Sunday, 12 August 2012

Naked Lies

image by Francesca Woodman

when you stood before me
vulnerable in love it seemed
Yet lied through your teeth
I stopped breathing;
your pretensions
smoked me blue
I struggled to understand  
your need for a smokescreen
Smog of your filth filled my lungs
beckoning death's dream

naked as I was
to your bare faced lies
I could not see them
cushioned by my own truths
to myself, or so I thought
I fell hard
cracks in your armour
exposed my nakedness
I found
my shell to crawl into
save up daylight until
there was enough sun 
to get back out again
bury the ground where 

we once played house


©Adura Ojo 2012

Posted for Mag 130 

Saturday, 11 August 2012

Note To This Idiot


Really wanted to write this. My hands kept shaking and at one point I wondered if the ink would spill out of the pen I was using. My overactive imagination never fails to surprise me. I get anxious thinking about what to write. I would curl up in the endless ball of paper that was my mind until it became nothing...tossed into the abyss of my short term memory. I call her 'piggy' - The bank that forgets to pay its debts and swallows up the entire paper trail - No trace at all, ever. Clever.

So back to the task at hand. What to write? To her? Yes, to her. How would I start? Hi? Hello? It was nice bumping into you the other day. I'd almost forgotten about you. Just a short note to say hi. Options, options! What's a girl to do? That's how I got into this mess in the first place. Looking at my options. Except that I did it loudly of course. I should have kept my 'options' to myself. Note to this idiot: You should carefully consider your options in your own head.

There she was - 30 - young, free, sexy, career on the upwards. Nothing could be better, couldn't be happier. A girl gets to that point where she's just happy with her life as it is, even if she does not exactly know it. But of course she has to ruin it with 'options'. Moaning about her lack of or simply brooding over it. And then she must also contend with other people's perceptions of her 'options.' "Who are you seeing at the moment? Anyone we know? You're not getting any younger, you know."  And my favourite - (*Drum roll*) "Given your credentials, do you think men might find you intimidating?" Urm...what to say? "Yes, I'm seriously considering my options." How could I not?

Ten years on, cashed in options have become high interest loans. Very expensive - and in the timely investment called life, these are non-recoverable deposits. Only one way out.

Hello Options girl,

You have a new investment. Good news...It's ripe with dividends.

You.

©Adura Ojo 2012

Posted to the Prompt: I Need a Change. Join us at Romantic Friday Writers. Lots to read. You can write a story or poem too.