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Posts tagged “heartbreak

Beaching…

 

Can I show you life; As I see it?

The world thru my eyes; In a minute?

Can I love you once more? I mean it…

 

I really mean it.

 

Beachling


Goodbyes Are Forever

 

 

Don’t be mad

 

I just didn’t remember

 

But how could I forget?

 

Goodbyes are forever

 

 

We made promises

 

You said you would come back

 

And I would sail seven seas

 

Just to keep track

 

 

How could I not remember!

 

Too much too soon

 

Too soon too gone

 

Gone – till November

 

 

No – not this one; so close

 

Like the thorn from a rose

 

But that one that’ll never come

 

Like distant memories; far gone

 

 

Should have been more of a lover,

 

Should have kissed you tender,

 

Held your hand;

 

And allowed you go no further.

 

 

Oh; dear me!

 

How can I not remember!

 

How dare I forget;

 

That goodbyes are forever?!

 

 

 

 

How?

PROMO


When Love Sucks

I just want to drink you away;

Forget I ever met you

Forget that at some point

I did call you special

Forget about forgetting

That you were ever here to –

But it’s crazy

I can’t forget the smell of your hairdo

Coconuts and oranges;

You left them everywhere boo

The room, the books – and all inside my head too

Ran away from it all

No longer know where to head to

They say love is crazy;

Oh right. You done heard too?

You were afraid; I dig that

Yes, I was scared too

Should have shared my fears

But I was too scared to

So I kept shut

Pretended I didn’t care too

Acting like a model

Don’t know where the catwalk led to

So I put tears in your heart

All the while my eyes bled too

Bedsheets were white

Fucked till they became red too

Got caught up in myself

Forgetting you were here too

Now imagine the gall of me asking

Where are you?

Where. Are. You, My Heart?


When It Rains…

His new shoes pinched.

In fact, everything pinched and scratched – one way or the other.

Kehinde frowned at the rain as it pelted the streets and people alike, with raindrops that sometimes felt like hurled stones. From his perch under the arch of the Baptist Church – the perch he shared with some other characters – he brushed off his new suit, poked his finger in his shirt neck to get his neck more space.

His armpits scratched. His waist, thighs and feet itched as though someone had doused his new clothes in scratching powder or werepe; the leaves of an herbal tree his mother liked to talk about a lot. Hopping from one foot to the other, Kehinde hoped the other people wouldn’t be too concerned with his antics.

“Dis kain rain no dey quick stop o,” a woman who looked and smelled like a fish factory said. Kehinde agreed gloomily, realizing she was correct in her assertion. It was the kind of rain that looked deceptively light – until you stepped in it and got drenched within seconds. It was the kind of rain that fell the whole day – no reprieve whatsoever.

It was going to stay a while.

Dismally, he looked at the carefully wrapped parcel he was carrying – the parcel that represented his entire savings minus transportation for the rest of the semester and some change for miscellaneous expenses. He couldn’t afford for it to get wet – and he couldn’t stay underneath the church awning forever.

An image of Tokunbo trapped in her room, her friends unable to show up because of the rain decided him. Quickly he shrugged off his new grey jacket and carefully wrapped the parcel snugly. And then, keeping his head down, he dashed into the rain.

Because Tokunbo’s house wasn’t too far from his, he ignored the Keke Napeps as they slowed down beside him earlier. The lightness in his pocket had also helped make him decide to walk to her place instead of riding. But now, in the rain he wasn’t sure if that was such a hot decision. His new shoes squelched and squealed as he ran – but he wasn’t worried. They were leather. They would survive their baptism.

He had felt self-conscious buying the suit and shoes. He didn’t trouble his mother for money that session because his sister would be sitting for WAEC and JAMB soon enough – that was burden enough on mother. In fact, he had taken menial jobs – laborer, handyman and the likes – so he could have enough money for himself and still pitch in at the house.

He felt stupid buying the suit for so much. But he knew the kind of girl Tokunbo was, the kind of guy she was used to. That she gave him attention was enough for him – and when she had agreed to be his girl he had almost died from pleasure.

He was determined not to fall her hand.

There was a smidgen of worry nudging his mind – something about her reaction when he’d told her he wouldn’t be able to see her that day. “Why?” she’d asked, and he had told her he was sick.

“Okay baby. Rest up, I’ll miss you.”

It bothered him she hadn’t offered to come over, but then – it was her birthday after all. So he had made cooing noises weakly and she’d laughed. He smiled now; thinking about her laughter.

That had to be the most beautiful thing about her. That; and her smile.

