The Dream Collector: A Dance With Ghosts

 

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My head was as heavy as the bag I toted on my back, as I rowed upstream into the dazzling golden sunset.
The past hour still seemed surreal to me. It was almost unreal, when the shaman and the Oracle passed a blessing over my head and handed me a very small bag, that could fit in the palm my hand. They gave me the instructions clearly; go to every hut, pick up the dream catchers and say the simple blessings “may the good come true and the evil turn to dust.”
No dream catcher should be left untouched
Emptying the dream catchers was nothing short of frightening. Dreams manifested in front of my eyes, monsters baring their teeth, ready to rip me apart. I also witnessed broken hearts,Dreams dashed on hopeless conditions or parents’ careless words. I saw the good and bad of our lives, as reflected through the thoughts of the my people. We were all yearning for something, we just don’t know what. We all needed something more and didn’t realise the cry of our hearts. How do you begin to say you want more, when you don’t know what more is.
I wasn’t disappointed to find hot tears streaming down my face, as I rowed into the amber light of the sunset.

Rowing upstream wasn’t easy. My arms grew weary against the strong current of the river, as I pushed myself forward, weighed down by the hopes of so many people. I watched the sun make its steady descent into the horizon, casting first an amber glow, then a ruby red and finally the settling in of indigo, as shadows spread across the land. I had been instructed to row, until the moon was high in the sky, providing a different type of light. Despite the pain in my arms and the growing discomfort in my chest, I continued to push, allowing the black night to envelope me.

Before long, the moon rose, casting a silver touch to the night. I looked ahead of me, and all I saw was the clear water. Despite the pain in my arms and the growing discomfort in my chest, I continued to push, allowing the black night to envelope me.

Before long, the moon rose. Casting a silver touch to the night. I looked ahead of me, and all I saw was the water, looking like black glass, shattered only by the periodic splash of my oars.
The air around me was silent and heavy. There was no sound of any animals and yet I felt like I was being watched. The more I rowed, the more tires I became. My arms were heavy, and my breathing came in short gasps.
I knew this feeling very well; my illness had come back to haunt me.
With all the effort I could muster, I steered the canoe to the closest bank, struggling against the current. Maybe it was luck on my side or I was stronger than I knew but after a long time, I felt the crunch of river rocks on the bottom of the boat.
I was covered in a sheen of sweat and I had begun to cough feebly. I dragged myself out the boat and settled in the mud.
This was the end. No heroic ending. No lesson to be learnt. Just an ill fated vessel for the plans of the Oracle. I pulled the bag of dreams close to me. I mayn’t have died a hero, but at least I could be a dream. Floating in the air and settling in people’s heads as a distant memory; someone that they used to know.

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Enfin – the Mercury Tapes

cuddles

photo via Pinterest.

Please don’t make me say I’m in love
Don’t pin me down
And make me look
Into your eyes
Because in them
I find a vast and lush
Garden.

I can stop,
Let the atmosphere surround me
Fill me up
From the inside out
And purge myself of
Guilt and hurt.

I can reclaim my innocence
And offer it to you
Continuously.

I can take off my shoes
And allow you to see me,
I can hide behind a glass
And be a nobody.

I need this sanctuary,
Watered and cultivated
By the fibre of our beings

I find myself

Stripping off my clothes,
And laying bare and free
I put on freedom instead,
And let it encompass my body

I turn away from the rage
Of this broken world

And step into the tranquility
Of our personal shell.
Just you and I
Our bodies
Our auras
Intertwined and intermingling,
Creating a storm
In the middle of my being
And erupting in
Rosy pleasure.

Painting this once blank canvas
Floral hues
patterns of rainbows
And motifs of flowers.

My world has reduced
To this place
And we’ll explore
Every inch of it
Touch corners of our souls
That we didn’t know could exist
Breath air into lungs
That were before now
Dead.
Caress and awaken
A carnal desire,
A deeper knowledge
A fuller taste
A better understanding of ourselves.
Of you and me
And us,
Dancing together
On these clay floors
Being separate
And yet being one

