Monthly Archives: April 2020

now

this sunset doesn’t remind me of you anymore,

the clock’s ticking,

now doesn’t prick a needle in my chest,

reminding me of you,

now the calmness of the air doesn’t remind me of your safe arms,

this beautiful evening doesn’t make me go back to the evenings you made beautiful.

things haven’t been the same till now,

maybe better,

maybe worse,

it’s funny,

the art of unloving.

-A.

Dear Journals,

Thank you.

Thank you for being there everytime. Thank you for listening to my rambling even when it’s 3 in the morning. You have the scraps of poetry I’m too afraid to speak out. You have my tears; tears of joy, anger, sorrow. You have the imperfect art I made to get out of my thoughts’ spirals. Thank you for keeping them safe.

Sorry for the times I tore your pages to remove memories of certain people.

One day, I won’t remember these pages and poems I wrote, pictures and flowers I stuck; that day, I will come back to you to make you remind me each of this time. The time I’ll cry happy tears because you kept the most precious of time safe.

I know that girl would go on, that she would grow up, have children and love them, that despite loving them she would get too sick to care for them, be hospitalized, get better, and then get sick again. I know a shrink would say, write it down, how you got here.

-Turtles All The Way Down, John Green

Until then,

I love you,

A.

Title: Feminism and What It Is Called

Author: Sophia Kaankuka

Genre: Feminism

• 

“Feminism and What it is Called” is a monologue of what feminism means by the author. It is a short light read which tells about the true meaning of feminism. Often, feminism is mistaken as hating men or considering women superior to me whereas feminism truly means equality, treating each gender equally. This books defines this with the help of 7 sub topics. Each topic discussing the sexism observed in the society by the author. It could have been more detailed. It makes the reader aware of feminism and its ideas.

“The “arc” we draw today would be the “arc” we revisit tomorrow. “

• 

3/5

I have always tried to escape you. Maybe I’ll always have a fear of you because pf the people who left at the sunset knowing you were my weakness. I am afraid of you because of the feelings you allow me to feel. The feelings that get lost admist the sun rays during the day.

The stars too get lost admist the sun rays as my feelings and you make me meet them. With you I feel too much as if I am a universe of exploding stars. I’ve written poems while being lost in you and on you.

“What scares you the most?” The night scares me.
For I let myself face the cruelty within me once again.
The monsters under my bed, never scared me
But the thoughts inside my head.
I am the most raw form of me at night-
The true versions of me,
Anxious, Scared and Weak. I had always feared being one of those
But ended up being it and then constantly hating myself for being me. “Crying is for the weak.” I was told,
I want to show myself brave and bold
So, I’ll hide my tears from everyone,
I can’t let anyone see my tears, I don’t want to be mistaken as weak.
So, find another corner in night.
Cry till I become numb
Then I think maybe tommorow will be better. I will have a new morning but also a new night.

With Love,

A.

Here, I see you again. Again on the same couch with the same journal. My tired eyes still gazing at you hoping you would use a magic wand and seep my sadness right out of me.

With every night that destroyed me, you were there with the sense of comfort and calm I needed. I’ll always look upto you when I think of love because I feel you and the Sun have the most beautiful love. I’ll always long for you for you’ve been there. You’ve seen the nights which drowned me into sorrow, you’ve seen the nights with the endless laughs, you’ve seen the best of me and the worst of me. Thank you.

One day, I’ll be old enough to not remember these nights. Read out this letter to me and remind of every crazy memory.

With Love,

A.