Ghosted
tears and anxiety replace the dopamine rush
I cry in silence and my fingers twitch to text "Why"?
But instead, I will cry these tears and dry these tears
and smile tomorrow because this too shall pass.
Oh how I long for time gone by
Where I played chess titans and mah-jong; where I dreamt and hoped And life was a petal that was blossomed and fresh, promising me so much, The good old days flit by as I listen to Lofi-girl and think of when books were my only distraction. Where are they now, all faces of my youth, the kind, the sneering, the racist, the good, all disappeared in a haze of painful memories. Those days were kind because of my hope, So I dreamed and read and wrote and hoped, In the streets of Kado, in the confines of Plot 14 Bamako Street, in Gwarimpa, I had to hope
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