I allow myself to rest,
Deep in your garden.
My sanctuary

The Dream Collector: Beyond The Night

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For the first time in my life, I woke up without feeling any pain. To my surprise, I could even stand up. And I walked into the outer room of the hut. The sunlight streamed through the windows, flooding the small house with warmth. Unsurprisingly, The Oracle was already at home. My mother sat coldly on the other side of the room, and interestingly enough, my father was around. He looked at me, with eyes filled with a plethora of emotion. Half pride, half a deep sadness.
“My son,” he said, coming forward. He held in his arms, and for a moment I was the little boy that used to play on the banks of the river, before everything changed.
The moment passed briefly, and I was back to being the perpetually sick young man. I sighed audibly. The Oracle stood up and signaled for me to follow me. I grasped my father’s hands and looked him solemnly in the eye.
He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped halfway, leaving the moment thick with suspense and unsaid words.
I followed the Oracle, who walked really fast for someone of his age. He swooped through the village, striking the ground with his staff to shoo young children out the way. Most of the older kids would scurry away fearfully, trying to avoid the wrath of the oldest man in the village. Before long, we had reached the end of the village. There were two large huts and one incredibly tiny one. The Shaman stood in front of the small hut, his long robes billowing gently in the wind.
“Welcome son,” he said brightly. The Oracle scoffed and disappeared into one of the larger huts.
“There’s a cleansing ritual you need to go through.” The Shaman explained, gesturing towards the small hut. “The Last Day of The Year falls in two days, so it’s imperative that this is done.”
“What happens if I don’t?” I asked curiously.
“The weight of your own dreams will be too heavy for you to bear, how will you carry the hopes and fears of others?”
I thought back to all the nightmares I had before, fearing that each of the monsters in my head would manifest physically.

Out of nowhere, the Oracle loomed behind me and pushed me violently into the tiny dark hut. I tumbled headlong into the confined space and took a few minutes to sort out my bearings.
When I’d finally distinguished up from down, I sat. The first thing I thought of was home. It made me sad to realize that the only thing I knew about home was my bed by the little window, watching the villagers go past, living lives in which they were fully independent. The next thing I thought of was my father. I was somewhat amazed to find that we were the same height. My legs didn’t work the way they should have, but they reached the length they were supposed to. Perhaps they would become even longer. I couldn’t tell. I remembered the calloused grip of my father’s hands. Hands that never taught me anything, but to cover my mouth when I cough and to clap my gratitude for small kindnesses. My father nurtured my mind though. He helped me stretch my imagination far beyond my legs that didn’t work and out of the small window. My imagination stretched further than the river and far beyond the mountains. I often dreamt of a country, where of course I was fully well, that I roamed and called my own. I wasn’t a fisher man however, I was a farmer. Or maybe even a scribe or a student of law. I could anything.

As time drew on, I became accustomed to the dark. The time seemed to stretch forever, and I was beginning to wonder of the Last Day of The Year had come at all.

After a very long time, a sliver of light shine through a small gap in the darkness. I squinted at it, as I watched it grow larger before it was momentarily blocked by a small figure. I felt a wizened hand grab mine in the half dark and I realized it was the Oracle.

“Do you want me to follow you?” I asked the Oracle. The Oracle scoffed softly and I realized with embarrassment that he couldn’t talk. “I.. I’m sorry, I..I didn’t think.” I stammered hurriedly.
“As a matter of fact,” the Oracle said, ” I do want you to follow me. Just not right now.”

“wait,” I was awestruck. “You can talk?”
This time the Oracle laughed. It was a deep laugh.
“Of course I can, I just choose not to.” His voice was gravelly and his breath laboured. He spoke slowly as if each word was precious, and he had to weigh them all out.
“You’ve done well, my son.” He said. Even in the half dark, I could hear the earnestness in his voice
“All I did was sit the dark,” I chuckled.
“For two days, alone with all your thoughts. Many wouldn’t have lasted.”
“It’s the Last Day of the Year?” I felt my heart fall. A very small part of me had hoped it was all a joke but a stronger part of me knew it was as real as life itself.
“We must go now.” The Oracle said. The hut was plunged momentarily into darkness once more and then flooded with glorious sunshine.

I crawled out the hut and stepped out into the light. Judging by the weak rays of the sun, it was still early morning. The town was already decorated with bright streamers on the huts. The women set out all their lanterns and were polishing and shining them one last time, before they put their festive candles in. The young girls were all in the midst of cooking one thing or another, the air was thick with the aroma of baking cakes and frying chickens. The young men did not go fishing on this day, they instead mended their nets and roasted the fish they had caught the day before. But all these were just a backdrop. For me, the dream catchers stood out starkly. Fluttering unassumingly on the porches of homes, heavy and weighed down by the dreams and hopes of all the town.

