how do i accept it? How do i find strength? Where do i find strength?

The mirror on the stand shows a reflection of you in me.
Blood of my blood, father of my bones, skin i am cut from.
As the warmth of my tears heat up skin and I am reminded that i am alive.

I hear mother’s voice grow louder
I scratch off the tears strayed on my cheek. Strength!!! I summon weakly.
I seat next to her sometimes, and I watch her mind walk down the abyss of the undead, her eyes sparkle from tears awaiting arrival

A pang of pain shot through my heart
I immediately recognize your reflection in her glass framed eyes
But you are not alone mother! You are not alone, We feel it too, we see him too
We miss him too.

I am so weak, my knees tremble
And i fall knees to the ground,
Steaming tears rushed down my eyes uncontrollably.
But i felt a powerful embrace, gripped me from behind and he said “I am your Lord and I will not forsake you”…


My eyes flashed open to the voices of people crying “oh Lord! oh Lord!”
I froze as I saw their arms stretched towards the tiny red hairs that stood on my mother’s head
And with every cry of ‘Amen’, the tears rained down her cheeks
Her arms spread akibo in prayer as she fell to her knees, how do I grieve for my love? How do I let go?
The thumping of my heart grew a little louder as I tried to stop the tears that threatened to emerge in storm.
But you are not alone mother….we are here too.

-Wendypills||The Poetry Journal

The Meet

You know how you meet someone again after many years of actually knowing the person. Its almost like you are meeting the person for the first time.

You guys probably went to high school or college together but all of sudden on this day you are in synch and you are just wondering where have you been all my life?

Well… that how I felt when I met Dee again  and it felt like we were, how would you say “new old friends ”


The Meet…
I met him today,
He looked exactly  the same
His eyes were pitch black and small
He smiled exactly the same way and his voice had a new bass in it.

I couldn’t stop starring at him
I wanted to hold his hand
I wanted to kiss him
I wanted to feel his skin against  mine
But all I could do was fight my demons and smile.

We talked,
About life, passion, hopes, faith, love
Oh we talked about everything
And he smiled at me and my insides cringed with pleasure
And I knew I had to  know him.
But he broke me, he didn’t want to know me.

I got a message from him
It only said “hi” but I loved it
It was like sweet torture
And we talked again, we talked about everything
I had to have him, but does he want me?

He has an amazing mind
He wants me but he can’t afford me
He’d hold me tight, yet tear his heart away.
He’s waiting…

I saw him today,
My heart kept racing and I couldn’t control the beads of sweat formed around my neck
He smelled like autumn
I could drown in his scent
I wanted to hold him close.

We kissed,
It was soft, warm and wet
I felt a cold chill run down my spine
Oh I could kiss him forever
I loved it but did he?

We held hands,
I want to jump in
I want to dive in
But he’s in a battle
His faith and individuality
And am at war, him and his peace

I adore him
He’s whole and spirited
He’s got this fire within
Its subtle but it burns
He could be  everything…

But I’ll just be here…’cause I know we’d meet again.


Today is my mum’s birthday… I am so happy. God has given me such a lovely mother. Sometimes it feels like I was just lucky. Mum and I are not even that close and every now and then she’d be looking for an opportunity to be a part of the bits of my life. I appreciate that the most. I am not a very chatty person, so sometimes it could be hard to open up. I rather write than speak. I feel like it sounds better on paper (lol). Everyone thinks their mum is the greatest, well that maybe true. My mum, she’s different. I believe and I’ll always say she’s a man and woman put together. The good Lord gave her the grace of a lady and the strength of a man. I really can’t explain how that is, but that’s the way I see her. She’s everything and more. She more than a woman.

Yep there she is, the incredible woman...