And her eyes. And lips. And boo –

“Okay, that’s enough.” He chided himself out loud – and then spluttered as rain water ran into his open mouth. Spitting out, he wiped his eyes – his mouth, and then slowed down as he rounded the corner to Tokunbo’s house.

His heart started to thump heavily and he stopped for about nine heartbeats, steadying his breathing and getting himself together – as much as a drenched chicken could compose itself before dying. And then he started to walk slowly – past a shiny Honda Accord parked in front of the building – and down the path that led to his heartthrob’s side of the house. Some soft music was playing from – where; he couldn’t tell but it sounded familiar.

He stood on the doorstop and listened for sounds of activity. It was all quiet – but he knew she was home because she said she would be. Carefully, he unwrapped the parcel – grinning happily when he saw it was still dry. He placed it between his thighs, flapped the suit to get some water out of it before shrugging it on and shivering in the wetness.

And then he knocked firmly.

After some time he knocked again, pounding the heavy metal door a lot longer than before. He looked around; to see if there was someone he could inquire about her whereabouts from and then he realized the sounds of the rain hitting the roofs were making quite a racket.

“She dey house.”

He looked to his left – it was Alali, one of Tokunbo’s housemates, a guy with a permanent scowl on his face. Kehinde waved – but he had disappeared.

He grinned and turned back to the door. Only then did he realize the soft music was actually coming from Tokunbo’s part of the house, and it was a little something by Asa. He lifted his hand to knock again – and then decided against it.

He walked along the wall of the house – past the living room windows and then turned to the left to where her bedroom was. The music was getting louder – and Kehinde’s smile widened. She was home indeed.

He stopped by the bedroom window. “Tokun – “ he started to say, and then something inexplicable put a chokehold on his throat and silenced him. It had to be something inside the room; because he looked – looked; and couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The room was just as he remembered it – the little he could see but that wasn’t what arrested his glance.

No.

His sight was riveted by the couple who were doing a dance as old as time on the floor, after making a mess of Tokunbo’s usually impeccably-laid bed. Familiar sounds and moans struggled to be heard over the music – and the rocking up and down motion could only mean one thing – except some guy was doing pushups on some girl.

His mouth opened – but no sound came out. His limbs unfurled, and he staggered backwards, letting go of his most precious parcel. It fell and hit the edge of the concrete pavement, smashing the only way a Samsung Dual Phone could smash.

But Kehinde did not notice.

Holding his head as though trying to physically keep it from splitting open, he weaved a drunken pattern past the main door and away into the street, rain mingling with tears on his cheeks and staining his new suit, shoes still squealing and squelching – but not the same way as before.

Now, they mourned too.

As he disappeared, the door he had been pounding on opened and a fully dressed Tokunbo stood in the doorway, looking at her phone screen.

“Kehinde should have been here by now. Or is he really sick?” she said out loud, worry putting a crease between her otherwise beautiful eyebrows. “I better go check on him,” she resolved, as she hurried back into the house.

And the rain continued to fall…


Hi Bye

‘You had me at hello,”

I hated that line.

Cos it made romance look as easy as

Making this rhyme

Life is hard, love is harder

I’m marking time

Paying more attention to the tick tock

Than I pay my feline

First time I saw her she was

standing in line

You won’t believe how many things

came to mind

Every move I made from then on

Was to make her mine

But I was full of shit

Like I had dysentery

Running my mouth – but I did that decently

At least

Leaned over her shoulder

Said ‘hello, that’s a good buy.’

If only she knew I said hello

Just to say goodbye.

photo courtesy of nwaong

                                                                    photo courtesy of nwaong


Differences

Things change. Things are different now.

They are not what they used to be

Between you and me

At best, I’m the lingering aftertaste of sour milk

At best, you’re something to scratch – an itch

Wish we could go back? Too late. I’m hitched

Wish we could go back. To that, at least.

At ease.

No. I really don’t wish.

It’s a waste of time – time I have not to give

To I open my journal, let my pen shed tears

Because my eyes are stingy; no water with which to grieve

That’s why I don’t do closed doors – my life is out there

In here? It’s too cold and warm

Perfected the art. I already have.

Now I can’t wait for us to take it back to the start.

When we were strangers.

photo courtesy the recording evolution


Out Of Time

Good and evil; two sides of a coin, he reflects afterwards. Inseparable.

He sits on the pavement beside the expressway and looks at the passing cars, at the strolling workers hurrying home – to the giggling lovers hugging each other as though they were stuck at the hip. He looks – but doesn’t see.

