Words;too many too late.

…sometimes I don’t know what to do with apologies, you know ? Do I keep them on a shelf like trophies or use them as a ladder (what we call experience) ? Either way,I don’t know… Neither feels right. 

-The Prodigal Returns

(c) Charis2017 

Photo credit:@islandbiophotography on ig

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CHAPTER X

I feel a drift within

An uncertainty like how deep the sea really is?

It’s wavy out here

And I’m scared

Scared of the dots I can’t put together 

The photographs of still times are scattered across the oceans

And I wonder, will the images ever move again?

Will laughter still echo?

What will the waves swallow….

me!

you!!

Us?
©OilRichBotuo 2017

CHAPTER Z

the echoes of our love and laughter could be heard miles from the capital 

It was wavy out there for a while 

Our hearts paradoxically racing with fear and love 

Our minds awandering in the twirls of the cold night 

With the hope of a warm embrace 

The shackles of confusion broken by the power of love 

The bond of loyalty and truth etched forever in our hearts 

Never again shall we walk this path 

Never again shall we be adrift of each other 

Let it be known that we brewed our love in the pots of our hearts 

Laughter will surely echo 

As we walk the waves 

To the path of the original family’s ” Always and Forever”. 
© Nii Sowah Khartey 2k17

Original photography: Bryan 

Chapter V

dear heart,

just do nothing. 

say nothing. 

be still.

quit interfering, 

and wanting to be something you’re not.

let my eyes be,

and my mind return to what it once was.

you make everything difficult. 

you seek for stars between the sky and earth. 

you set fires in fields,

then celebrate to see a shoot which survived your carnage. 

you turn whispers to shouts 

and pain to elation. 

you change my mind,

 and paint my heart in your colours. 

so stop, 

be still.

dear heart,

do nothing. 

be nothing. 

(c)Charis2017

Blue Smoke 

The taste lingers in my mouth and my lips feel dry…

Mucus,gathering in my throat doesn’t feel quite right yet.

But I take another drag on my cigarette, 

Watching insignificant blue smoke curl up,

higher and higher into nothingness. 

Exhale.

White smoke rushes out,

masking my vision. 

But that’s fine, I feel more in control now.

Tapping against the coaster.

Inhale.

Settling more comfortably into my seat,

I see clearly through the screen of my own creation.

What matters truly and what doesn’t, 

What the years will do to you and what moments can unravel. 

I sit here, bathed in white.

And in those moments, 

I am.

Reborn.

(c)Charis

3/05/2017 ​

Image courtesy of Google