Yep there she is, the incredible woman…

Blessed is the woman who bore me
She walks my path and holds me tight
She would not blink, until I am asleep
She prays for me, more than she prays for herself
She has loved me even before she knew me
I would fall she would run to me and dust me up
She would hold me tight and say “I’ll never let go”
She’s my jewel, my best friend
And when I feel lost, she’s my safe harbor
She’s my crown and my staff
She’s a bright star, when all goes dark
She’s my angel and my demon
She holds my joy and dances its tune
She takes my pain and cries with me
She bares her strength to me- selflessly
She’s my heart- She’s my MOM



I do not believe there’s a particular pattern or behavior every human must adopt. I believe in morality and integrity. I think individual differences should be understood in all it’s entirety. People should be allowed to be who they are without breaking any moral code but what is the moral code, if you ask me I’d say the answer lies in our inner-selves (it’s just one man’s opinion though). Why can’t I be me without being subjected to who I am not? I am not like every body else. I love my seclusion and weirdness. I want to bask in the glory of my uniqueness. Yet not hear those side whisperings and hush! hush! I want to do me and be loved for it.



Let me fall, get up and clean my wounds
Let me make my mistakes, I am only human
I want to learn and live through it
Let me race into the woods and find my adventure
It is too cruel to sit in room of nothing and marvel at its mundane
I want to let go, feel my heart soar and float in my day dreams
I am liberal.

I believe in freedom to its peak, not just the fundamentals
but the freedom to dream, to live, to write, to love, to hurt
I want to testify to the purity of nature and its beauty
I want to live for me, for my hopes and my dreams
Let me sit and watch the sun set and rise
Let me struggle in a path I so believe

Let my passion drive me mad, or let the word not count
I want my feet to walk through and through roads untraveled
Let success sing its praises at my stride
Let my unborn children laugh in their time
Let me fight with no weapons for a world I truly believe
Let me invent my own world with a vision that we may need

Let me kneel before the heavens and the stars
and say a prayer just out loud
Let me cry when the pain has dug so deep for me to bear
Let me write when the words fill my heart but can’t come out
Let me laugh at the silliness of life
I am liberal, just let me be.

In the end, a little weird isn’t so bad…

Te Amo, Je T’aime, I Love You…

yep...they say it feels like this...

yep…they say it feels like this…

Te amo, Je t’aime, I love you… Beautiful words. But do you feel sometimes they don’t really express how you feel about a person, like the words are not enough. Take a deep breath and try to get the right words out. It reminds me of a poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning “how do I love thee” I can say for a fact, I fell in love with the purity of her words. In another life I hope I get to meet her.

My lips are pregnant
they want to speak of more
those words, they do not say it all
this happy heart wants to express it’s gratitude
with more than just a few words.

My once desolate lips wants more
they want words that taste of wine
that sour up the tongue yet so divine
fill your ears with few more drops of my unearthly words

My heart is gold, laced with purple and scarlet
do I carve out my chest so you see the beauty?
I want to see it through your eyes
feel the warmth of your hands wrapped around it

Don’t you dare be my friend
oh lover of mine, creature of the night
be with me in ways you know how
tie my hands, I am your slave
bind my legs, I won’t walk away

My lips are pregnant,
I want bore words you have never heard
and let them sing a fine tune in your ears
let its melody rock you to sleep like a lullaby
dream of me in the clouds you hang
star shaped me floating around

Let me drown in your scent
you smell of fresh lavender wine,
let your scent be like oil on my skin,
I will go water dry if you so desire
I want to be stripped by your eyes
one look for a piece of clothing

Don’t back down now,
You are almost there
can you see it? see through the thick layers of skin
do you see how beautiful it is…
Yes my darling… let me say this,

Jamais doute, Je t’aime…

Walking Dead…

I loved this book...loved, loved it.

I loved this book…loved, loved it.

I loved the diary of the lost girl, loved, loved it… the book was amazing. Although when I feel lost its quite different. I could write about happy to bring a smile on my face, I could write about pain and I’ll feel it in my chest. I could write about trust and a part of me might laugh, I could write about zeal and I know I’ll toughen up. But today I feel a bit empty and all the books that surround me hide their charm somehow. My music has lost its touch. There are no sounds here, just people. I feel like I’m in a black and white movie without sounds. I have somehow been shot out of my time. I’m somewhere beyond the past but, if this isn’t the past then, where is this?

I’m a walking dead,
I don’t even hear myself breathe
I’m invisible, no one sees me, no one hears me
my ghost friends form a circle around me
they are laughing, talking about happy times
I’m lost, even in ghost town
Where do I belong? Who am I?

