Tag Archives: death

this too shall pass

tears streaming down, nightmares consume the dark hours. I’m running, trying to find Matthew , opening and closing doors, can’t find him. I wake up.

look at his fb page. read his messages. play his last voice message on watsapp to me. He’s laughing, teasing me.

I open my balcony doors, let the cold evening air hit me. breathe it in.

breathing is laboured. like walking through knee deep mud.

I want to scream, hit a wall, swear at the gods that did this. that have rendered me weak and powerless and who have broken my heart. who deemed their plan greater than mine. oh how I hate them in this moment. how could they violate me, violate my family. and get away with it. who can I fight with, which court can I take them to, who will see the trauma their actions have caused.

but I’m voiceless . disempowered .

there are no gods. i tell myself. matt made a choice. respect it. stop being selfish. let it go.

there’s a star in the dark sky. Im looking at it like I used to when I was a child. we used to say it’s my sister now long dead. but as i stand here, I know better now.

what I see is just a star. and people come and people go. and this pain too shall pass.


the Monster

and so,

she put all her pain and suffering

into one drawer

the drawer of pain

The photo of her

dead daughter

a crucifix that had fallen off

a rosary

given to her by the priest,

a letter from her sister

some unpaid bills

and she closed the drawer

and then she locked it.

but one night as she lay sleeping in her bed

(the drawer just a few steps  away)

all the pain locked up inside

gathered together

eyes, a nose, a mouth,

bones and flesh

it formed

and grew and grew

in the drawer

and, as she lay dreaming,

a vicious banging from inside

startled her awake….

the monster within banged and banged and banged

“let me out, let me out”, it screamed

She lay


beneath her covers

yes, frightened stiff.

‘if I’m really quiet and really still

he won’t even know I’m here.’

But the banging persisted and became louder and louder.

‘Okay then’ she said out aloud.

‘I’ll show you what a scream sounds like’

And so she started screaming, so loud that even

the most crazy person would have labelled her unwell

but after a while

she became too sore to carry on



she stopped

but still she could hear the monster

in the drawer…

‘The gun, where is my gun’

‘I will just shoot it,’ she decided…

but a she reached for her gun,

she made a strange realisation


the sound of the monster’s cries

seemed to have shifted

and were coming from within herself…

she would have had to kill herself to kill the monster…

in that absurd realisation

She finally surrendered.

And got out of bed.

She shuffled to the drawer

unlocked it

expecting the worst.

but inside,

it was just as she had left it-

a photo,

a crucifix,

a letter,

and some unpaid bills.

so she took out the image

of her daughter

now long gone

and she stroked it,

and as her first tear fell

on the

photo’s frame

the monster’s cries

that had kept her up for so long…..

finally abated.


Hello darkness, my old friend

“Let me embrace the darkness, for it allows me to see the stars”

It is grey and misty here today. I have grown to love this greyness, that once used to engulf me in darkness.

It is a reminder of how I far I have come from the tunnel of nothingness where life was like watching television in black and white with no sound. now when i hear a bird chirp it is like a melody to me, a sunset is like a kaleidoscopal rainbow.

when you have passed through the veil of darkness, to the other side, life is nothing as you remember it. All of a sudden it is like living life in High Definition. The colours are so defined and bright, the sound is crisp. For someone who was the living dead, to be given this life again is lto see everything for the first time again. Even the sound of a cricket whirring outside can be a joy, a reminder that you are alive. It is heaven for someone who once dwelled in a dark night of the soul.

back then, so long ago,every day was a struggle to breathe. There was no colour, no sound, no laughter. People were doing things and living, but there was a veil between them and me. I could see them but it was as though they were on tv, a place where I could not get to.

There was so much time alone and there was so much quietness, bar for the television in the downstairs bungalow i had rented right on the beach.

Its wooden walls kept me safely tucked away from the world. I was in the mother’s womb again, and as the water crashed outside my front door, I had no idea that I was incubating, getting ready for my rebirth. In the darkness of the bungalow, built around a big boulder, I waited patiently for this darkness to leave me. It took two years for my gestation period, before I saw the light of a new life and emerged. It felt like I had died and found my self in that cave.

It seemed like an eternity I was in this inferno of not even hell. It was not hell, hell had come before that time, this was just nothingness -a sense of nothingness. Days passed into months passed into years. Small attempts, getting up, going to do some dash editing at a local newspaper. Putting in the commas, writing the headline, changing the sentences, comma, comma, comma. So alone, me and the computer screen. I met C there. He became my ‘walker’, we used to joke,. He walked me to my car after work. What a wonderful man and good friend. Slowly I learnt to trust humans again. .

But mostly I would sit in my bed in my dark bungalow with the shutters closed. Sit and have the tv blaring but not even be watching it, just to have some sound, but I wasnt connecting to anything. Days in and days out, long long long days and nights. Coudln’t tell which were days or nights – both were bleak. To get up and make food was difficult. The only thing I left home for if not for the contract work I had now and again, was to speak to my psychologist. I met her once a week. And there were weeks I met her twice because i feraed if I didn’t, I would not live. Not that suicide was ever an option but I just felt that I would lie down one day and never ever get up again if there wasn’t something forcing me to get up.

And again and again I repeated the same story to her. Of pain, loss, sadness, grief, trauma, violation and a damaged heart and a broken spirit. Again and again and again. For years. Until out of somewhere the light started to come in. I gasped. It was the first breath of air I had been able to take. I was breathing! I was alive! Slowly the shackles that had tied me to darkness were being loosened. I met a friend around that time. She had a spark that couldn’t help igniting yours. ANd then I started to meet others that did the same.

ANd so started my journey back to life and to light.

Today life is in High Definition. Darkness visits me sometimes, I don’t fear it anymore. I greet it like an old friend, i let him stay a day or two, as he allows for some creativity, and then i force myself to bid him farewell.

Both the dark and the light have taught me much.

But mostly the darkness has amplified the Light in my life.

And for that, I am oddly grateful.

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