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BlessingNdebele
23/F/Johannesburg Hi, Blessing here. I'm a student Pilot and a poetess. I'm a big fan of Diana Evans and Maya Angelou's work. I'm excited to share my work with everyone!
The lilies are not coming. Staying did not come either. It left quietly and stayed gone. And I am tired of building altars out of things that never learned how to remain. So I stop. Not gracefully. Not gently. collapsing under the memory of what never arrived. And I put my hands in the soil anyway because nothing else has ever remained. The lilies are not coming and that has to mean something now. Not poetry. Not metaphor. I call this living, I think a quiet kind of sinking that still learns how to breathe. Or is it... living?
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May 12
May 12, 2026 at 6:44 PM UTC
The Lillies Are Not Coming
In Conclusion I loved with clean hands, with a heart that didn’t know how to pretend. While I was choosing you, you were choosing differently, returning to me as if loyalty could be divided and still be called love. You lived in two worlds and let me doubt myself in one. You denied the truth until my intuition learned to scream in the dark. I blamed my worth for your betrayal, shrinking myself to explain your lies. The cheating changed me not by breaking me, but by teaching me how deeply I deserve peace. I lost sleep, not dignity. I lost illusions, not value. I lost nothing that was ever mine. And now that I’m leaving, I am not leaving in anger. I am leaving with my eyes open, with the truth fully named and no desire to argue with it anymore. I am leaving what betrayed me, what lied to me, what asked me to shrink so it could stay comfortable. I leave without wishing you harm, and without wishing you well. Some endings don’t need blessings, they need boundaries. This chapter ends here. Not because it meant nothing, but because I matter more. What I carry with me is mine: my faith, my softness, my discernment, the strength it took to walk away without needing you to understand. From here on, I choose peace without apology. I choose a love that does not wound. I choose a life that does not require my silence to survive. And how exciting, how thrilling, how joyous it is! The heavens are rejoicing with me. I have waited for the day I didn’t love you anymore. How amazing! Hey, Mamma Mia, watch me go again!
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Dec 14, 2025
Dec 14, 2025 at 3:22 PM UTC
And now that I'm leaving
In Conclusion I loved with clean hands, with a heart that didn’t know how to pretend. While I was choosing you, you were choosing differently, returning to me as if loyalty could be divided and still be called love. You lived in two worlds and let me doubt myself in one. You denied the truth until my intuition learned to scream in the dark. I blamed my worth for your betrayal, shrinking myself to explain your lies. The cheating changed me not by breaking me, but by teaching me how deeply I deserve peace. I lost sleep, not dignity. I lost illusions, not value. I lost nothing that was ever mine. And now that I’m leaving, I am not leaving in anger. I am leaving with my eyes open, with the truth fully named and no desire to argue with it anymore. I am leaving what betrayed me, what lied to me, what asked me to shrink so it could stay comfortable. I leave without wishing you harm, and without wishing you well. Some endings don’t need blessings, they need boundaries. This chapter ends here. Not because it meant nothing, but because I matter more. What I carry with me is mine: my faith, my softness, my discernment, the strength it took to walk away without needing you to understand. From here on, I choose peace without apology. I choose a love that does not wound. I choose a life that does not require my silence to survive. And how exciting, how thrilling, how joyous it is! The heavens are rejoicing with me. I have waited for the day I didn’t love you anymore. How amazing! Hey, Mamma Mia, watch me go again!