I’m a walking dead,
I walked past my old house today
even the streets don’t recognize me
I’m color blind, everything is coffee and brown
Where am I? Why am I lost?
I do not know.

I miss happy times, sometimes I forget what it means
I see happy faces, laughter and smiles
I find peace in their joy
a little smile hides my pain away

I’m a walking dead
I don’t hear myself breathe
color has drained from my world
rainbows don’t appear here, and if they did
I’m color blind, everything is coffee and brown.

In Pursuit of Happiness…or as you may call it

I always say Esther has a way of pulling people into her world. Drama filled world. I loved how deep her words were and they were so soothing. Everyone is in pursuit of something but in all I think everyone just wants to be happy. Don’t you agree?

Diary of a Dark Horse.

“True to who you are, you saw my heart and made something out of nothing”



I’m a sucker for long texts and emails and anything that has to do with typing. (If you need one, you can holla, one beautiful day, you will get the most random, absolutely long message from me…with these words at the beginning “I never do this”)

The most recent long mail I sent was to a guy I met last year. He is not an amazing guy, so, I won’t come here to patronize him. In this life that I’ve lived, I’ve met jerks and I’ve met him. His ‘jerkiness’ is on an entirely different level.  He was one of those people who would appear in your life like ‘willie willie’(a famous witch in 90’s Nollywood) and disappear like ‘domitila’ (a famous prostitute in 90’s Nollywood). He now somehow expects you to sit around Festac…

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The Freelance Boyfriend…Or not

Esther has a way of pulling into her world even when you don’t want to go there , I honestly enjoyed this piece and hope someone else does…xoxo…



Its 9.43am.

I’m still in his house. He is in his room-asleep or pretending to be.

I’m so tempted to drop a note on his dinning table.

Nothing can wash off this filth this dirt on my skin. Its crawling all over me and I’m screaming ”get off me please”

I feel stupid-I swear.


Last night was different.

We’ve never had a really deep conversation. Yesterday was our first time. We talked about our families and hopes and dreams and regrets and the last time. It was awkward. I’m not keen on emotional expressions , so, I tried to include as much humor as I could. But, I could see the spark in his eyes; he wanted to talk. He wanted to know me and I; I didn’t want to know him. There was a time I would kill to know him but not today. Not tomorrow. Not…

View original post 1,039 more words

Burning Bridges…

I’m sure most us have that one person that tries to keep you in check, tries to make you a better you. Yeah! I had that, he undoubtedly had my back. He kept asking me to try to be better, in his words “Pour your passion into something useful and hold on to it”. I never told him but those words meant and still mean a lot to me. But I fear I have lost out on something that would have been a beautiful friendship. You know how they say “you never know the value of what you have until you lose it”, well that’s true too. I have been working on this for a while but its still a little raw and my emotions are all over the place.

I stood, I sat, I waited a while...

I stood, I sat, I waited a while…

I built my house behind this bridge,
in the depth of the forest within,
I have lived here for as long as I have known life,
I have walked across and walked back home
There was always home behind this bridge.

I walked across the bridge one day,
and on my way home you blocked my path,
I asked you to walk with me,
But you removed the rods and spared my way.

I called out and asked again,
you turned and said to me,
“why build your home in the midst of the dark,
yet suffer to walk in light all day”.
I didn’t understand, so I walked away.

I walked across the bridge again,
and as I walked back you blocked my way,
I asked again “Please come with me”
but then you said “I’m standing here, I stand alone but let this be the last I cross this zone”.

And then you rolled the rods away
but as I watched you walk away,
I hoped to God that you were wrong.

I walked across the bridge last night
but as I walked back you were not there,
I turned and hoped that you were late,
even screamed and yelled out your name.

I stood, I sat, I waited a while
and soon I knew what I had lost,
blinded with tears I raced home,
I broke the windows, kicked down the doors,
tore the drapes and let out my rage.

I packed a bag and headed for that bridge,
I let the liquid spill carelessly across
and as I reached the end of it,
I threw a match and walked away.

Thus, I walk through streets unknown,
I search strange faces for yours alone…

For, O.G.F