I slipped into 2021 frail. For a better phrase: grey or something close. Like they say; we don’t look like our struggles for a good reason only God knows best.
Imagine waking up hopeful only to be met with the most unexpected disappointment to begin the year.
In love one moment, the next uncertain and lost
If Life would give me flowers each time I dedicated my heart to honour, love and respect the people, places and things he placed in my direction, I should have a farm yard housing them every season..
A series between the shadow of doubts of rights and wrongs, maybes and should haves but cannot. Grey is that situation certainly everyone knows her but never fully does. She’s as unflinching as she comes yet you’d experience her like she sought your permission to be here!
This is grey!
I know I’m healing or so my mind makes me believe, at places I thought otherwise. I will definitely heal this one too
Time kept ticking, work kept piling, weddings didn’t cease and nothing’s changed!
Loosing my mind was the least of my worries. What could be worst than living?
The woman I loved and honored didn’t recognize her baby on the yearly routine we were meant to give her flowers; neither the man I met and the space I owned.
This was grey!
But who told you?
Who told you adulthood made everything clearer?
Who told you greying made you any wiser?
Who told you clocking 30 would have you owning mansions and placements well deserving of the days you’ve lived on this planet?
We’re messier from childbirth until death, that we’ve supposedly come to terms with the journey of living, fighting, struggling, mending, and piecing our brokenness together every time of the day!
We’re laborers and tillers until the creator decides whose time it’s next to take up the challenge
Do your best!