The Shaman strode out to meet me. He wore a huge smile on his face, and clapped my back heartily. “Get ready, the festival will begin soon,” he smiled at me, before steering me in the direction of their bathroom. Two days in a hot hut can make you smell quite funky.

After cleaning myself up, the Shaman and Oracle led me to where the festivities were being held. before everyone cleared off into their houses to close off the year, the whole village came together in the village square. food was passed around, the young ladies danced and for the afternoon, the village was happy. Eyes passed over me unassumingly. It was the first festival I had attended in years. Most people did not even recognize me. Presently, the Shaman stood up. Silence settled unevenly over the crowd. Finally as the last baby was cooed gently to quietude, the Shaman begun to tell stories. He weaved worlds with his words, constructed dreams and restructured nightmares. He spoke into existence our history and it almost seemed as if the characters in his accounts were alive and walking amongst us. Then he went silent. A chilly wind rippled through the crowd, and a sombre silence, as dense and heavy as death.

“We must go now.” the Shaman said shakily. He cleared his throat and said in a stronger voice. ” Hang out your dream catchers, for we can not move forward with the weight of the past holding us back. We remember, but we do not dwell.”

Perhaps my eyes were playing tricks on me, but suddenly the sky seemed a bit darker. Mothers scooped their infants up and scolded the ones that lagged behind. Fathers held onto their daughters hands and guided the steps of their wives. In no time, the village square was empty once more. The winds picked up speed and the temperatures dropped.

The Oracle turned towards me and put his wizened hands on my shoulder. “Your hour has come.”

Too Quiet and Way Too Far Away – The Mercury Tapes

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Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

I want love.
That explosions in your tummy
Love.
That burn your house down after we argue love
And make out in
Lonely parking lots.
I wanna light fires with you
Scream curses at the lightning
In the midst of the storm.
I want to unchain myself
Run free and tumble
Down hills.
I want explosions in my brain,
Sparks in my heart.
I want raw love

I’m just kidding.

I want the kind of love
Where I can hold your hand
And know that
My life is falling into place love
I want the kind of love where
I can trust you without fear
And lose my shell
Completely.

I want the love that
Takes a sledgehammer
And smashes down the concrete wall
I’d systematically
Put up around my heart
And around my brain

I want love where
You’re pulling me
Out of the rain
And helping me get dry.

But I am still standing in the rain.

Lighting flashes before my eyes
Illuminates
The sadness that I am.

My heart is still cold,
And ashes are scattered
In the fire place,

I want that love.

Across The Air – The Mercury Tapes

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Across the air.

I giggle and somehow, your hand is in mine.

And the tone is set.

I can’t dance; I have two left feet!

So, I look at you.

And you’re more than looking at me,

You’re looking through me.

I follow your steps,

I allow you to guide me,

I let you carry me through

And own this dance.

And yet we stop.

Because you want to know

When I will claim this dance

As my own,

But the truth is

I am wholly afraid of falling

It doesn’t overshadow

My love for you,

But they are two entities,

Side by side

Stealing from each other

And feeding each other.

And now you’ve let go.

I am standing awkwardly,

My hands intertwining patterns

With my fingers.

Don’t let them see me cry.

Floodgates hold back

An avalanche of everything.

Through the hazy mist,

I see you hold out your hand

You smile and say

Lets try.

 

The Mercury Tapes – Conceptualizing

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I am living on borrowed time

Hush, smoke your cigarette, grind it to dust and ash
and lets live here,
in the moment.
Life doesn’t begin, reminiscing on the death it has not experienced;
life doesn’t begin on a low.
so take your hat off, lay your aching back on the warm sand.

Now look at me.

There is a whole world out there
and there is everything going on between us.
I dont want to think about the future
because, it may never come.
Please don’t mention forever because I might have found it in your eyes.

I don’t know
whats going to happen
See, I am living on borrowed time.

Today will fade and next week will steal our time away.
Lay with me.
Press your body against mine.
be with me.
i know its impossible
but lets grab a hold of time

These Streets Ain’t Home No More

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Photo by Felix Plakolb on Unsplash

I leaned against the doorjamb, breathing heavily and clutching my ribs. My breathing was laboured and I fumbled for my inhaler, even though I didn’t need it. As the fear drained from my system it was suddenly replaced by anger, pure white hot anger. If I could not be comfortable here in my own street, where I had lived for the past ten years, then where on earth could I be comfortable?

