The Joy Scribbles

They're a number of love stories I've told but never ours. It's my favorite one.  Its the only one that ends without a sour taste in my mouth. The only one I still pray for. I pray for you. Did you know? Do you ever hear my prayers? I pray the way mother's pray for their children and women pray for their husbands. Prayer is a woman's best firearm is something my mother says. I don't think she meant for me to use all my Ammo protecting you. I don't think she meant for me to pray for you so hard. But, I find sanity in knowing that even in the moments when  I choose myself over loving you God will love you for me. In the moments when you would look to me look to him. I'm not nearly responsible to hold your heart in my hands without dropping it. I fear I already have, but I want you to know. All these years later, All these boys later, ' All these scars later, there's not a smile in the world that warms my heart more than yours....

Dear Favorite place.  I'm coming home in december.  It has been four years but  I remember the way the green of the north is different from the green of the south.  The air is cooler up there right at the corner of Botswana.  My dad called today and said " Hi pumpkin, I'm in the middle of nowhere right in that corner of Botswana"  and I knew he was almost home.  And I know its 1000 Kilometers of not quite so tarred road.  And just 45 minutes of flight away.  But I'll take the long way.  So I can see it outside my window as I get closer.  You see just after francistown you can't really tell.  But right after Nata the worst part of the road you can tell you're in the Chobe.  You can smell it in the air. You can see it in that northern Green you Don't get anywhere else.  And you can see it in the white sands.  By now the elephants have come to play.  I can always tell ...

Dear Darling, You have convinced yourself that there is nothing more to you than him. But I am here to remind you that he is the stale taste of overnight cigarettes and the heavy presence of vodka on a sunday morning. And you? You are the sun and stars. A whole Galaxy. A swirl of places I could hide myself in. He tried to set you on fire didn't he? He tried to burn down your barricades and when you didn't break he fed you love in the form of roses, wine, Brazilian weaves and luxuries you never needed. He tried to coax you out of your safe room, Didn't he? He tried to fatten you up with insecurities so there would be no space for self love in there. Why did no one tell him you were a volcanoe? And that no one had survived your erruptions? Why did no one tell him that broken boys can't love strong women? Didn't he know? Didn't he see you would break him? Didn't he see you were not the kind of horse that could be tamed? Cause I did. I saw it the moment yo...

You must have been five the first time you realized your grandmother was not your mother. I suspect that someone told you one day that your mother never loved you and that is why Grandma is raising you. You must have wondered what they meant. You didn't laugh at them or cry. But you spent the next few years trying to forget that sentence. And you were happy.. But suddenly you were old enough to realize that mama was much older than your friend's mothers. But you didn't crumble then did you? No. Only when your grandmother died and you buried her and your mom stood across from you crying and you realized that the only thing you guys had in common was loving a fragile old lady. I pray for you girl. I do.

Dear Nyakallo, I wish God had given us both a little bit more strength to hold each other a little bit longer and a little bit harder. I love you. Terribly. and strongly. and I miss your face. Text me bish. :)

Dear boy who left She stared at him in the rear view mirror. They were acting like friends again. They were always acting like friends. Nobody knew, not even her best friends that she had been sleeping with him for a year. She was in love with him. She knew it for sure. Staring at him and that rear view mirror knowing he wouldn’t see her again for 77days. Exactly 77. She had counted; he had said she should think of it as weeks. He kissed her. She held back tears. “I’m going to miss you she said. He said you don’t understand that I’m going to miss you four times more. She knew it now that when she said she loved him she did. And he was leaving. And she was staying. And she loved him. But she knew he didn’t love her. Even when he said he did, she knew.

I found a poem I wrote that gets this.... It's called Home Let's get our own place. And cook and drink wine. We'll pick recipes of the internet.   Our house will smell of yummy things we haven't eaten yet. We'll sit on the floor and eat of each other's plates. Or share a plate because we're not done packing yet. Then we'll make love on our bed.   I'll make sure we start with that room. With pretty sheets I picked. Then we'll lie in each other’s arms. And I’ll scream eek at your sweat glistened skin that turned me on just a moment before.   You'll laugh. And we'll talk. You'll fall asleep. Fall into a snore. I'll get up and write in the study you built for me. And I’ll fall asleep, books open, laptop on.   Will you buy me a type writer so I don't deal with the glare on the screen? I hope you're not mad when you wake up and realise I don't sleep that much.           ...

