Dear 2023

Dear 2023

    Sigh, 

   With no excitement you came, unlike all the years I left behind, they bore good news, prayers, Families...

Goods news turned bad,

Prayers went unanswered,

Some families died,

And hopes faded.

   Now, all that's left is me and you, though I'm not sure I'm still me, because. 

  There's a change in the girl I used to know,

She's now dancing in the fire,

Smiling with coals on her palms,

Writhing inside.

It comes and goes, like waves,

Her emotions. And she watches how she endures and glides through pain, like a robot designed to feel nothing.

   Wish I had a lot to say about the things I have learnt now, in 15 days the resolutions are faded in blues,

What did I say I'd do?

Some dreams are forgotten,

New ones etched on the plate of my heart,

Call it passion.

Sigh sigh,

   Now I walk everyday with songs roaming in my head, craving to be sung, but I've gone silent a while ago. 

Remember when I was broken?

Every pieces of my humble heart casted off because they can't be put together.

Forgive me if I'm heartless.

   I have penned down obituaries for relationships that longer exist, writing to get catharsis off my mind and constantly to prove to myself that I'm still alive, I'm not dead yet.

I poured out my grief in bold and black letters,

Ones you cannot understand.

I'll write a song, one day.

   And though I tell myself this isn't poetry for my grief, but we all know poetry is a medium to spell pain in bold letters.

Politely,  

    I hope, this be my last obituary beacuse the relationships are now dead and far gone.

I hope I create something that outlives me, etch my name in truth and one day, wear many crowns.

So, be a good year.

    This isn't a wish or a bucket list.

I know my future is in my hands, but you have a role to play,

Keep the bad guys away from me,

Let my words run so swift that I become queen of them all, 

When I fall, keep me close to the father's house, so that I might see his outstretched arms and hear his calm voice.

Let today be better than the days I've left behind.

      When I fall prey to wolves in sheep clothing, do not put me to sleep in never land. 

Guide my heart so there be no love that breaks it again.

Teach me to run to the place of prayer, seeking the peace I have now traded with fear.

And if there's no one to answer when I hit the door, fill me again with hope that I tarry longer at the door.

Until the day I'll say goodbye, fare me well.

Abieber.

©Abibat Mulero