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November

If I were king

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If we were living in the world I dream of
What would I do?
What would I change?

Rape would be punishable by death
I’d start by chopping off their heads
It’s just unthinkable
Unforgivable

I mean, why couldn’t they look for wives to warm their beds
What do they stand to gain from terrorizing and abusing their fellow humans?
Then they start to blame it on the devil
What they don’t realize is they’re the devil
Y’all weren’t mind controlled, you made a choice
A choice that’ll make you unforgivable for the rest of your life

In my world, terrorists don’t exist
Because I can’t even begin to comprehend how you decide that you’ll dedicate your life to threatening people’s lives, taking their homes, making them cry.
How can you look into their eyes and pull that trigger? How?

In my world, there is no war. 
Because the thought of people in power sending soldiers to their graves, while they go to kill other people, all for their so called “interests”, when they could just sit and talk it out
In my world, the only war is to defend my own people. But if we were all wise, there’d be little need for that.

If I were king… I’d make them all pay.
If I were king… 

I’m not king
This isn’t my world

So don’t think everyone has a soul like you
Be prepared to defend yourself
Be careful of those that may see you as the target they crave
And make sure you have your pepper spray

Don’t hesitate to act extremely when you’re in danger
The psychopath won’t stop to reason
Try not to become a victim
And if you are one, don’t keep quiet. Let the world know
Don’t even think, just let the words flow
Spread the word. DONT KEEP GETTING ABUSED.
You’re cheating yourself if you let it continue
I don’t think I’ve said anything new
I just want you to know
You own You and no one can take you from you

It’s just my own view
What about you?
What would you do?
If you were King
What would you change?
What does your world look like
We’re all dreamers so it’s okay to think wishfully
And P.S. King here is general
Male, female or otherwise.
A long boring essay is enough for the wise

by Ali Yisa (@yisalig)

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SEAWEED THAT MIGHT HALT MY BOAT.

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Her long, dark, shiny, free-flowing hair. Her well-shaped eyes. The little scar that lay innocently beneath her right eye. The sensual dance by her lips. “The heck” aura that enveloped the atmosphere when she spoke. The mild, contagious craze, she exuded. I stared, drooling, at her and the flowery cloth that housed her body. Sheepishly, I listened, undisturbed, to hear her introduce herself as all were requested to. Like a new typewriter strikes an inserted paper, gently, her name struck a cord.

Eagerness, sprightliness, adorned me. I wore them, boldly. More days, I looked forward to. My heart hopped and hoped. Like the baby in Mary’s womb, my heart leapt for joy on days I saw her, afterwards. And like yucky sex, my raised hopes were dashed on the days I had hoped to catch a glimpse of her, but failed to.

Humans are toys in the hands of fate. I soon found us stuck together. This set-up christened life, toys with us. Unexpectedly, she slapped her lips on my cheek. It was “her kingdom come.” This moment could have been eureka! But no! We disagreed more. Back and forth, our boat sailed. We went incommunicado, more. I loved her, wanted her around, wished we could share the peace, I experienced in solitude. But wishes are not horses.

And now…

She is due to leave. The evening does not meet with the morning. Our paths might never cross. In life, you win and lose. This loss is a seaweed that might halt my boat. Still, I will bask crazily in the glory of these last moments. Maybe. Or perhaps, this is all a trance and I need to voyage back to life.

This is not another story. These are words tattooed on a broken heart.

 

Like my thoughts? Follow: @agbarapaschal
 

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