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
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
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