Dear TJ, Here is a list of 10 things to remember when you're forty;  No one is too young to fall in love and You are not too old to forget to love. Tequila shots are messy as fuck. But messy nights are worth trying to remember.  Sex in a car will never be comfortable.  "Writer, poet, and superhero"  You can say No.  You can quit jobs you don't like.  We're going to greece.   Island girls have more fun.  Nothing your children do is about you.  If no one else does, Simba Snow Sebina loves you.  and also I love you.... xoxo

I am trying to teach you not to hold on to boys that bury their troubles between your thighs. I am trying to teach you fierce. I don't know, maybe even strong. I am trying to teach you that if no one will warm your feet you have to wear socks. I am trying to teach you that you're worth more than 30 minutes of sweat and not even a five minute nap. I am trying to teach you that you don't have to love anyone back. That "it's complicated" is not "I like you" and everything before "but"is a lie. I am trying darling... But you're stuck in your ways you cry on shoulders that forget to text you back. and pay for drinks you never drink. I am trying to teach you that box never saved a man or fixed him. That your cooking never loved him. that your texts are an annoyance I am trying to teach you' that you are worthy of yourself darling. when will you learn? when will you know? Not to find comfort in mediocr...

When I was 5 my mother told me to punch till i drew blood. I didn't get why she was so mad. When I was 12 a man said I liooked sexy in shorts. I stopped wearing shorts. Or playing outside. I closed my legs, I sat like a lady. I wear shorts now. I walk at night. I drink tequila. I reject nice guys. Someone told me I was asking for it. I remembered then, my mother said... "when a boy tells you he owns you punch till you draw blood."

Dear Grandma I can't forget the day you said you'd see me in my dreams. Or the day my cousin screamed "Mampho o sule". And I'm trying not to cry but I cry so much man. I cry about everything. Did I cry this much before? Did you know I cry so much? I cry almost as much as I breath. Sometimes I have to hide behind my shades and hat. I just started drinking tea again. I'm not hurling it but I haven't tried the one you liked. It scares me. I have a baby sister. So I'm not a baby anymore. And sometimes I wish you'd gotten to see it. I miss you terribly. I wish you'd visit my dreams tonight. Love, Tshepo.

Dear Thandi, I know I'm bad at keeping in touch. But there is so much to say. Technology is so impersonal. I'm sorry. I want to hold you, see your face when I tell you something shocking, hear you laugh. I miss you. terribly. Don't doubt it. I just can't do this online life. Just make sure when you come home this time I get to see you. I love you. Hope you're staying blessed. Xoxo

Again I am super late due to power cuts. But here goes Dear Sir, I don't feel like writing down your name today. I no longer refer to it. Or hold it with the reverence of a little girl learning her first teacher's name. I no longer repeat it to people as if to remind them you once belonged to me. I no longer repeat it to myself in an attempt not to forget you. I try to remember not to say it. I try to remember that they're sick and tired of hearing it. I try to remember not to tell stories that make me laugh if you're in them. Or stories about the first time I did this or that because goddamn it you're in so many fucken memories. So sometimes I whisper it before bed and other days when I'm too busy to remember it crawls into my dreams and holds me. I keep trying to remember that you are no longer comfort. You are no longer home. Your bed is not a place I can bare myself anymore. I can no longer cry in your arms. You can no longer see me as the definition o...

Hi... unfortunately living in a third world country means that i sometimes have all day power shortages apparently. I had no idea. In other news. Hi there stranger, I slipped this note in your back pack this afternoon after I saw you start an argument with a combi driver on a rainy day. Here's the thing. We're all having a pretty shit day. Its raining furiously. My shoes are soaked. And for God's sake I left my house for a cafe cause there was no power and the cafe didnt have power? So I genuinely don't know why no one has taught you that some arguments aren't a thing. That the scorn in your voice is a bitter acid that pisses us the fuck off but only burns you. Does it make you feel better? Does it make you feel manlier to remind the combi driver that your job is better than his so he needs to hurry the fuck up. Shut Up. You're beneath him for simply being so fucken rude. what are you a twelve year old spoilt kid? Here sir a three rules to having a good da...

