The Man of My Dreams

Many times a week, after we stopped talking, I would have several dreams of him- terribly stressful dreams that would make me cry. In those dreams, I would anxiously wait for him in the church that I grew up in, that we grew up in- where we first met, or in an unknown, deserted place, but he would ignore me.

He never remembered our initial meeting when we first began to talk, as much as I tried to get him to, but I did, very clearly. He was with his friends, and since they were so tall, they looked intimidating to me. He stretched his right hand out towards me and I put mine in his briefly, before asking my question. The question was about a creative-arts program that was to be held, if I remember correctly. I thanked him, and walked back to my guardian or friend, I cannot remember which.

The dream that made me cry the most was the one in which I was talking to him but he was avoiding eye contact and walking away, leaving me in an unknown place.

I had a very similar dream before we stopped talking, and I narrated everything that I could remember to him. I had not been in contact with him for over a week at that time and I was beginning to worry, and as soon as I remembered the dream, after he texted me, I gave him the details. I did not understand that it was a prediction then, and that a little excuse for walking away was all that he needed. We had a little, insignificant quarrel, and he milked the argument so much that my heart lost its perkiness.

Nine months after, just when I thought that I had moved on, that my soul was healed and I was free, although I had occasionally, very intensely hoped that he would text me, I saw him again. It looked like a children’s program was being held at the church. I sat and waited for him in one of the seats at the back, and I saw him pass me by. He did not notice me.

He looked very sad, and his hair was so full and unkempt. I had never seen that much hair on his head. I watched him sit on one of the chairs at the front of the hall. I wanted to walk over to him to say hello but I could not. In the first few dreams, I did the talking. In all the other ones, neither of us spoke to the other. I only watched him and hoped that he would talk to me, but that was it.

After he sat, I went over to the speaker who had the microphone and whispered something into her ears about the children she was addressing. The few sentences that I made were acknowledged- she nodded. I walked back towards my seat and out of the hall, hoping that the distraction would make him notice me. I made sure not to look at him this time.

Ileke idi

I went into a little room with a sleeping mat on it and I laid down. Immediately I dozed off, someone banged on the door. I jolted out of my sleep and screamed his name. I looked up to see if it was him, but it was not. It was my younger brother. He made fun of me the way he does every time any reference to him- the him- is made in my home.

I woke up, and asides the perspiration and tiredness that I noticed, my muscles were sore. My whole being was sore; I cried like never before.

This is me coming to terms that it is over, that he is not coming back, that I have left that church, that he does not love me as much, or at all. This is me letting go off the broken karmic tie and resigning to fate. This is me dying, accepting that my yin will never be balanced with his yang. This is me at the funeral of our attraction and love that died long ago. This is the ninth month, and when I had the dream at around 8 pm today, I birthed my stillborn.

Winslow Homer - The Gulf Stream


Love Can Now See; He Wants Everything.

"Bouquet' by an unknown artist

Love is not blind anymore;
I worry about the things he can see.
He does not want to talk some more;
he wants me in bed on three.
I consciously mask my imperfections
so he’ll choose and stay with me.
He says my boobs and butt are small;
I think about increasing them by three.
Our boat is on rough seas
but all he wants to do is flee.

He says he wants freedom, 
and she’s not me.

Requited lust.
Unrequited love.
It’s interesting how the lines between love and lust have been skewed.

26+ Questions to Consider in a Love Relationship


“Osun” [Artist Unknown]

Ask yourself these questions about your significant other:

1. Do they make me feel safe?
2. Do they make me feel anxious?
3. Do they make me feel less than they are, or do they make me feel like their equal?
4. Do they boost my self-esteem or kill it?
5. Do they make me smile or laugh?
6. Do they appreciate my talents and work, however amateur?
7. Has this person shown me that I can trust them?
8. Would I consider them a good person?
9. Are they appreciative?
10. Are they loving/caring?
11. Do they respect me?
12. Do they apologize whenever they are wrong?
13. Do they want what’s best for them, or what’s best for us?
14. Do they understand me, or have a desire to?
15. Do they want to hear me speak, and do they listen when I do?
16. Do they make plans to see me and stick to them?
17. Do we share similar values?
18. Have they hinted that they are not interested in a relationship?
19. Have I been honest with what I’m looking for in a partner?
20. Am I just lonely or do I enjoy spending time with them?
21. Do I think they’re physically attractive? Is that the only reason I like them?
22. If I was in trouble, could I call this person and ask for help?
23. Do I think he/she loves me? How have they shown it to me that they do, if they claim to?
24. Has this person physically or verbally abused me, directly or indirectly?
25. Would I trust this person to be around my children?
26. What does this person lack that I said I really wanted in a partner? Would I be okay/happy without it?

Written by Reid [] + Aderonke []


Lady Justice’s Husband


Lady Justice’s husband
is a White supremacist.
He grabs her breasts
and bites her ears,
slaps her buttocks
and wipes her tears,
tells her he loves her
and calms her fears,
and in the mornings,
she does whatever the hell
she’s asked to do.




When he ordered drinks for us,
I could tell that he was hurt.

“I’m with another woman,
an other woman,
a ‘not her’ woman,
but by God, any woman will do.”

“What do you mean?”, I asked.

He looked away.

“I couldn’t get Queen out of my head;
someone else had to.
I couldn’t get Queen out of my bed;
I needed a rescue.


The Society’s Guide to Being a Man, 101.

The only way to be a man
is to not be human.
Don’t cry;
be sad, but don’t say why.
Don’t feel;
hurting someone is the best way to heal.
Don’t express yourself when you do feel,
and if you must,
do it with clenched fists.

The only way to be seen as strong
is to insist that you’re never wrong,
and if a woman isn’t under
your absolute control,
you can’t be a man on your own-
you can’t possibly be whole.


Earth and Heaven

The earth moves,
but our place in it doesn’t change
because we move with it.

Explore the sun, my love;
chase your dreams,
but don’t leave me behind.

Be my earth.


Earth was supposed to be my resting place.
I didn’t think I deserved anyone better
till my Heaven carried me in his arms.
He placed a crown on my head
and called me his queen.



That a person has chosen to drown with you doesn’t make them your good friend. When you gasp for breath in life’s sea, the bad friends aren’t the ones who walk away, for they aren’t your friends at all. The bad friends are the ones who jump in with you when they should be pulling you out.


Do You Love Me?

I wanted you to tell me you loved me,
but you loved me because
I didn’t tell you to tell me?

You were in love with me;
you locked me in it with you,
but you hid the keys and kept to yourself.

You put a blindfold on me,
and the day I finally got it off,
your swords cut me till
I stopped trying to hold you.
Then you put the blindfold on me again,
tightened it up till I couldn’t cry or speak,
till I began to find it hard to breathe.

You were in love with me
but you were with you.
You didn’t love me because
you didn’t show me that you did.


Come Back

My fear of losing you made me lose you.
I was so afraid that you would leave me,
so much so I didn’t realize that you were here,
and that each time I pulled you closer,
it felt like a sharp push to you.
You were not here because I asked you to,
you wanted to be here.
I couldn’t make you stay,
I couldn’t make you do anything.
The only power that I had
was the power to make you leave,
and that exactly was what you did.