Short Story: Gray
I looked at her for as long as I can remember. Beautiful box braids I wish I could afford to make for myself. Her finger nails were polished royal blue with little black stars spotting them. Her eyebrows weren’t at all looking like those other fake-professionally-touched brows, they were touched quite alright, but they looked natural. She wore a lipstick the color of nude. Her lower lips had a rather extravagant smiley-curve-rich-beauty about them—I thought. Her eyes, the colour of her eyes were gray. I looked at them over and over again to make sure I wasn’t wrong. I looked at them until she caught me looking at her. I gave a sheepish smile. She knew me so she smiled back. Gray eyes, I thought. Gray that reminded me that if I envied her more, whilst in church, my soul would no longer be white. I’d be gray. Mirabelle Morah.
Run Away, Love
It takes a heart to love, stay away from it until you’re ready, he said. I think he forgot to add, that it also takes a heart to be torn to pieces, run away from it until you’re sure you’re ready. I always told her that I wanted to love her the right way, the way the good Lord would approve of. Who was I kidding? She didn’t want that kind of love, she wanted the other love, the one that came with fireflies in the belly; blushes; stutters; kisses. It didn’t take long for me to get entrapped in this lost love called lust. O Boi you don hit jackpot o, they would tell me, I feigned disgust, I secretly loved to hear it but I knew I was wrong. I was a church boy, I’m trying to be that again, and I knew our love wasn’t what He…
The Hard Life
Some days #200 was hard enough for him to get. #200 could be his transportation fare, meal and even entertainment for an entire day. Life wasn’t a bed of roses for him. By age seventeen he was already being the man of the house. Working, feeding his siblings and giving his father some money. Now, they were asking for #200 again, #200 to register for a course at the university. Where was he going to get it from? Money didn’t fall like manna for him. He secretly shed tears everyday. Wishing he could have the things most of his course mates had but were never content with. Things like having someone to pay his fees, coming back to meals at home, having enough money to buy books; things like having a mother to console him in moments when all hope seemed lost. Mirabelle Morah
Torn
As I lay on my bed I wonder if you miss me. I wonder if you wake up sad in the morning with thoughts of me and go to bed looking at my picture, just like I do. I wonder if you care about me like I do. A few weeks ago you said I meant so much to you, today I wonder if I still do. You haven’t called to say hello, to find out if I’m dead yet or if I’m still on the life support you left me on. I’m trying to let you go but the thoughts of you keep coming back to me like moth to a flame. Mirabelle Morah
Kingdom: History
Her gentle turns and wiggles on the bed woke him up that same morning. He used his large arms to pull her closer to himself, she needed to be warm. “Daddy?” “Mhmm?” He answered. His eyes were still shut. “Me wanna pee.” She said. When his eyes finally and lazily fluttered open, he caught her staring at him. The little black eyes had crusts around them. Something about the innocency in them made something else inside of him cringe and melt at the same time. He stood up from the bed and scooped her up in his arms. “Aii Shama, me take you to the loo now.” He smiled and kissed her cheeks. Her light giggles reminded him of his wife. She died minutes after Shama was born. Losing Her had hurt a lot and it still did hurt. But you see, that morning, he wasn’t going to let all…
Queendom: Herstory
When she woke up that morning, the biggest smile she’d ever had that week fell across her heart. Everything about the morning seemed so fresh and dazzling—best of all it was drizzling. She sat up and looked out through her window. Dark clouds, blue sky, sun hiding behind the clouds. She smiled another big smile. You see, that day, she wasn’t going to let all the hurt she’d been feeling get to her anymore. So she got down on her knees, by her bedside and said a little unusual prayer. He said they couldn’t be together anymore. It had hurt and still did hurt but like I’d said earlier too, You see, that day, she wasn’t going to let all the hurt she’d been feeling get to her anymore. She was going to build back her Queendom, once again. Mirabelle Morah
There’s Got to Be More
We are tired of the status quo There has got to be more to life than Us Us Us School School School Work Work Work There has got to be more to life than our eyes can meet We are tired of contemplating what People would Say Say Say We would rather think of what God God God Has to say And do what’s Right Right Right Life is too big to be all and only about our selfish interests.
The Writers’ Pain
If I never get heartbroken I would never understand what it feels like to once love and still desire a love long gone. If we never get depressed, we wouldn’t be able to spin out images of death and angels intertwined, making love together in the 11th heavens. So, we give ourselves wholly to love, We set our hearts to sail and watch them get ship wrecked, So we can write about the storm. Sometimes, we stay too long in the pain. Mirabelle Morah
Aphrodite Awakens
He awoke the sleeping Aphrodite in you For years, you have tried to suppress it Four years, you have tried to tame it Fourth year, he awoke this sleeper in you. Now all you can think of is him The lover in you wants him Pity—you have loved him more than God Before him you are free No façades, just you But why awake this beast in you if he isn’t ready to stay, Forever. Mirabelle Morah
What Makes Life, Life?
What makes the gods thunder with laughter? What brings the Devil to tears? What makes love hurt? What makes evil geniuses tickle with such brain power? What makes love break people— Shouldn’t it strengthen? What makes us relax when we watch the moon? What brings the sky to tears? What makes the heart long for lovers long gone? Why does music drive the mass crazy? What makes the tiger weep? What makes the birds anxious? What truly makes us humans? What makes life, life? Mirabelle Morah
Yesterday: You Hurt Her
You said you would miss her She said she knew you would You said you were horny And she asked if that was all you thought about her It pains me so much to write that YOU HURT HER Your planet revolved around her She was the axial force that kept you in place You treasured her but still YOU HURT HER She asked if she were your sex object or symbol She wanted to mean so much more in your eyes She wanted you to see her as a gazelle by the spring side Graceful loving and breathtaking She wanted you to treat her like a woman With respect and dignity But yesterday YOU HURT HER Mirabelle Morah
When Will My Own Love Happen
I feel too hurt for words To think I may never find love I never want to search for it Yet I search And even though I search I never seem to find it And whenever I think I have, It’s never truly mine They either love someone else Or it just doesn’t come to be When will my own love happen? When will I tickle with fickle excitement that someone I love, loves me back When will I finally not share someone’s love with another stranger If you’re out there, I want you to be all mine and noone else’s How much longer do I have to wait? How much longer do I have to love completely without my lover being truly mine? Why did you make me fall for you if you knew you were going to leave me halfway? So I ask again, When will my own…
To Nne’m
To Nne’m Today doesn’t have to be momma’s day for me to celebrate you, cause I’d celebrate you everyday. I’ve read that the older we grow, the more we realize that we have to respect our mothers. Nne’m, I respect you so much. When I think about you I remember how strong a woman you are. Everything you’ve gone through, every time I’ve hurt you, family’s disappointed you, friends have let you down but you’ve still been so strong. If I were in your shoes, mom, I don’t think I’d be able to tolerate myself just as you have. I know I’m so much of a pain, I know I could be impatient, I know how argumentative and annoying I can get with you, I may not be the best but yet you treat me like am over-the-top-amazing. I love it when you tell me that I’d go places, I…