Dear Aaliyah I remember when I found the scan of you by accident. I asked mom if we were having a baby and she said it was a scan of daddy's tummy. I didn't tell her she was lying because it had her name on it. You don't tell old people they're lying. But I remember going to bed that night and praying you were a girl so you could get some of my old clothes. I waited for you for so long. And then you arrived a small ugly thing with a full head of curly hair that wasn't any fun to play with and by the time you could play I was too old and busy. You fell asleep waiting for me to finish my homework and read you a story. That's probably why you don't read much now. But yesterday you said "look the clouds are pregnant"and I beamed with pride because you remembered the metaphors we went through. and mom said "where'd you learn that?" and you said my sister. And never for a second when I'm yelling or moving out or somewhere in betw...

Dear Mom and Dad, Guess what? I'm going to make it. Thanks for making it possible. Sincerely, Somewhere in between a grown woman and a little girl

Dear Crush, I don't want to write this. This letter would remind me too much of how we began in endless possibilities and ended in Nothing.  I've got a thing for boys who read books, speak multiple languages and smell good. You are all of those. But it seems I've also got a taste for men with no taste for me. Do I taste dull? Do I taste stale while you taste like candy floss? Soft and sweet but so incredibly unhealthy. So incredibly unhealthy how many times you want to be just friends while your hand is in my pants and there's tequila in my breath. I use to think you were awesome and it makes me sad to watch your light flicker the faster I run away. I wanted to be friends. But you lied. I can't stand lies. Not when I'm giving you all of myself. I can't stand lies. Not when I'm giving all of myself. _ Nothing

Is it a sin if I write 2? The reason is for some people they meet one person who understands their soul and they call them their best friend and for me I've met two different people who understand me so differently but who i love so fiercely I couldn't live without them. so here goes... Darling, I used to think that I knew nothing about you. That I opened myself to you and got nothing from you but hugs and condolences and tears about how i deserved better but not a single bit of you. Then i realized I never asked. Always so observed in myself that I never noticed that maybe unlike me who sprawls herself to whoever will listen, you needed prompting. But I have since learned that nothing anyone does has to do with me. And it makes smile that occasionally when the pressure of the things you bottle up inside cracks its me you call at 2 am in tears. And sure I have no fucken Idea why You're crying. And sure I've never met your man. Or remember his name because he never ...

Write a letter a day for 30 days The List 1 - Your Best Friend 2 - Your Crush 3 - Your parents 4 - Your sibling (or closest relative) 5 - Your dreams 6 - A stranger 7 - Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush 8 - Your favourite internet friend 9 - Someone you wish you could meet 10 - Someone you don't talk to as much as you'd like to 11 - A Deceased person you wish you could talk to 12 - The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain 13 - Someone you wish could forgive you 14 - Someone you've drifted away from 15 - The person you miss the most 16 - Someone that's not in your state/country 17 - Someone from your childhood 18 - The person that you wish you could be 19 - Someone that pesters your mind-good or bad 20 - The one that broke your heart the hardest 21 - Someone you judged by their first impression 22 - Someone you want to give a second chance to 23 - The last person you kissed 24 - The person that gave you your favourite memory ...

We're like withering roses me and you. This relationship isn't big enough for the both of us. It’s sad that some people suffocate in love or somewhere between it. Someone asked me what being in love feels like. I can't remember. All I remember is the consuming fear of losing you. Remind me darling.   I hate it when scars fade. That's when I forget all the burns, cuts and bruises. That's when I fall into your arms, forgetting that their safety once suffocated me.   That you once wept as you watched your too tight grasp leave me gasping and clawing at you.   Too selfish and scared to let go just a little. They won't stop asking why I won't leave you.   I've resolved to answering, "I'm a poet. What would I write about if not being in love with a man that thinks I'm pathetic" But we both know it’s nice to come back and be a mess again. I told you you're a lucky man. I didn't tell you I'm a lucky woman too. Ma...