msnzilaninzilani-blog

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The Sequel

It’s a world’s apart from the prequel

A lot worse than the main story and full of upheaval

Like an unfinished painting sadly just left on the easel

Tried to tread slowly so we’d never make it to the sequel

But here we are. The band has finished its set, the bass guy is packing up his guitar. The room is dark and punctuated only by cigarette smoke. The bartender is picking up a few shards of glass from bottles that broke. You’re one foot out the door. The pain is unfolding from my very core. Trying to buy time but deep down I know the good part is over. You’ve chosen to roll the credits with no warning whatsoever. I cradle my chin in my hand and stare as you slowly make your exit. Everything radiating from my eyes reads desperate

But who am I to hold on to you

When all along I knew

We’d eventually make it to this awful sequel

And I’d be left here, teary eyed, knowing there would never be another refill.

[msnzilaninzilani-blog]

WanderLust:

Where do you wander off to sometimes?

And why does it feel like you’re off committing the same crimes?

Lowering your expectations like a set of broken wind chimes

Fighting desperately against paradigms

Trying to shift what you know damn well will one day kill you

Cause it doesn’t make you stronger to keep trying to slip through

The fading dimension of all the years, tears, and fears that have served to

Bring you back to familiar territory reminding you of truths you always knew

Like the fact that this never ends well

That heartbreak is not one to ring the doorbell

Your partner in crime will soon trip you up then ask you why you fell

Then just like the rest of them

Taking after the best of them

He’ll leave you at the doorstep of your delusions

Knife in your back, left to draw all of the same conclusions

  So again I ask you my love, where are you wandering to this time?

Can’t you just stay here with me for a little while?

It’s wretched for the most part…cold and lonely but I gather that’s just your style

[msnzilaninzilani-blog]

letter to my ex man,-THANK YOU FOR BEING A LESSON INSTEAD OF A MISTAKE. To say it was painful is an understatement. To say that you hurt me is an even bigger understatement. The truth is, if you had left a dozen stab wounds on my body, the way you did to my mind and heart, you would be imprisoned but no one ever imprisons anyone for the near-fatal crime of breaking someone’s heart. It took me years to get over you. It took me days to simply pull myself together and lead a normal life. It took so long that the pain began to feel like second nature to me, it began to feel like it was consumption rather than just heartbreak. And still, as I sit here writing this, I want to say thank you. You were the universe’s present, wisdom in the form of a human, sent to me at just the right time, to tell me how much I need to evolve and grow and become someone who I am proud of. I needed to have my heart broken this badly. I needed to be hurt this much to know how deeply I feel, how much I truly can love. I needed to breathe and feel the pain to this extent. You gave me this and for that I am forever grateful. You have changed me as a human, fundamentally and forever. So wherever you are, despite the pain you caused me, I hope nothing but the best for you. I want to thank you for the heartbreak. I want to thank you for being a lesson to me in so many ways. I want to thank you for the damage you did to me. Because without that damage I do not think I would be the very best version of me. The me I see and feel today.

Nikita Gill, Thank You For Being A Lesson Instead Of A Mistake (via meanwhilepoetry)

[msnzilaninzilani-blog]

AIN’T NO ONE DULL YO SPARKLE

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may told me in the very dirt,

But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides

Just like hopes springing high

Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops,

Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I’ve got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the hurts of history’s shame 

I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain

I rise

I’m a black ocean,leaping and wide

Welling and swelling I bear in the  tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror

And fear, I rise

Into a daybreak that’s 

Wondrously clear I rise

Bringing the gifts that my 

Ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope

Of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

[msnzilaninzilani-blog]

NZILANI JANET PERSONAL FEELS

Not only do I not want to be stereotyped as this African girl who believe in Life ramblings, what a wonder - but also, I have more to offer than that.  

I'm just totally into being strong. There's something about wanting to get a jar or whatever out of a high cupboard, or moving a sofa over because my dog's bone rolled under it, and not having to call anyone for help. There's comfort in that. 

My manager's biggest dream is for me to be in office on time. He says, 'Oh, Nzilani, will you promise me you'll be on 'time?' What can I say? I just tell him I can't promise, but I'll try my best…. I don’t like office job anyways. 

I, Nzilani, personally cannot tell you that you're going to save the planet. But what I do know is that we can draw a line to an issue that can conserve what we already have and what's left in a way that we can actually breathe the air, drink the water, actually grow things in soil - that matters in a real, practical way. 

I don't think because it's an hour of your Thursday night rather than an hour and a half of your weekend that you should be gypped at all in quality.

I enjoy privacy. I think it's nice to have a little mystery. I think because of technology a lot of the mystery is gone in life, and I'd like to preserve some of that.

Women tend to take care of men a lot, but I like a guy who balances that out and takes care of me, too. It feels golden, you know...

When a man leaves you notes saying he loves you, or asks how your day was - and then listens - you feel special. 

The best relationships are when you both want to make each other happy - you buy the groceries, I do the dishes.

Lastly, if I were invisible, I would spy on people. And if I were to choose a job, I would choose been a private investigator, and if I were to choose doing what I love, I would be a full-time actress (there is beauty in been able to live other people’s life. it’s called acting!

[msnzilaninzilani-blog]

That one bad guy!

No it had to be him, it can not be them!

[msnzilaninzilani-blog]

OnceAndFutureKing

Everything seems opposite

my heart want this

my mind portrays that

Eyes closed image seem clear

Only appear blurred when we look

A trick between mind and heart

Just like fairy-tale and reality

We understand

But we fully don't understand

Though, we blinded but I thought you already know

I don't trust any conceivable version of us.

Sometimes life makes sure I'd never trust us.

See, fate has taught me to put my trust in the fog.

To inhale and breath in the smog.

To thrive in the midst of darkness and uncertainty.

To make past and present  pain the basis of my identity.

That's why this space is the only place I can exist authentically.

So sorry I make it a habit to blame our hearts and mind.

I just don't trust the lame realities and you in mind.

And besides, we both know we're the two sides of the coin...

You're at peace around me

I'm at peace around you...

We opt only to close our eyes to get our image clear ;)

*TheOnceAndFutureKing *TheOnceAndFutureQueen TALES