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57
Ode to the woman that stayed Ode to the woman who let her heart deceive her To the naive heart that only knew love for him To the young woman who rejected to be saved To the young woman who had to learn the hard way Ode to growth For once she thought love will fix it all For once she thought it will work all out For once she thought not all nights are for sleeping For once she thought she had to give it another shot Ode to the regret she feels now To the woman who had to find out the hard way that one sided love doesn't fix it all To the woman who had to find out the hard way that you do not wait to be validated Ode to the young heart Ode to the woman who let love lead her astray Ode to the one who grew from the ashes Ode to regret Ode to true love and chances of it missed, now gone and distant Ode to the nights.... Ode Ode to the quiet ache beneath her ribs To the dreams she folded away like letters unsent To the girl who watered deserts hoping they’d bloom To the moon she trusted to pull back tides of hurt Ode to the woman with trembling hands Who stitched herself together thread by thread Ode to the voice that rose out of broken things Like dawn breaking through a window she once closed Ode to her becoming tender, relentless Ode to the bones that learned how to bend without snapping To the spine strengthened by every no she swallowed To the heart that still opened after winter Ode to the woman that stayed long past her own comfort Yet somehow still found her way home Ode to the love she learned to pour inward Rich, patient, golden as morning light Ode to the lesson To the wound that taught her wisdom To the memory that softens, though never disappears Ode to her rebirth.
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Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 3:32 PM UTC
Ode to the woman that stayed
Ode to the woman that stayed Ode to the woman who let her heart deceive her To the naive heart that only knew love for him To the young woman who rejected to be saved To the young woman who had to learn the hard way Ode to growth For once she thought love will fix it all For once she thought it will work all out For once she thought not all nights are for sleeping For once she thought she had to give it another shot Ode to the regret she feels now To the woman who had to find out the hard way that one sided love doesn't fix it all To the woman who had to find out the hard way that you do not wait to be validated Ode to the young heart Ode to the woman who let love lead her astray Ode to the one who grew from the ashes Ode to regret Ode to true love and chances of it missed, now gone and distant Ode to the nights.... Ode Ode to the quiet ache beneath her ribs To the dreams she folded away like letters unsent To the girl who watered deserts hoping they’d bloom To the moon she trusted to pull back tides of hurt Ode to the woman with trembling hands Who stitched herself together thread by thread Ode to the voice that rose out of broken things Like dawn breaking through a window she once closed Ode to her becoming tender, relentless Ode to the bones that learned how to bend without snapping To the spine strengthened by every no she swallowed To the heart that still opened after winter Ode to the woman that stayed long past her own comfort Yet somehow still found her way home Ode to the love she learned to pour inward Rich, patient, golden as morning light Ode to the lesson To the wound that taught her wisdom To the memory that softens, though never disappears Ode to her rebirth.
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42
How disquieting it is to know the true character of a gentleman in name only, the one the world calls “good.” Polished. Charming. Allegedly virtuous. Behind closed doors? Less “gentleman,” more “director of a very small, badly rehearsed tragedy starring only himself, his ego, and a remarkable talent for self-deception.” It is almost scientific, the way he crafts a public self gleaming, faultless, polished to the point of absurdity while the private self skulks in shadows, clutching half-truths like a toddler with candy. You witness it, catalog it, and suddenly, you are burdened with the most inconvenient of tasks: organizing a one-person, traveling exhibition of the real him for friends, family, anyone who ever praised him for “integrity” or “charm.” Well Santa Claus is not real. But worse this Santa is a bad, bad fellow. The kind who hides coal in your stocking, eats all the cookies, blames the dog, and insists it was a generous act. Yes, generosity according to him: selective, self-serving, and absurdly performed. And so begins the tour: living rooms, dinner tables, group chats, whispered phone calls. Each reveal delivered with the subtlety of a foghorn, the flourish of a poet wielding a sledgehammer. Yodalayhee… lore and behold, he is a bad, bad fellow. I will describe the very fabric he is stitched from, thread by thread, with the precision of a tailor and the theatricality of a stage director. Every seam, every flaw, every glittering patch of hypocrisy... laid bare. This tour is coming to a house near you. Tickets are free, the commentary is merciless, and the cookies… well, you can keep your own. I’ve been played, ladies and gentlemen.
