Featured Prose of the Week

Lita Tiara joined A Cornered Gurl recently and is now apart of our Young Minds of Medium community. At only nineteen years of age, Lita strips down to bare bones and shows us what it feels like to grow from the pain of past events. She also shows us what it is to love in the time of heartache. This week’s feature is a prose piece by the young one entitled: To Those Whose Are No Longer Near. Please, encourage her heart, beautiful people.


To Those Who Are No Longer Near

A love letter to those who left. We deserve a proper goodbye.

Photo by Yuvraj Singh on Unsplash

It was 2:47 am in the blatant morning when despondency knocked on my door, intruding my weariness. I couldn’t say that it was what I expected to keep me company, yet somehow it has taken control over my state. I am now, restless.

For some unknown reason, the gleaming cold of the lonely night hugged me from behind and harrowed my aching back. I crave to delete every thought of you as fast as how your feelings swiftly evaded from my course.

I feel a constant pressure to remove myself from every known possible equation which would resolve in me and you.

A few seconds after, my head was swarmed with the scrumptious smell of the self-made brunch that you made me many months ago. How thoughtful of you back then for remembering how I like my eggs: scrambled and salty. My mind was succumbed with joy from every bite, knowing that they were made with pure intentions to relieve someone’s hunger.

Silly me for thinking that we would last until our hair shows no other color than ivory, the color of your favorite sheets that your younger self said this would suit best the childish projection of yours — how your future home would look like when you’re older.


Dews of my reasoning wanders off to God knows where when things could no longer possibly be. It yearns to wander to innumerable possibilities of a much more euphoric version of us, yet it wouldn’t bow to any boundaries which would remove me from your suffocating grip — removing every self-pleasing notion your words have projected, “I’m setting you free”.

The minutes refuse to stop rolling into hours, hours which approach the definite dawn yet, I’m sitting in the corner of my room filled with traces of where you used to be.

Crouching, I was, with my face buried between my knees — trying to let go of your soothing comfort from my body as fast as how you threw myself out from every known possible corner of your world.

I hoard each word you spat out that day:

I don’t think things can go back to the way it used to be between me and you.

They’ve consumed me raw fearlessly, without the slightest care. I could feel how frozen your heart was at the time, as I came face-to-face with the gnashing teeth of what I reckon those words would look like in the flesh. I lost the battle.

I don’t want to deal with you anymore.

The familiarity of what best describe who I am was nowhere to be found. They are not in the places where I would expect them to be — believe me I’ve looked. I’ve grown numb to the things that are holy.


It has now been weeks and I’m not weak.

I don’t want to ease myself into the pain anymore. Was I a better person when I was with you or vice versa, we might never know.

Yet it has come to my realization that we are now both in the place where we should be: where we won’t cry anymore.

This is the goodbye that I didn’t have the chance to say—

the light I never let out.


Originally published in A Cornered Gurl via Medium.

new determination

NaPoWriMo #7

 

Poetry Over Panic: Online Women’s Writing Group

This is a good thing. A very good thing, indeed. Please head over to the original post to leave any comments or inquiries there. You’re a bright light, Ali!

flashlight batteries - poetry

“Poetry gives you permission to feel.” – James Autry

As the world shifts, I am looking for ways to give and create supportive community. With all the emotions swirling, we are faced with finding healthy ways to process them. Poetry provides powerful prompts for reflective writing and group inquiry provides a doorway into our own thinking.

My hope is that, by writing and reflecting together, we can learn from this unusual time, and face it with loving curiosity.

Tickets are available now for my new four session series. This small group will be limited to 6 participants to enable us to dive deeper into writing and sharing with each other.

Poetry Over Panic:

Women’s Writing Circle (4 week series)

We are stronger when we lean on and learn from one another.

Join me as we continue forward into the unexpected.

Love,

Ali

View original post

12

NaPoWriMo#6

Today is Jernee’s birthday. The Little Monster and I have been through so much over these twelve years and I look forward to however many more there are for us ahead. She is my comfort, my peace, and my emotional support. I cherish her and on most days, I do not have the words to fully express just how happy I am she is in my life. Here’s her birthday micropoem:

 

the sanity of birds

NaPoWriMo#5

I’ve been participating in National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo), however, I’d simply been tweeting them. I’ll start to share them here too.