“Hey ma! You wanna show me what them lips do?” he jeers, swinging drunkenly. I flip my hair and walk off, swinging my hips a little less. He grabs me and I struggle against him. It happens too slowly but too fast. People notice but no one helps. I am dehumanized, my dignity is eroded.

I laugh bitterly; I am another statistic.

Ode To My Lover: Him and Her

 

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Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

There’s something about the way
She pouts her lips defiantly
And leaves traces of her kiss
Lingering…
Or maybe it’s the flip of her hair,
As she insists she has no care
For my night time
Escapades,
She only cares for the days
When I belong to her,

But there’s something about the
Quietness
After a maelstrom
Of scarlet red anger
That fades to deep indigo sadness

It’s what we do behind the scenes
When the sheets are remade
And she momentarily puts away
Her pariah’s name
When she isn’t answering
Bottom ended calls at midnight hours

She puts on a personality
That runs deeper than the highest intimacy
She becomes a side to me
That’s better than I’ve ever known.

Maybe its in her innocence
As wet tears cling fiercely
To her eyelashes and she assures me…

Or is it the innocence I robbed?
For some fleeting passion…
A shared breath
A moment that bubbles between two lungs.

Or maybe that’s just fantasy

***
I know it’s unsustainable
I know I am not right,
But it’s more than just
The way he lays
His fingers on me
Or looks into my eyes…and smiles
See, I am enthralled by him
Wholly and Irrevocably.

Maybe it’s the way he talks
Maybe it’s the way he talks to me.

But after a hurricane
That’s coloured rainbows of emotions
I know.

I think it’s funny;
His boys told me I’m all but a
“Booty call”

The ladies call me a hoe
But I know.

I know it’s not right
And that should stop me
But as the rosary entangles in my lingerie
I shed a few tears
That paint my shame
Grey and Unspectacular
Misguided, Ill-advised.

I should know better but I don’t.

Maybe it’s just fantasy

LOCKDOWN Chapter 2

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15o23’40.97,,S, 28o1830.18,,E, Sector 15 Designated Coffee Shop. STATUS: INHABITABLE

I couldn’t help it. Every time I saw Bupe, I smiled uncontrollably. She looked stunning in a simple baby blue off the shoulder dress. Today she tamed her bouncy hair, and had it pulled back into a pony tail that exploded lush curls over her head. She was smiling too, a little bit shyly. It had been two months since we’d had a real date and three since we were intimate. Maybe today would be a good day.

“I feel like we have so much to catch up on.” I said softly. I reached out and put my hand on top of hers. She clenched her muscles slightly, but did not move her hand.

“You’re right.” She said, not quite meeting my eyes. “we need to talk.” The air seemed to settle heavily around us. Bupe opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by the loud voice of a waitress.

“can I take your order yet?” she drawled lazily.

I shifted in my seat, and nodded my ascent. “you first babe.”

She bit her lip, and I immediately knew what she would order.

“king sized fries with hot wings.” She smiled and glanced at me. It was the first meal we’d ever had together.

“uhuh,” the waitress said, taking the order. “government name?”

“9512B- XX” she said. The waitress’s eyes seemed to glaze over as she processed this information. Waitresses had been fitted with a certain software to help them know of customer’s allergies and dietary tastes. After a few seconds, the waitress turned to me.

“I’m not eating, thank you.” I smiled at her.

“come on Chabota. Just eat. You look like you haven’t had anything in ages.” Bupe said, meeting my eyes for the first time that day. I opened my mouth to protest but changed my mind halfway. I’d risk it.

“onion rings and hot wings, please. Plus, two milkshakes.’’ I said listlessly.

“okay, do the thing.” She smiled, waiting for my own ID.

“9516C-XY” I said, shifting nervously again. Moments passed by as her eyes glazed again and finally she said it.

“there’s a whole chunk of missing information.” Her voice was no longer lethargic, it was alarmed.

“I know,” I waved her off. “I was in an accident. Recovering my files was a nightmare. I hit my cerebrum” the lie was well practiced and almost believable.

“uhuh, ok.” She reverted to her usual drawl. “food’ll be out in ten.”

Bupe was looking at me, a mixture of sympathy and curiosity on her face. “this is why you hate eating out, huh?”

“yeah. If I could remember my accident it would be easier.” I lied again. I remembered everything. Silas made sure of that.

“I wonder what it feels like when you die.” Bupe whispered shakily.

