The remnants
We look so fondly upon those symbols of colonialism, as if cursive wasn’t shoved down our throats and we didn’t learnt to spell colour, colour.
We look so fondly upon those symbols of colonialism, as if cursive wasn’t shoved down our throats and we didn’t learnt to spell colour, colour.
I only regret giving you too much. You saw my glory. I let you touch it. I let you taste it. I let you be changed by it, and then it was too late, because I was changed by you. I shouldn’t have let you feel even a little of my perfection. But I did. […]
It won’t be the same. It will probably never be. Your heart will still beat for him, but to a different beat. A comforting one. Too comfortable. When he looks at you, he won’t see perfection. He’ll see the role you fit into now, for him, and it’ll break you a little, every time. […]
Dear Reader, Akello means ‘I bring’ or ‘I have brought’ in my mother tongue, Dholuo. With this collection of 83 poems, I bring you into my world of words and general cohesive madness. The poems are about love and life; themes most people can relate to. Unless you are dead, or horrible. Enjoy. Praise for Akello: […]
Something happened to me in September, and I think that something broke something else inside me. And it wasn’t the breakup.I mean, the breakup was difficult. As they all are. And it was heart wrenching. And in all honesty, I’m probably not dealing with it very well – the full passive aggressive ostrich head in […]
Slowly As you watch it Your heart breaks As he drops it Your breath catches Heartbreak snatches What you thought You once had. Barely crying Slowly dying Now unable to Comprehend What you knew Was coming yet you Ignored what would be The end. So the darkness It begins From your soul From within To […]