Heyy Gem, welcome to February! My blogging break ends today! 2019 was a very creative year for me and progressive career wise. But also very hectic. I entered 2020 mentally exhausted. Although I published 3 flash stories I kept off my Instagram and WordPress.
This rest was needed. Apart from work and CDS stress; I’ve had time to introspect, reflect, do aromatherapy, rest and recharge. I’d have added tranquility but my neighbors dozen peacocks interrupt the silence with loud gawking, moans and scraping sounds. Hopefully I’ll introduce some of them to you.
I got out of my reading slum 2 days ago with Chef Cutegirl by Nicolette Dane. I’ve missed enjoying reading so I was delighted. I’d love to do a Life Update/ January Recap post. I’m still at Umuahia, Abia state for NYSC. Head over to my instastory to vote which post you want next!
Today I launched my Podcast, Call ‘it’ Something 🥳 Our first episode- MOVING IN TOGETHER is live. Here Mo and Amethyst discuss sex, relationships and self as a Queer woman living in Nigeria. I’m a co-host and we have biweekly episodes.
Give us a listen here! Get tips to help you decide to cohabit with your partner while maintaining your individuality.
Every time I hold back from giving love my body cramps. Each breath I take hurts.
You don’t reciprocate my efforts. Monotonous ‘I love yous’.
The cramps hurt my heart, in my womb, everywhere. But its the only way I stop the resentment.
Hold back. Hurt.
I should say, ‘I release you’ like Carol.
But I’d rather cry about our dying love and constantly check for double blue ticks and missed calls.
Why can’t you just let me mourn in peace. Let me go. Since you refuse to leave. Let me go.
Release me. I’m hurting
Click the image above to download this free wallpaper.
You cover the plant watering bottle. Your glittering fingernail glide through the golden palm leaves. With a loud sigh you sit beside the plant pot and sip pink yoghurt.
Questions float around with Cigarettes after Sex tunes.
Where do you go after love stops growing?
Were his ‘I love you’ convincing because they are true? Or do you really want to believe him? So your faith makes it true.
You sip and lick the silky sweetness. These questions pound your head, ache your heart for answers.
I’m lying on a new plush bed
in my warm room decorated as an
aroma therapeutic shrine
highlighted in soft golden glow.
Now, to pump up the music,
wear my crotchless lace thong,
drip cool watermelon lube,
make earth vibrating love to myself.