I remember smiling brightly
and laughing
when talking about you–
as if you were still alive.
I don’t know who I was lying to,
if to them,
to your memory
or to myself.

In Loving Memory of Annconcillia Bonareri Kombo.
Beside your bed we sat, in silence and prayer,
Hoping for flickers, for breath, for a stare.
The minutes crawled slowly, the darkness too deep,
But you stayed still, in your quiet sleep.

We whispered your name, we begged, we cried,
Held onto hope as the hours passed by.
But this time, Mama, you didn’t fight
You slipped away softly into the night.

No final word, no parting sigh,
Just heavy air and one last goodbye.
The dawn came cold, but your warmth remained,
In stories and memories your soul engraved.

So rest, dear Mama, in skies so wide
We carry your love on the other side.
And though you never turned back to see,
A part of you still walks with me.

Originally  written by Micko.
April.2025.©️
All rights reserved.

What is left,
what remains
beyond pain at my leaving
as memories fade
at the end of your grieving
when the tide in which you wade
is not so cold and not so deep
what then my love
which memories will you keep,
the echo of my voice
wrapped in memory,
pressed in a book
will you take a look
but not too hard,
don’t stay too long,
remember me fondly
when I am gone
then take down my picture
and carry on

And at last he prayed,
Prayed since all hope had perished,
All virtues faded and all sentiments gone.
Down the river he now floats, cursed with angst and pain.
He mourns his loss but his grief won't go away, for this is the consequence —
The consequence of action he so inadvertently did without a second of thought.
Oh, the lives he ruined, the chaos he brought.
Denial is the river, and denial is what he sought.

In denial he drowned,
And in denial he remained.

-Asher Graves

I tended a garden once,
behind walls too low,
in a pasture too wide.

The vines reached for strangers
with reckless kindness,
begging to be named beautiful.

You came with smoke clinging to your sleeves,
promises falling from your mouth,
and I, fool that I was,
welcomed you.

With greedy hands, you plucked petals,
stepped on seeds meant for tomorrow,
your breath embers against my harvest.

The skies darkened.
The rivers boiled.
The orchard withered from root to leaf.

And there I stood,
ash stuck to my skin,
silence heavier than stone.

I stayed to bury what you left behind:
The wilted vines,
the broken promises,
the ruined songs.

From the shattered soil,
I built a citadel from broken things.
It stands, heavy and hollow,
Strong enough for silence to live inside.

I am no longer waiting
for careless hands to stumble upon me.
I do not open gates for ghosts.
I hope their hands break before they knock.

Possessed with the urge to do;
Can't settle until things ensue.
Reminding myself of the past; all shall be fine,
You can play, you have time!
Life ebbs and flows,
release the shakes, and go,
Wade in the waters,
Go where there are no borders.
Grieve,
And believe.

I know how to carry pain
not like a burden,
but like a second skin.
I've walked through fire in silence,
kissed betrayal on the cheek
and called it by name.

I know bad words.
Not just the ones they speak,
but the ones they plant
in the soil of a soft heart
and leave to grow wild.

I've tasted different traits
bitterness sweetened by charm,
gentleness sharpened to a blade.
I've danced with shadows in daylight
and called it love.

But this one...
this is new.

This ache that lives in my ribs,
this grief that kicks from inside,
this quiet war I fight
while smiling, while feeding,
while staying alive.

Excuse me,
but I’ve never been pregnant
with someone else's cruelty before.
Excuse me
if I need space
to untangle this web
before I decide which thread to cut.

I will lie here,
wrapped in blankets and restraint,
saying “I’m fine”
while every door in this house
begs to be torn from its hinges.

I want to set this silence on fire.
I want to burn this version of me
and walk barefoot through the ash
until I meet the woman
waiting on the other side
the one who chose herself.

I’ve known pain.
But this one is new.
And still
I will survive.
Because I have to.
Because I always do.