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Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 12:57 PM UTC
I've been played
How disquieting it is to know the true character of a gentleman in name only, the one the world calls “good.” Polished. Charming. Allegedly virtuous. Behind closed doors? Less “gentleman,” more “director of a very small, badly rehearsed tragedy starring only himself, his ego, and a remarkable talent for self-deception.” It is almost scientific, the way he crafts a public self gleaming, faultless, polished to the point of absurdity while the private self skulks in shadows, clutching half-truths like a toddler with candy. You witness it, catalog it, and suddenly, you are burdened with the most inconvenient of tasks: organizing a one-person, traveling exhibition of the real him for friends, family, anyone who ever praised him for “integrity” or “charm.” Well Santa Claus is not real. But worse this Santa is a bad, bad fellow. The kind who hides coal in your stocking, eats all the cookies, blames the dog, and insists it was a generous act. Yes, generosity according to him: selective, self-serving, and absurdly performed. And so begins the tour: living rooms, dinner tables, group chats, whispered phone calls. Each reveal delivered with the subtlety of a foghorn, the flourish of a poet wielding a sledgehammer. Yodalayhee… lore and behold, he is a bad, bad fellow. I will describe the very fabric he is stitched from, thread by thread, with the precision of a tailor and the theatricality of a stage director. Every seam, every flaw, every glittering patch of hypocrisy... laid bare. This tour is coming to a house near you. Tickets are free, the commentary is merciless, and the cookies… well, you can keep your own. I’ve been played, ladies and gentlemen.
Continue reading...
39
It’s not the leaving that breaks me, Not the walking away. He was never mine to lose, Never a home to stay. His hands left pieces on the floor, But leaving him was light It isn’t freedom from his shadow That keeps me up at night. It’s not returning to my room, Those four walls cold and bare. I lived in silence, lived in dark, Found comfort in despair. Depression knew my name back then, Sat with me like a friend It wasn’t sadness that I feared, I knew how sorrow bends. It’s not the dream I buried deep, The one I prayed would live. I mourned the sky I could not reach, The hope I couldn’t give. It isn’t flight that frightens me, Nor heights I couldn’t claim It’s wondering if I can rise And dare to dream again. Four years of storms and emptiness, Of hollow, aching space. Then God placed sunlight in my arms, A small and sacred grace. My sun... my breath, my living hope, My reason to begin. Through him I felt the world again, Felt colour on my skin. Now fear returns with gentler steps, Not heavy like before. For now I’m learning how to live, To open every door. I’m held by love, surrounded warm, No longer standing numb Still trembling as I lift my face To what I’ve yet to become. I called the quiet safety once, Believed the void was kind. I hid from hurt, from every touch, I shut away my mind. But healing hums a different song, A soft, persistent tune My light is waking up at last, My spirit reaching bloom. I’m smiling like myself again, In ways I thought were gone. I’m dreaming like the girl I was, Before the nights grew long. And though I fear the steps ahead, I’ll take them, come what may For courage isn’t loud or bright, It grows in quiet ways. So here I stand, unsure, alive, No longer wishing when Just knowing this: I’ve come too far, To ever break again. And from the ashes of my past, With trembling breath, I say: I will rise again. ♡
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Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 12:05 PM UTC
When hope learned my name
It’s not the leaving that breaks me, Not the walking away. He was never mine to lose, Never a home to stay. His hands left pieces on the floor, But leaving him was light It isn’t freedom from his shadow That keeps me up at night. It’s not returning to my room, Those four walls cold and bare. I lived in silence, lived in dark, Found comfort in despair. Depression knew my name back then, Sat with me like a friend It wasn’t sadness that I feared, I knew how sorrow bends. It’s not the dream I buried deep, The one I prayed would live. I mourned the sky I could not reach, The hope I couldn’t give. It isn’t flight that frightens me, Nor heights I couldn’t claim It’s wondering if I can rise And dare to dream again. Four years of storms and emptiness, Of hollow, aching space. Then God placed sunlight in my arms, A small and sacred grace. My sun... my breath, my