“why would you think that?” I asked. ‘it’s so… messy.”

“I know. I just… you have answers for everything. I thought maybe you’d have an answer for this.” She sounded dejected.

“Bupe, is everything okay?’ I asked. I was worried that she knew something. I would have to go missing for another few months.

“yeah. I’m just tired, I guess.” She mumbled.

“okay. How’s school going?’ I asked, clutching at straws. I needed to control this conversation. As soon as I said that, my mobile flashed. It was a message from Silas. The preview read ‘shu shu shu.” I gulped uneasily, that was a sign of trouble.

“how’s school going.” I asked again, I was getting more nervous.

“I’d rather we just sat in silence, that okay?” she said. I nodded slowly. I hated to admit, I was scared. Tension clung in the air, heavily. Despite the hum of chatter in the café there seemed to be a heavy silence. As if to add more tension, my phone buzzed again.

“you can answer your phone,” Bupe said calmly. Silas had sent another message. This one simply read “run.”

“Chabota, our order is taking too long.” Bupe said suddenly. Before I could react, she was signalling for a waiter. Our waitress came back, she was wringing her hands nervously.

“it’s been 20 minutes.” Bupe huffed.

“oh, I’m sorry… I… let me just…” the waitress stammered. She walked back to the kitchen urgently.

“baby let’s just go. I’ll buy you a snack elsewhere.” I urged. My phone rang almost on cue. I silenced it and put it in my pocket.

“no, Chabota. I want to eat now.” Bupe asserted. She gave me a steely glare and then decided to focus her eyes everywhere except on me.

The waitress returned, her face tear stained this time, visibly shaken. ‘what’s wrong?” I asked.

“I’m sorry.’ She stammered before shouting, “run!”

I barely had time to react when four heavily armed police officers strode towards us.

“9516C-XY, you are under arrest.” The foremost officer said tonelessly. “you may either come with us, or do this the hard way. Anything you say can and shall be used against you.”

“where’s your search warrant?” I asked, standing up. I stepped in front of Bupe, shielding her with my body.

“we don’t need one.” An officer from the back growled at me. I slumped temporarily and turned to Bupe. She was stricken, her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly open.

“Bupe, run!” I screamed. I pulled her forward as I rushed towards the nearest exit. Suddenly I heard a loud bang, followed closely by another and Bupe’s hand slipped out of mine.

I spun around hurriedly. Dust filled the air and screams engulfed the once tense silence. My eyes scanned hurriedly for Bupe, she was cowering behind an overturned table, crying. I rushed towards her, to grab her. out of nowhere, a bullet sped right past my ear, I could feel the tingling heat still on my skin. I stumbled to the floor in shock. Before I could react, a heavy steel boot thudded right in front of my nose. I stared upwards into the rough face of the police officer.

‘that was a live bullet.” I said bitterly. I spat some blood out and watched it splatter hopelessly on the boot of the officer.

“I don’t care.” He said gruffly. I narrowed my eyes at him and moved to get up, knowing my chance of escape was limited. As I sat up I heard a small scream and what sounded like a vague struggle. Through the dust emerged another officer, pinning Bupe to his body. Her tiny frame struggled against his huge one.

“your life is forfeit, boy.” He jeered at me, “it’s either you or her.”

Suddenly the officer’s eyes went round and he crumpled to the floor; he was taken out by a perfect head shot. The other three officers followed soon after and someone grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, pulling me towards my temporal salvation. Blinded by adrenaline, I couldn’t see anything, until I was pushed into the back of an old jeep wrangler. I heard a thud as the front door slammed shut and someone spoke.

“you okay, fam?” the voice was milky and familiar. Slightly deep but very obviously female. I rubbed my eyes and sat up, gathering my bearings.

“Stephanie?!” I exclaimed incredulously. “oh, good lord.”

“in the flesh babes.” She smiled indulgently at me. I took some time to look around and realised that The Rats had assembled. We were in business and it was about to go down. Milimo sat in the front seat, typing furiously at one of his many laptops. Silas was cruising way above the speed limit and I only just noticed that Milimo was hacking all the traffic lights in the area to turn green as we approached. Stephanie was also working hard, running through codes on her smartphone, her brow furrowed in concentration.

As I sat up, Silas barked, “when I tell you to move, you move!” he whipped around and glared at me from the front seat. ‘I sent you a whole string of messages.”

