Month: March 2018

Be my Delilah.

Next Saturday was his wedding! Keep me in the dark, save me from unknown pains, we were never meant to be.
I am done with free fucks, reborn maybe or a different way of fucking freely: holding me.

Pizza and iPhones and Prophets and shit!

I met Stephen at an outlet cafe, lets go to a nearby pizza hut, “I swear you will like it”. The shorts I wore was an old Jean that was ripped at one end, In Nigeria, they are male tailors who move with the head of a sewing machine, hitting a metallic scissors indicating their presence with every hit, they mend torn clothes, I had torn worn out Jean, I needed them.

I hate yellow and rules.

I watch my mother scream and nag at me for disobeying a rule she so long protected, rules are regulations, law or maybe guidelines. A regulating principle, something that keeps you in order.