living hope, My reason to begin. Through him I felt the world again, Felt colour on my skin. Now fear returns with gentler steps, Not heavy like before. For now I’m learning how to live, To open every door. I’m held by love, surrounded warm, No longer standing numb Still trembling as I lift my face To what I’ve yet to become. I called the quiet safety once, Believed the void was kind. I hid from hurt, from every touch, I shut away my mind. But healing hums a different song, A soft, persistent tune My light is waking up at last, My spirit reaching bloom. I’m smiling like myself again, In ways I thought were gone. I’m dreaming like the girl I was, Before the nights grew long. And though I fear the steps ahead, I’ll take them, come what may For courage isn’t loud or bright, It grows in quiet ways. So here I stand, unsure, alive, No longer wishing when Just knowing this: I’ve come too far, To ever break again. And from the ashes of my past, With trembling breath, I say: I will rise again. ♡
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65
A few days ago, the page turned quietly. A season slipped into another, rain softened the earth, and the sky washed itself clean. And somewhere in that shift, I changed too. My heart rearranged its furniture, my mind cleared a space for truth, and my soul long silent finally exhaled. A few days ago, light found me. Truth touched me. I reached inward with trembling hands and pulled out clarity warm, alive, unmistakable. I felt myself becoming again, a living symbol, proof that I had not disappeared even when I had forgotten my own name. For so long, I had poured myself into things too small for my spirit things unworthy of the light in my eyes, the music in my smile, the quiet grace in my heart. Things that never deserved me. But a few days ago, something returned memory, identity, wholeness. I remembered who I am beneath the noise, beneath the scars, beneath the survival. And now? Fear cannot hold me. I am stronger, sharper, softer all at once. Wiser in my bones, gentler in my breath, more loving, more gracious, more kind than I have ever been. I am full again complete crowned with the greatest blessing of my life: my son. My beautiful, beautiful boy. So here’s to change. To choosing life again, not just enduring it. To laughter that cracks open the sky, to work that builds, to tears that cleanse, to rising higher than I ever thought I could. To selflessness without self-erasure, to good change, to breathing deeply again. Here’s to me to returning, to forgiving, to becoming, to living. And here’s to the ending I once feared: to releasing the man who broke me again and again, and finding my freedom in the letting go. Here’s to a heart no longer bound to what hurt it, a love reclaimed, a spirit unburdened. Here’s to being free.
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Nov 23, 2025
Nov 23, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
Returning
A few days ago, the page turned quietly. A season slipped into another, rain softened the earth, and the sky washed itself clean. And somewhere in that shift, I changed too. My heart rearranged its furniture, my mind cleared a space for truth, and my soul long silent finally exhaled. A few days ago, light found me. Truth touched me. I reached inward with trembling hands and pulled out clarity warm, alive, unmistakable. I felt myself becoming again, a living symbol, proof that I had not disappeared even when I had forgotten my own name. For so long, I had poured myself into things too small for my spirit things unworthy of the light in my eyes, the music in my smile, the quiet grace in my heart. Things that never deserved me. But a few days ago, something returned memory, identity, wholeness. I remembered who I am beneath the noise, beneath the scars, beneath the survival. And now? Fear cannot hold me. I am stronger, sharper, softer all at once. Wiser in my bones, gentler in my breath, more loving, more gracious, more kind than I have ever been. I am full again complete crowned with the greatest blessing of my life: my son. My beautiful, beautiful boy. So here’s to change. To choosing life again, not just enduring it. To laughter that cracks open the sky, to work that builds, to tears that cleanse, to rising higher than I ever thought I could. To selflessness without self-erasure, to good change, to breathing deeply again. Here’s to me to returning, to forgiving, to becoming, to living. And here’s to the ending I once feared: to releasing the man who broke me again and again, and finding my freedom in the letting go. Here’s to a heart no longer bound to what hurt it, a love reclaimed, a spirit unburdened. Here’s to being free.