“yeah, I was kinda on a date.” I sighed. “it was crazy back there, how’d you find me?”

Silas reverted his eyes to the road and huffed. “we kinda set off security services.”

“whoa! How?” I said leaning forward in my chair.

“they were bailing me out.” Stephanie chipped in. I turned to her aghast. Looking at her properly, I realised that her skin had lost some of its lustre. Her hair wasn’t as shiny and she had lost a lot weight.

I cursed softly. “where were you?” I reached out and put my hand gently on her thigh. “what did they do?”

She coughed. “remember your accident?” she looked upwards, trying to fight tears. “I had one too.”

“fuck.”  I said out loud. “how did these guys find you?”

“you’re sharing a car with the most dangerous hacker in southern Africa.” Milimo said. “apparently, I have a price on my head.”

“fuck.” I said again. “why didn’t you tell me?’ I sunk back into the chair and exhaled heavily.

“all’s fair in love and war.” Silas said grumpily. He was about to say more, when suddenly he hissed “get down you two!”

In a blur, Milimo was pushing my head down under a heavy coat, that smelt like stale weed.  Through the darkness, a small warm hand grabbed mine, it was Stephanie. I sighed and waited.

“Good evening.” I heard the oily voice of an officer say.

Milimo and Silas grunted non- committal replies.

“where are, you headed?” he asked, feigning a conversational tone.
“back home, outskirts of sector 15.” Silas said cheerfully. “my nephew has just come home from China.”

“you were studying there?” the officer said, genuinely curious.

“systems engineering,” Milimo lied easily.

The officer was quiet for a while. “be careful, there is a slight security worry here. Be home before curfew.”

I lurched forward slightly as the Jeep begun to move forward and begun to sit up. Stephanie pulled me downwards roughly.

“don’t be stupid. There’s another roadblock twenty metres ahead.” She hissed.

“how do you even know?” I mumbled angrily. She shoved her phone under my nose and I rolled my eyes.

Once again, I could hear the voices of police officers, interrogating Milimo and Silas. They stuck to their lies easily, acting like nothing was up.

“have you heard about the criminals on the loose?” the officer asked, a tad roughly. Milimo and Silas murmured their dissent, when suddenly they were being forced out the car. I heard Milimo grunt as the officer pushed him against the Jeep.

“what’s in the car?” the officer asked. Milimo’s voice was strangled as he said. “nothing.”

I felt Stephanie shift uncomfortably, I clenched her hand and held my breath.

“your coat moved.” The officer said non-commitally.

“could be a rat.” Silas grunted. The cop said something inaudible then wrenched the door open. I held by breath, hoping he wouldn’t see us in the half dark. Seconds passed by before what felt like a baton slammed heavily onto my face, several times. I bit my tongue so hard to stop from crying out I tasted blood. The officer slammed the door shut and scoffed. “probably just a rat.” He affirmed. “get out of here, fast.”

We drove for a few minutes before Milimo turned around and whipped the jacket off my face. I looked at Stephanie, she had blood all over her face and bruises across her cheekbones. I figured she’d been treated to the baton too. I pulled her close to me and closed my eyes. I needed this to all be over. I just wanted to taste peace and freedom.

Before long, Silas parked the car in an overgrown field. “Clear everything out, we’re making the last leg on foot.” He ordered. “the grass is long enough to give us sufficient cover, walk parallel to the road.” We got all the fancy gadgets out of Silas’s car and hoisted our bags on our backs. Silas removed a jerrycan from the boot of his car and begun to pour petrol around it. He sighed heavily before shrugging and setting it ablaze.

When Reliance Met Compliance

So much depends on this organ pumping blood through every vein

It feels every emotion with such a ferocious intensity; you’d think it’s malfunctioning

So much depends on my sanity

And the control I’m supposed to have over everything

But like the gods told Pandora, my box is forever closed

For fear of burdening the world of

My broken down dreams and lost hope

So much depends on me

and my capabilities to make the right decisions

and follow it without changing the course

But like a river

My mind is uncertain

It meanders through all the twists

and turns just to find some clarity.

So much depends on everythingso much depends

on every second, every hour

And yet, so little depends

on you

And where you chose to meet me

So little depends

On the fires you lit

and let die with neglect

So little depends on

Where you’ve been

and where i’m going

My life is crashing to a

Standstill of the final

Piecing of emotions, thoughts and feelings.

Whereas yours is only beginning

On the death of mine.

xx Malala