Instead, his memory is a loop stuck on the last twenty-one minutes. He swears. Threatens. Curses. Pounds the pavement underneath him.

If you had seen him an hour before, you would have though you were looking at a groom who just lost his virginity to his wife and was being teased about it. He was all laughter and blush – swinging the yellow Shoprite bag in his left fist.

He could barely stand still.

As he walked, he hopped from foot to foot like an overeager boxer – dancing, ducking and weaving in anticipation of punches yet to come. He tap-danced, bogeyed, salsa-ed, etighi-ed sef.

All was right with his world.

People moved out of the way for him as he danced from the bus stop towards his house. They looked at him as he waltzed past – and then shared an all-knowing smile. Love; their faces said. E dey shack am like harmattan breeze.

They nodded condescendingly and followed him with their eyes, watching to see which street or house he would dance into. They saw him reach in his pocket for his phone – watched as he put said phone to his ear and dialed – saw the small confused look that appeared on his face – and then watched as he put phone back in his pocket.

And then – they collectively averted their eyes as an okada screeched, looking like it was going to knock him down –

When they looked again he was gone.

No; he didn’t disappear. He had simply swung asides to avoid the bike man – and he had turned to walk into his street.

It had been a close one – but he was okay.

He smiled again as he thought about the one he was dancing home to – the reason he was holding a Shoprite nylon in his fist. He couldn’t wait to feed her the cold Nestle Chocolate Delight; couldn’t wait to see her eyes light up at the sight of the Cadbury’s Fruit and Rum and Hershey’s.

It was his way of apologizing; you see.

Apologizing for the past four months that had been hell on them – most of all on her. He had lost his job, and being a normally expressive person had turned his anger and frustration on the nearest available target.

Her.

No; he hadn’t beat her. But he swore at her, yelled, threw tantrums and broke things. He spent hours wandering the streets, walking home dead-tired and unhappy, crawling into bed to get a few hours of sleep and then pushing her away impatiently whenever she tried to initiate intimacy.

His balls seemed to have shrunk – along with his self-esteem.

She had kept her head while he seemed to lose his – kept her head and the house together. Deep down, he was grateful for it – for her, but it kicked against everything he knew for her to take care of the house and him. And in his over-expressiveness, he resented her.

And just when it seemed all was lost – he got a new job. And with that, sanity returned. And with it came shame.

Had he not promised this women for better for worse? How bad had it gotten and he’d started behaving like a rabid dog or something – something inhuman?

Shame made him unable to look at her, the first morning of the new job, sitting at the breakfast table, eating bread and eggs she’d served. He ate without looking at her and hurried out of the house before the tears overwhelmed him. It shamed him to see how unhappiness had aged her – and he knew it was his fault.

At work he called her – and cringed at the deadness in her voice. He hurried off the phone and nearly hurled it at the wall.

What have I done?

He had been working for a week when the idea came to him. He called Jerry to ask for a loan – just ten thousand naira and Jerry; who knew his friend was working again, obliged. He went to Shoprite and bought some things…

He got to his house, amidst the roar of neighborhood gen sets and tried the front door. It was locked.

Unusually at the time of day – but he wasn’t too worried. She was probably running some errands around the neighborhood and would return soon. That would also explain why her phone was switched off.

He let himself in with his keys, and was turning to lock the door when a loud burst of laughter startled him.

It was coming from within the house.

The nylon bag slipped from stunned fingers, and on legs that had suddenly become stilts he walked deeper inside the house towards the laughter. One of the voices he recognized. It was his wife’s. It was the other, however, the voice that had the louder of the laughter, the voice that was even at that moment fading into some indistinct murmuring that was tormenting him.

It was the voice of a man.

His legs stopped being his as he willed them to not move but the ignored him, propelling him forward inspite of his fear and hesitation to see what was waiting ahead. They kept propelling him, moving him towards the sounds that had now become noises of pleasure –

For a second, his scream drowned out even the loudest of the generators.

He stopped long enough to register the panicked and frenetic movements coming from the room he was standing in front of.

And then he took off, running out of the house like it was on fire, heading for the side of the expressway we saw him for the first time.

He sits on the pavement beside the expressway and looks at the passing cars, at the strolling workers hurrying home – to the giggling lovers hugging each other as though they were stuck at the hip. He looks – but doesn’t see.

Instead, his memory is a loop stuck on the last one hour. He swears. Threatens. Curses. Pounds the pavement underneath him.

And then, finally he surrenders to the overwhelming push within his chest and eyes.

He cradles his head on his arm- and cries.

ld-promo a