You, petrified,
overdosed on the anesthetic-
analgesic,
relapsing every atom,
in every molecule,
of every tissue,
in every muscle,
causing your body
to atrophy
leading to your death.
Forgive me
for not killing
you peacefully.

Thy drunken bitterness

Extirpating under the exoderm

Had thee been laying_ poisonous

Enslaved by thy aromatic principles

Routing my breast thy nocturnal hush

Had thee been my god..

It’s Tuesday morning. I’d thought, until Leeza corrected me, that Thanksgiving was today.
“Thanksgiving always falls on Thursday, dorkus,” Leeza said Sunday, at breakfast (extirpating my hopes). “Besides, notice we haven’t been cooking?” She added.
“Good point.” I chuckled disappointedly.

Later, Lisa, Leeza and I had just got back from the pool where we saw John Krasinski and Emily Blunt. Leeza told me that Paramount studios has a condo, somewhere - on the 29th floor - where celebs stay (When you don’t know where something is, it’s on the mysterious 29th floor). Peter missed it. He didn’t join us because it’s a saltwater pool and it stings his warm but delicate, deep brown eyes.

I wondered what Peter was doing - push-ups on the balcony or something probably. Who knew he exercised so much? There’s a whole state-of-the-art gym but he likes exercising outdoors. I checked and yeah, there he was, on the balcony in the 46° wind, doing curls or something with elastic bands.

I sipped on some of Karen’s (Lisa & Leeza’s mom) nummy cinnamon-apple-cider and watched him for a few delicious minutes. Peter really is kind of fire, I decided. Then I popped my head out, “Come shower, Lisa wants to go out,” I announced. He just nodded and began packing up. I ran for my room to shower first (we share a shower).

Truth shall ever be contained in the mind
The decider, debater of life
Collaborating with the body's output
Allowing the face with lies and truth to bind.
But power is described among some
To deceive the ****** risks,
Extirpating all traces of truth to find.

Sit me next to her beneath
the same dark cloud
that hovers and fulminates,
grey and gloom.

Let me feel the pain and aches
of weary bones in a putrid soul,
drench me in echoes of groans
and moans
of a body that writhes and twists in
violent jerks
rejecting the very life pined over
and prayed for.

The windows to her being
a misty-haze, downcast,
extirpating what zeal is left
forever longing for that one day
when feeling will be extrinsic.

They huddle beside her,craving
her touch,
once warm and soothing
now flaccid and frosty,
as if they too, sense their mother's
demise creeping nearer to thee,
savoring each moment as if it were
last.

The hushed whispers of a voice broken,
tormented by watchful eyes of thy fruit
of the womb,
pleading and begging for her
perpetual breath lest they be mother-less.

Let me wail with her
when she weeps for her children
when she curses the past and admonishes
the future depriving her,her heart's
importune,
allow me to impale her clattered mind,
pick through her thoughts to understand
and not judge.

On her death bed,discouraged
she waits,
only fate can take away...

By Catherine Magodo Mutukwaa

I don't know you
And I don't know where you are
But this is to you
Because you are too beautiful
Too beautiful to be treated this way
You used to be unfeigned

He is virulent and turbulent
He gives no love or solace
He cannot amend

Does he feel better now?
Better for marking you?
Better for forcing you?
Better for treating you as if your nothing?
Better for extirpating you?

You are too beautiful
Too beautiful to be treated this way
You are majestic, altruistic, and genuine

Please darling
Please you majestic and mysterious women
Please take a deep breath
Stand tall
Be brave
And then..... be happy
Because you my friend
Are **too beautiful