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All she ever wanted was love.
All she ever wanted was to belong to someone.
She tried, at least in her own understanding, to love this man.
She loved him so much that it stopped being love… and became obsession.
And I realized something: obsession doesn’t come alone.
It carries both the good traits, and the kind that make your own child resent you.
Now her husband is tired. Completely drained.
And she’s tired too, but in a different way.
She left yesterday, saying she’s never coming back.
She never had a loving family.
Her mother was married three times, and she swore her life would be different.
But her story taught me something,
Sometimes, when you resist something too hard…
you slowly become it
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 4:41 PM UTC
To the girl no one saw.
“My Different Side”
Sometimes I look back at who I used to be
and I’m shocked by how much I’ve changed.
The girl I remember
is not the girl I am anymore.
She smiled at a simple “good morning”.
She trusted strangers
not because she was foolish,
but because she was innocent.
She loved sitting with her family,
even when no one spoke. The
Silence never made her lonely.
Her eyes lit up whenever the Naruto entrance song played.
She watched it over and over
with her little brothers
as if joy could be rewound.
She loved the little things,
treasured gestures that meant nothing
to the person who gave them
but everything to her.
She helped old people without suspicion,
without fear, but
because kindness made her happy.
She loved going to church on Sundays,
eager to learn about God’s kindness
and how strong it made her feel.
She loved to sing.
She dreamed of being a musician
but life had other plans.
She was never bitter.
Never envious.
She wanted everyone
friends, strangers, even people she’d never meet
to succeed.
She never hated anyone,
not even after her father hurt her.
She always chose to see the good in people.
She loved when her friends gathered around her,
their laughter filling the space she occupied.
Yet she was always the hidden gem
the version of me no one truly noticed.
And now,
she is fading.
Disappearing, day by day.
She wasn’t as strong as people thought.
Not as mean as they claimed.
Not as quiet as they assumed.
She loved to talk.
She cried alone after arguments
because the weight became too much to carry.
Her eyes filled with tears whenever she was shouted at.
She understood everyone
but no one ever tried to understand her.
And I know one day she will return and know how much I love and see her
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 4:58 PM UTC
I Am My Mother’s Daughter
Growing up, I used to say I wasn’t my mother’s daughter.
I saw the resemblance between us, and I hated it.
I hated it because I never got to know the younger version of her.
To me, she had always just been “my mother”.
I never imagined her as a young girl.
Never once thought she had been my age before.
I acted as if she had never been
”just a girl”
as if she hadn’t had friends the way I do,
as if her life had begun the moment I did.
But growing older has taught me something I was too young to see.
My mother was not always just my mother.
She was Kate. Not just Kate she was called Kate olafemi oju ni face.
She was a woman whose beauty turned heads,
who could walk into a room and leave men breathless.
Now, in my late teens, I see it clearly.
The more I grow, the more I become her.
The way I dress.
The things that catch my interest.
My sense of style.
And whenever I go somewhere she was once known,
my face is traced back to hers before my name is learned.
I have her smile.
Her voice.
The way she frowns at the smallest inconvenience.
The way she dances to every song
even when she doesn’t know how.
I see her in myself when someone says something tacky,
when I cover my mouth and laugh without thinking.
She does this too,
and for the first time, that realization brings me comfort.
The way I analyze things
it is exactly like her.
People used to say, “you’re becoming more like her”,
and I would argue.
But growing up has humbled me.
It has shown me how ungrateful I once was,
and how unfair it was not to appreciate what she gave me.
She gave me her life.
Her soul.
Her happiness.
And I regret not honoring that sooner.
I am strong today because I inherited her strength.
I carry her resilience in my bones.
Maybe I don’t say this enough,
but she will forever be my one and only.
So let it be known
I am, and will always be,
my mother’s daughter.
Mar 19
Mar 19, 2026 at 9:55 AM UTC
I am lost in the dark
The cold absence of light
Drifting through the space of my mind
Deaf, Dumb, and Blind
My heart lies dormant
The rhythm silent
The spark gone
Cracked, Cold, and Shattered
The stone in my chest
The weight of this soul particle
With the density of a collapsing star
Crushing, Smothering, and Dying
Silence in the dark,
Deafening,
I scream to be heard,
Unseen, Unknown, and Unwanted.
No sunrise, only darkness
The light once so bright in my life,
Extinguished.
Colors are only a memory, as the grey fades to black.
The memories start to erode,
Colors of despair,
Blue, Indigo, Midnight, Space
At my end, I see only the Hues of Blue
Jan 23, 2025
Jan 23, 2025 at 12:43 AM UTC