nyasha-muganiwa

[nyasha-muganiwa]

___<>___

words cannot describe the world in my mind. the pain of watching what i made—soft, kind, and warm—turn into something that scares me. i fear the hurt i give myself. i try to make gentle things, but they break anyway. i try to heal, but even that becomes heavy. everything i touch changes, even the good things. i don’t know if i’m helping myself or making it worse. i just keep going, even when it hurts. i want peace, but i don’t know how to hold it. still, i try again, hoping this time it stays kind. look at me and understand.... i must keep going. i must keep pushing.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

__<>__

i compare my love to the vast skies—how they fold and roll endlessly above, dressed in royalty, dressed in blue. my love is the sky, and i the clouds, drifting through the cathedral of his calm. he is endless, and i am always becoming, shaped by his breath, stirred by his silence. i am the hush before rain, the silver ache that clings to his chest. without him, i dissolve into nothing. within him, i have form. sometimes i come gentle, like lace and lullaby; sometimes i break open with thunder in my throat. and still, he holds me—vast, unshaken. i burn in the dusk just to feel him. he is the breath before stars, the stillness that waits for my storm. i move through him in longing, in light, in silence. i am the cloud that breaks open just to be seen. look at me and understand. what is love, if not the ache of belonging to something so endless, you forget where you end.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

○¿?¿○

who am i. a swinging door. i tend to worry a lot. doubts creep in like weeds, aiding in on the growing frustration in my head. who am i. falling leaves. problems always arise. issues never fail to make their way to the doorstep of my mind. i grab a fist full of my hair and scream. who am i. a gust of wind. it is cold, and blows straight into my soul, carrying in another problem. my heart pounding, and my hands sweating. please help me. who am i. two left feet on the dance floor. the peaceful sight of life is distant to me. all i know is worry and pain. who am i. a hopeless case. surrounded by love, providing it too but never once receiving it in full. genuinely. who am i. everyday an eclipse. the sun shines high above, its rays sparkling for all to see. but all i ever experience is the dark and cold of night. who am i. trapped and alone. feeling separated, sinking into a dark hole, when really i'm right here. again, who am i. look at me and understand... really, who am i.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

----||----

i walked down a familiar path, staring up at old trees and at the flowers fading, listening to the birds that sang a sad song. i found it hard to appreciate the beauty i had gotten used to. to me, it all seemed to be fading away. i walked upon a familiar path sighing, but i kept going. the path was all i knew, this path was the limit to my dreams, and deep down, i was sure that i wanted more than just dirt paths and fading flowers. the roads that crissed and crossed around my own made me wonder if it wasn't such a bad idea to wander off and merge into something new. maybe then i could find what my heart desired. even with the conflicts of each day, my mind holds a special thought, the desire to do something beyond the ordinary. but, pray tell, how can i do so if my eyes are fixed on a familiar path. it's warm there, it's comfortable. and so, i find myself walking on it, day in and day out as though without a moment's doubt. i could shift the blame to the universe or sit and blame the stars but first place prize goes to myself. look at me and understand.... i hate the familiar path.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

^¿¿¿^

what is the rule of life. that standard. the norm. is it the quiet, unspoken, learn by watching type of life. wake up early, work hard, smile just enough. always reach for success. that money, status, and a tidy house. the type where we dream, but not too wildly, where we're kind, never soft and strong, but surely not strange. society nods its old head when you follow, but frowns when you stray. the norm is a polished mask, worn daily. but truth hums beneath it— not all lives fit this mold. maybe no life should. so what is the real rule of life. that standard. the norm. it's to live what feels true, not what looks right. look at me and understand... there is no rule, live for you.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

^●●^

the windows to the soul tell a fascinating story. with every blink, they speak a different language, that of the wonders one may never dream to imagine. words spoken sometimes never bring justice to their true shine and sometimes cannot fully describe the amount of joy or sadness that lies behind those bright balls of starlight. the eyes tell an intriguing story. they are always quick to speak before any form of speech can describe the situation experienced. they are quite deep, deeper than the ocean. if one gazes for too long they're prone to fall in. it is indeed difficult to find your way out. as lovely as they may seem, they also hold a great deal of rage, sorrow and disappointment. but that's a story for another day. oh what are we without these beauties, somewhat like polished jewels. look at me and understand...stare me straight in the eyes and they will reveal to you everything.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

