Sprinkles of Joy

Laughter. It’s soothing melody, a delicious treat to my greedy, sugar craving soul. I remember the pure bliss I felt in my childhood. There was light inside me. It was the most contented ecstacy I daresay I will ever know. If I could turn back time, it would be to those flashes, those moments, where the large, wide windows at home accentuated the natural glow of sunbeams, bursting through all barriers, with the sole intent of hugging me with their lavish brilliance. Infectious joy. Seamless love. Take me back.




Like the constant tide of the ocean, these feelings, they never truly go. An inner sadness, so deep and so powerful that I cannot begin to imagine the grim solemnity of its grievous source. It does not rest, relentless in its quest to destroy the very roots of my will to exist. And yet I cannot claim it for my own. For this, it is the sadness of a mourning deity, that has broadcast its bitterness into the heart of another – a futile attempt to dull the ache that consumes her so. One that has instead brought precious oxygen to the burning pain within – the farther it spreads, the hungrier its greedy jaws and viscious claws.

My only escape, is the bang and clang of life’s varied instances. The cacophony it entails. The joys of intimate company, and the intoxicating heights it comes with. Moments of nothingness. Numbness to the pain. Where i can finally be alone with myself, for a relieving 5 seconds.

Why dont you exorcise this beast from within me. She consumes me so. I fear she will leave me an empty husk, remains of a girl that once was. A girl who yearned to be free.



No. I’m not going back to how it was before. When I would feel like the Sun when he replied my texts, and like a grain of worthless sand somewhere at the bottom of a deep and treacherous ocean, when he ignored them. I don’t need him, or anyone to validate my worth as a human being. I am Tanzanite. I am Sapphire. I am Aquamarine. I am desirable, and ravishing, and my soul radiates light so brilliant that the weak can only look away. I will wait, because I know out there somewhere, is a man that will hold my gaze, strong enough to take the sparkling passion that is Me, because his soul burns just as bright.


It starts with a familiar scent…or a run-in with one of her siblings. They look so much like her that it’s impossible to meet them without mentally changing a few facial features, and speaking to an imaginary mother. It’s not out of any sense of bereavement or sorrow, no – it was all buried in the layers of time and experience, and relations with people that built up over the years. Life after all, goes on, and with it the memories begin to fade, and soon there are close to none to look back on, and miss. She doesn’t even think about her much. It’s out of a sense of curiosity, that over the years has made her wonder who she would have been, had her mother stayed in her life for longer. Would she be happier? A better person? Less awkward? More feminine? Would she be complete? It has fluttered in her mind, for many years, this thought. She keeps squatting at it like a mosquito, but as most situations in life, it’s the little things that bother you the most. She doesn’t feel like a “real” woman. She is convinced that somehow, all those years ago, she was left behind by all the young girls with mothers, and that now, they have imbued in them, an ability unattainable by outsiders, to be a complete and authentic “woman” . Ask her what it means to be a woman. She doesn’t know. She can’t tell you. She feels like damaged goods. Like wine that got spoiled just before it was left to mature. Like she will never reach her full potential, the woman she could be, if she’d had a mother.

Tentative beginnings

And so they finally began to speak with each other. They smiled, laughed, and made fun. But it was never the same, and they both knew it. Caution forced brakes of steel onto their tentative understanding, and so the smiles were never as wide, never quite filling their wary eyes, nor the laughter as ready, or as heartfelt. The scars had gone deeper than either were willing to admit. She never told him about the baby, a secret she hid in the Marianas of her soul, and he never told her why- a question that she still pondered at the dusk of every  falling sun. But even this feeble facade of amicability was enough to make her heart sing, for she had missed his warm gaze and arrogant confidence, and craved the comforting pressure of his touch. She had missed his adolescent ramblings, and his lousy bedside manner. He quickly became her best friend, and he had made her feel special – but what she hadn’t realized was that all women were equally special to him. She would never make that mistake again, and her silent grief for a baby that could have been, would be a tatooo on her weary heart, reminding her why.

What is love anyway?

What is this glorified but seemingly impossible thing we call love, anyway? Why do we struggle so much with our emotions, so many feelings unreturned. So many words unsaid. So much hidden feeling and emotion. Why can’t we just say what we feel, and do what we want to do spontaneously? It’s hard. I’m tired, and spent, and yet even in giving up, my heart cannot let go of the one that she craves, and though he shatters her to millions of jagged pieces, each one of them cannot help but whisper his name in silent hopes that he will come and put her back together. “He doesn’t love you,” the steady baritone of her ground level self esteem reminds her from the pitch black, shadowy curtain wings. And truly he doesn’t- if actions could speak words, his would scream a bloodcurdling shriek of rejection and distaste. His uninterested demeanor cuts jagged wedges into my soul. His indifference is a scalding cup of fiery fluid, burning from the outsiďe in. And yet my love for him only grows, as his regard for me wanes with the moonlight. Love. What a word.

The Grace of God

Truly, truly I say to you,

The grace of God is a flowing stream of clear water,

Washing away your sins in real time,

And bringing peace to your heart –

An everlasting peace unknown to others

But attainable by all.

And His mercy and love will endure forever

In the depths of your heart

For we are all unclean

But His Spirit penetrates the deepest most hidden depths of our hearts

And it radiates light

So that our guilt and fear

May become happiness.

True happiness and joy from the Father, infectious as the light of the sun.

But leaving no shadows.

This light purifies hearts, as sunlight kills germs.

And illuminates for us the beauty of life and creation,that we may share it with the world.

And we all will be freed from the chains of sin that bind us to the worldly pleasures of life.

And we will be unstoppable –

God in our hearts and minds and souls,

And us in Him.

One entity of utter Purity and Goodness.

And it’s beauty will blind the world to sin.

All its guilt ridden, lonely souls to win.

~Asiimwe ♡●