My Words – by Grâce Ndjako

Completely vulnerable, I had let myself be completely vulnerable.

I sensed it as I wrote it, realized it as I send it and regretted it when I didn’t get a response.

“Did he read it? What is he thinking? How does he feel? Is he freaking out?”

 

But nothing happened.

My heart bled, my heart felt.

I had let myself have feelings that went unanswered,

Wrote down words he apparently didn’t want or need to hear.

I went through an array of emotions,

After the pain came the pride and vain regret.

 

He had wounded my vanity.

I had wasted these words, I could never use them again.

I later realized that though addressed to him, they were never his

The words were and have always been mine.

My heart bled, my heart felt

I felt

 

The Formal Exclusion  –  by Grâce Ndjako

 

Today I just want to vent
My patience is gone
It turns out that it wasn’t endless
I will renounce the missionary’s virtues if I see fit
But I dare anyone to call this uncivilized

You can’t claim this.
My resistance has fascinated you
My perseverance has intimidated you
Maybe in these regards I was a bit too much like you
And dare I say more earnest, unaffected
You saw, I lived

Now you want to see more
But you can only see where I’ve been,
You estimate where I am,
And are oblivious as to where I’m going
More, ‘till there is no more

I want to live, tell and shape
But, you saw
Glimpses, glimpses
A frozen image to you
Where have I gone?

Others are now deemed more formally qualified
Only the missionary gets to report back to the church
I compete against the glimpses you caught
Formally kept out
And the irony escapes you

However, your image I won’t shatter
I won’t tear, enact or interact
There is a world you won’t reach
It can’t be frozen
I’ll go on, unaffected