-■●■-

there are many difficult things in life, like climbing mountains, swimming through lava and breathing underwater...but nothing beats a heart that longs for another. the warmth grows but fades with time. bittersweet. it moans and groans in pain, but the discomfort is the recharge that makes one whole again. a longing glance at their other, but indifferent in making a move. one leg drenched in the ocean, the other running to the sand. just the thought of it all is perplexing, bewilding. upsetting. yet in the midst of it all the heart desires its other, and it knows not what to do. there are many difficult things in life, like climbing mountains, swimming through lava and breathing underwater...but nothing beats a heart that longs for another. look at me and understand...it yearns more for the one it let go.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

••♤••

the roads criss and the paths cross but they always lead me to you. day changes its shift to night, but the light twinkles and shows me straight to you. it's cold outside but the thought of you is a fire that brings warmth to me, it comforts me. surely i've lost my mind, my heart too. both safely in your hands. so now i know, that even in the coldest winter, or the harshest storm i have someone with me. look at me and understand...with you, i'm never alone.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

□^^^□

disappointments are the leaves that descend slowly from a great big tree. rustle, crunch, whisper. oh how will i recover the loss, how will i endure the pain. the truth lies in how there is no true remedy for the heartache that comes from broken anticipation and crushed dreams. life must go on. leaves must fall and winter must come to stay for there to be bigger opportunities in tomorrow. smooth sailing and easy progress exist only in the fairy tales that make our days bearable. they sure do comfort me. disappointments are the leaves that descend slowly from a great big tree. rustle, crunch, whisper. oh how will i recover the loss, how will i endure the pain. look at me and understand...take a deep breath, you'll be alright.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

~|||~

advancing uphill is a dream. i lay down and shut my eyes, recessing and resting, allowing the darkness to consume and teleport me far and beyond. i try hard to battle the voices lodging in my head. the ones that make it a habit to converse with me at peculiar times. i finally escape the blackhole, after what feels like an eternity, and my mind seems to be transported to a place it's always wanted to show me. my dream is up a hill, where everything i've wanted, everything i've imagined, everything i've longed for is right up the last step. a stairway to heaven. i try my best to calm my racing heart but it beats louder and faster, a heavy rhythm i yearn for. my lips instinctively part into a smile, my hands collecting sweat. i even felt a little shake run down my spine, but not the bad kind, just a happy nervous one. i gaze around me and take in what i've always wanted but underneath the sweaty palms and loud beating is a cold and hollow heart, a strange feeling. is what i claim i've always wanted really the dream or am i stuck as an unblooming flower in a dream i cannot wake up from. look at me and understand...am i just imagining the dream.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

☆~~~☆

if memories are the wind, then may my days be stormy ones. let me welcome the breeze that comes from far and converse with it of its distant travels and tales. allow it to brush against my cheeks tenderly, and whisper the secrets of old. let it call upon its allies and shake more than just the leaves, but allow me to reminisce on my happiest moments, those sweet and fresh echos, so that i may hold on dearly to them, as they are etched straight into my heart. let the emotions swept in from those days be the little raindrops. small and trivial in bits, but a brutal downpour when joined as one. allow me to relive those days, and feel them once more, drenched from head to toe. watch me laugh and play as the wind blows now away. i want to live in yesterday. where the days were sunnier and the songs catchier, where the scents stuck to you and the sky was always blue. let these memories replay like my favourite song, a seemingly endless storm. and may those preying birds and stressful days find no peace stuck in their nests, so that i may find serenity in frozen time. look at me and understand...indeed the best moments are yet to come, but for now blow me down memory lane.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

•••♧•••

for all her life she searched the globe for a strong steady tree, but found instead a flower on gardened ground. its petals looked downcast, withering away and drooping in great devastation. she observed the flower day and night, captivated by its distinctiveness. that beauty that lay beyond those sad eyes and small smiles. the little flower grew content on dry ground, being set alight by the hot sun, it seemed to cry out for help. around her were many little plants and flowers who generously offered her rest from the search. many that smiled brightly and assured her. but her heart begged her to follow it back to the edge of the garden, where everyday she'd water and fertilise the little flower. her mind worked on its own, doing what it thought best. it ignored the signs even though it knew not to lean on its own understanding. her hands worked quicker than the sun's rays. the rain, astonished by how quick she would water the flower before it did. she shielded the little plant from anything and everything, claiming it as her own. until one day she stood back and watched. how sad the flower looked. its petals dangled and bowed. before she could attempt a new strategy, a hand held her own. she looked up and met the gaze of the greenskeeper. at that moment she fathomed that what she wanted, what she assumed, and what she thought she understood mattered not, because that little flower was not her own. look at me and understand...dear little flower, i'm so very sorry.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

"I wish bad days didn't exist, and that we were stuck in a tunnel with our best memories behind every door. Where the hardest decision is picking our favourite candy and what show to watch. I wish hugs were as common as the notifications on our phones and that all we could do all day is laugh and smile. But everyday is sadder than before, every conversation a bicker. The sun has set and I'm sitting cross legged under a blanket of stars. Tomorrow will be better, fingers crossed"

Had to add a little something...

