The other side

19 Jun 2011 11 Comments

by creamandcoffee in Cream Tags: #Father'sday

Hello Lovelies, Cream here

This is going to be a short post.

Today is Father’s day and I refrained from going on twitter because all the tweets were doing my head in to be honest.

Before I even start this post let me just say I appreciate my Father and everything he has done for me and my siblings.

I was not going to blog about this but I saw something that  I wanted to address. I’m going to paraphrase the tweet because my brain is tired right now.

“people that are saying ‘Fuck Father’s day’ don’t disrespect. No matter what your father did to you, he’s the reason you are here right now”

I just want to say in reply to that is, you don’t know what a person has been through in their life. A person can only show you a fraction of their lives. You will never understand a person’s struggles unless you have lived their lives.

Young people, especially young Nigerians are plagued with demons that I cannot even begin to wrap my head around.

I was having a conversation with my friend and she telling me she could not wait to stop depending on her parents. she could not wait to move out and live her own life. She was genuinely upset that she was felt like she was running away from her parents because of how messed up her childhood was. Of course besides me and maybe one or two close friends, no one really knows about that part of her life. She’s only going to tell people who understand what she has been through because quite frankly hearing ‘No matter what your parents did to you you owe them your life’ gets tiring after a while. 

While this post was inspired by Father’s day, I also had my best friend in mind. Her Father passed away recently, and while everyone around the world is celebrating their fathers or their mothers who took up that responsibility, I had her in my mind since the day started. I cannot possible imagine what she is going through today so I decided to share this poem I wrote about her. My own way of showing her that I’m always here for her.

 

My best friend is the first kiss

a 13 year old boy shares with his crush

in a coat closet…

brown skin glowing with perfection,

eyes the color of the sun at night

the body of an Egyptian belly dancer,

my best friend is the 8^th wonder of the world.

She’s an artist

so her hands were reincarnated

from Picasso’s flesh and bones,

she uses her rainbow colored imagination

to paint pictures that hang proudly

in roman churches.

She’s a Pisces… like me

and they say we are feisty

but she’s a shy pearl hiding in

the comfort of her shell…

my best friend is the grenade buried

underneath the parched African soil

she is a planet with

her own solar system,

an addiction that leaves you at the edge of your seat

gasping for air

slapping your veins

feigning for another hit…

she has the courage of a suicide bomber

with her heart strapped to her chest

naked wire veins pulsing with strength…

my best friend is the secret you write

on the front page of your diary,

private thoughts you want to make public

like how her hugs feel like a million feathers

caressing your skin

and how her laugh sounds like a Tsunami

hitting a mountain.

My best friend is the humming bird

bringing life to a blind man’s ears,

she is the reason God created Adam

she loves like cupid’s last arrow

but he never shoots her because

he cannot imagine living without

his heart.

My best friend is the hope a survivor feels

after a natural disaster,

a natural beauty growing even in the midst

of disaster and she reminds me

that it’s possible to be surrounded by so much pain

and still come out smiling

like refugees finally seeing the sun

after years of living under gun powdered clouds.

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