Storymoja

Celebrating East African Writing!

Alone by Olivia Kidula


An overpowering addiction
A mental affliction.
Affects all diction,
marring the line between reality and fiction.
Every act, goes against intuition,
Every nerve, fights the contradiction.

Its existence,
possesses every fraction of my soul,
seeps through every crevice in my brain,
becomes the pulse in my veins,
becomes the reason I am whole.

The intensity,
reaches into my heart,
holds it in its hands,
caresses it with the care of a mother holding a child,
touches it with gentleness greater than that of silk.

Its existence,
its intensity,
its enthralling beauty.
My gift.
My life.
My joy.

My curse.

The facade drops,
the smoke clears,
the reality dawns.

The bleakness of the future,
washes over me,
with the impact of a tidal wave.

The terror permeates,
descends over the false parade,
and all hell breaks loose.

The once gentle hold,
becomes a vice like grip,
and slowly strangles the life out of me.
and when the world begins to fade…
to black….

It stops.

And the silence…deafening.

The darkness scatters.
Light returns.

It is calm,
quiet…
far from peaceful.

And at that instant, the horror dawns.

I am all

ALONE.

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