By Me

“The worst thing in the world can happen, but the next day the sun will come up. And you will eat your toast. And you will drink your tea.”

— Rhian Ellis

[nyasha-muganiwa]

<3 <3 <3

a proud man can strut into the room, and claim the power of the sun, but deep down, his spirit i compare to the moon. its light shines with less excellence than that of the sun, but it is radiant nonetheless. that kind of power has a more subtle authority and impact. a presence that indeed exists but should not be spotlighted incase of a backlash. a feared rebellion. that's the proud man. we shouldn't acknowledge his shine, we cannot. even if he's destined for the noon time dazzle, golden crown and blazing embraces from all of us, i dare show him the moon. let him shine but in the unlit and cold spaces. let him work but a little harder than most, until his blood, sweat and tears become his daily bread. that once easy ground now cursed for adam, and now him too. let him work hard for all his life, the dust in his eyes clouding his now and tomorrow, but his persistence i respect. dust all over his work no matter how hard he tries to polish it off, scrape it off. he was made from dust, not the rays of the sun. a proud man can strut into the room and claim the power of the sun, but deep down, his spirit i dare compare to the moon. look at me and understand...what great power the moon holds.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

《●○●》

the sky is a fortune teller and i, an eager audience. it uses colours to predict and hypnotise, so i can compare life to its mysterious faces. the highs are the colours that strip and dance between the clouds. very rare. the reds and oranges and pale peaches are the rise of my kingdom, the years of plenty. that burning passion to pursue and gain interest. curiosity prevails. i can describe it as red hot, its flames are my hope for more light. however, change does occur and when we're forced to embrace it with a smile the colour turns purple, accompanied by pale blues and greys. they represent the moment of uncertainty, can we really hold on any longer. the lagging consistencies, the silent screams and fear-filled bravery. we look to life to teach us how to swim, but we're pushed into the deep-end too soon, gasping desperately for air. learning about life is fun and games until the blues turn dark and the bright shine is replaced by darkness. the sun and all her light pales, they flee quickly, and you're left alone in what feels like a black hole. your heart stops fluttering like it used to and turns hard. everything around you feels cold and bitter and the silence pierces through. it's louder than bombs. and you sit and wonder of the seasons, their rise and fall. the sky is a fortune teller and i, an eager audience. look at me and understand, the more i watch the less eager i am of tomorrow.

[nyasha-muganiwa]

---^^^---

i've always loved the sea. how the water playfully draws back in forth. like my thoughts. the shore is dry, freshly baked and sun-kissed, but only for a second. that calm, serene and chill atmosphere is quickly washed away by the little waves that can't help but run around and rain on my parade. it's a back and forth game, an "i'll never do it again, lol" type of relationship that can drive any sane man to the edge of a cliff. the swooshing, splashing gurgling sweeps straight through the silence, cutting deep into the heart as the noises get louder and louder, disrupting the peace. i push my fingers deeper into my ears, but the sounds seep through. as they always do. i'm at my limit. so then, this is what drowning feels like. look at me and understand...my thoughts are the waves

[nyasha-muganiwa]

^___^

i would pat her a little head and tell her nothing at all. only the wind knows how hard it can blow. and deep deep down, i know that it won't really be okay and that i would be lying if i were to say so. i would just take her hand and squeeze it a little bit and stay right by her side. goodness knows she craves that attention. we'd let the silence speak for us, no words to limit us. the tears would linger in our lashes, but they would never dare to spill, of course they wouldn't. even the ocean can go so far. but then i'd ask her how she's doing, maybe even crack a joke or two, to let those happy tears flow. no one's made her laugh in a while, always the bridesmaid never the bride. i would keep holding her hand and tell her to be happy. i'd tell her that life isn't short at all, that the days might seem so but that life is pretty long. and boring, and sad. but i'd tell her to hang in there, and hold on extra tight for today too. i would tell her about the string of hope i found in my heart, not about how small and fragile it looked, but how powerful it was. i'd tell her to look at the sky more often, to admire its beauty and even the falling rain. and how that heavy feeling probably won't go away for another day, or week, or month or even year, but that one day, that special day, will come riding on a white horse just for her. she is worth it, and so am i. look at me and understand...hello little me.