Continue reading...
71
The shame was never mine. I carried it once... not because it belonged to me, but because silence taught me to cradle other people’s wrongs. My heart loved, purely, wildly, like sunlight spilling through cracked glass. It was warmth, it was passion, it was empathy wrapped in the softest strength. My heart continues to love. Even after the echoes faded, after the names were spoken in anger, after the world tried to tell me I was broken... I still rise whole. I was always whole. Always complete. Always Blessing. Not defined by what was done to me, but by the way I still choose to love. By the way I still find light in rooms where others left only shadows. You see the shame was never mine. It was the weight of your fear, the reflection of your unhealed wounds, the echo of your own denial. I return it now... wrapped in forgiveness, tied with peace, set free in the wind. Because I remain me. Unfolded. Unhidden. Unashamed. Blessing Still soft, still fire, still here. The shame was always yours. Never mine.
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Nov 2, 2025
Nov 2, 2025 at 2:02 PM UTC
The Shame Was Never Mine
5 feet from me an answer lies still. 2 jumps away the path to nothingness. I forgot how much strength it takes to stay alive. I forgot how much of something it takes to keep my hands from the medicine cabinet. A funny joke? I knew better, and still I am here. Ashamed, tired, but breathing. The past is a stone I can’t un-throw. It sinks, but I don’t. Not so funny joke, Hope is not shining, it’s cracked, faint, a coal I cup in my hands. But maybe, I don’t need to soar. I just need to last the night and rise, however heavy, tomorrow. I'm saying, If hope can last the night So can I. The medicine cabinet stays shut tonight. We’ll fight again come morning.
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Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 11:07 AM UTC
Hope
Kano. Your name means promise. And tonight, under this sky, your mother makes one. I vow that we will live. We will not trade our days for dust. We will not bow to a world that forgets the taste of rain or the voice of the wind. We will feel the grass between our toes, and let the earth’s heartbeat guide our own. We will plant food with our hands and eat it warm from the sun. We will drink water that remembers its journey through stone and root. We will wear our hair as it grows from our souls, no mask, no shame, no weight that isn’t ours. We will dance to music that shakes our bones, and laugh until the stars lean in to listen. We will love so fiercely that no shadow can survive in its light. Kano, I vow to raise you in truth, that you are enough, not because of what you earn, but because you are. I vow that when you look at the world, you will see beauty first, and when you see pain, you will answer with kindness and courage. And when our time here is done, we will leave with hearts full, hands warm from holding each other, and the joy of knowing we kept our vow. We lived. We relied on each other🤍
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Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 5:22 PM UTC
Kano's Vow
Yeah, we’ve got holes in our lives- the kind that don’t close, just scab over and split again. Maybe this is the first day of my life, or maybe it’s the day I remembered who the hell I am. The fighter's back. Not the brave kind, not the noble kind. The kind that comes when nothing else works. The kind that shows up when the world won't let you rest. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t feel. She doesn't love. She survives. That's it. She’s cold steel and clenched jaw, no softness, no room for it. The heart? Closed. Locked. You won’t find it in her. Because feeling would break her- and she’s got no time to break. I wanted ease. I wanted to be gentle, especially now... Carrying life inside me. But gentle doesn’t work in a world that bites first. And so she came back. The other me. The one who doesn’t flinch. The one who doesn’t hope. She's savage. She's smoke. She'll do what has to be done and feel nothing. Don’t mistake it- she's not here because of love. She’s here in spite of it. For my child, I wanted peace. But what they’ll see now is a woman with eyes like war and hands that only shake from adrenaline. There’s no love with her. Just the fire. And in the fire? No one survives unchanged. Not even me.
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Jul 13, 2025
Jul 13, 2025 at 11:12 AM UTC
Why you gotta worry me for?