Obinna Strange

Her Her face was a punching bag. Her back was for pressing clothes. Her hair was a scanty bush. Her skin was mutilated like an ugly doll. Her nails were broken to pieces. Her clothes were shredded without empathy. Her body was beautified with sores. She was a total mess... Talk of the physical. Deep down, as deep as the ocean, her heart was running out of blood. Her soul was lost to the wind... Lost to the wind, yet suffocating. Lost to the wind, lost forever? Her mind was a battlefield. Fighting demons, fighting fears. All she wanted was to be free, Free as a bird. All she wanted was to be safe, Safe like a baby suckling its mother's beasts. All she wanted was to be sane, Sane to think straight and let go. All she wanted was love, To love and be loved. But nobody loved her like her. Nobody bothered to know why a salty Lake surrounded her always. And how she continuously drowned in it. Talk of the emotional.. Her spirit felt dead. Lost in hell, well,...

PEOPLE YOU CALL YOUR FRIENDS Grab a popcorn and probably a drink huh I got something I need you to think on Or let's say someone I need you to ditch on So what's the purpose of my write up?? I want you to man up To be clear headed and take a good look at these people.... People you call your friends Now let's do the analysis How you met them you can't remember How you guys started talking Your medulla can't seem to decipher It's like eating nutella You can't tell how it finishes.. Ask Shoshanna That's how you can't tell how these people.. . People you call your friends are your friends First they act like your ride or die niggas Showing love and care that shocks you to your embers And then the thought comes to your head..  "I just met this person" "He/She is so caring.. Blah blah blah They are just waiting to break you apart like glass They are always open and receptive Listening and sensitive Always there f...

Tiired You know what? I'm sick and tired of everything. I'm sick of trying to be a better person. I'm sick of trying to be happy. I'm sick of acting normal. I'm sick of being broke. I'm sick of wanting to be a goody two shoes. I'm sick of trying to  hold on to my friends. I'm sick of looking for something to believe in. And you know what I'm going to do? I'm saying Fuck it. Fuck being the goody two shoes. Fuck being the loyal daughter. Fuck being that great friend. I know a lot of you will judge me. But I don't care cause I'm sick and tired. Lemme go and drink fanta sef. Crystal's Thought Written By Christabel

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My Opinion on What it Means to be in a Relationship (Part 1) - By Big D These days, it's quite unfortunate that many people don't know what they are doing anymore. As Chinua Achebe of blessed memory said, "things have fallen apart"... A good number of us do things without knowing the implications of what we are Doing. We don't know what is involved or what is required of us.... The consequences of certain decisions we take. We just do things for the fun of it, for its sake or because others are doing it. That's why there is chaos everywhere. We are living in an era of utmost confusion. an era of ignorance of the things that really matter despite our break through in science and technology. This piece isn't directed to anyone in particular, it's written so that all who stumble upon it can look into my mind and see the subject matter through the lens of my eyes and ask themselves this question, "what the fuck have I been doing all these while?...

Behind The Masks                   5:30pm, Old Carolina. We ordered for the third round of the drinks. By this time, about eight bottles had already been emptied. It was a cool evening. The weather was chill, not a leaf stirred. The DJ turned up the music's decibel and it almost added to the highness emanating from the slurps of alcohol already in our stomachs. It was my first time of drinking more than three bottles of alcohol at a time. I guzzled more amounts, periodically, and simultaneously smoking the oris cigarette which was on top of the table. It was the eve of my birthday, so I decided to get some hangover, lols. The liquor was now tasting like water the more I took, and soon, I emptied the eightieth bottle, Musah was on his tenth. She walked majestically in, locating the table after ours. She talked with the waiter in a low tone, almost in a style that we could barely hear some whispers. Soon, the garcon returned with her order...

Sometimes, I withhold from speaking. Telling your friends how badly you've wronged me Or maybe I don't know, It's my mind telling me they'd support you anyways. It is wrong. Yes, The way you treated me I am a woman. Who am I to speak up against you? Knowing well the prospect of being hit again and again. Yet I endure. Trudging to grow a withering relationship. I dare to feel hopeful. That you would change. For the better of course. But No. I end up disappointed It is a usual feeling. That I have accustomed myself to Being let down. Countless times But I think it's enough. I have entertained this pain for far too long Don't you think? Of course you want to keep me,  I am your meek slave Cook when you ask me to. Eat when you want me to. Open my legs as often as you desire Everything I do is for your sole pleasure. But it is not supposed to be so. Long before now, I told myself That there was power in silence than having the las...