MY ABAE

It’s been nine years of knowing you,

and still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

I remember our walks through VOK,

slow steps, quiet laughter,

the world moving, but never rushing us.

You would sit and watch me

as I watched the raindrops race each other on the window,

smiling like that was enough

And every time I came around,

you woke before the sun,

just to bring me Viazi Karai

because you knew.

You always knew the small things

that made my heart feel at home.

You listened to my wild ideas,

with that soft, patient smile

that made everything feel possible.

You loved me in ways

I’m still learning how to live without.

I still hear your voice,

on the other end of the phone,

telling me I’ve got this,

telling me to keep going.

My human alarm,

my quiet strength

the one who stayed up with me,

redoing my thesis again and again,

like my dreams were yours too.

And now…

what hurts the most

is knowing you were hurting,

and I didn’t see it.

You spoke with that same warmth,

that same light in your voice,

hiding the pain,

protecting me,

even in your final moments.

You were always so stubborn like that.

Always choosing me,

You told me about Wema

the land of love.

You were right.

But it felt so empty going to Tana River without you,

and even emptier leaving you there.

Did you see the roses I left?

Do you know how my hands trembled placing them down?

Can you feel how broken I am

knowing I won’t see you again

in this lifetime?

How do I say rest in peace

when my heart is still calling your name?

How do I say goodbye

when you were supposed to still be here

listening to my stories,

teasing me about the rain,

blaming me like you always did…

How do I say goodbye to you,

my Pokomo man…

How do I let go of you,

Abae…

When every part of me

is still holding on? 💔

DRAWN TO YOU

I saw you and got nervous,

A strange and sudden thrill.

I’m not the type to stumble,

But something in me stood still.

You spoke with that calm confidence,

Like years hadn't passed by since we last spoke,

The kind of charm that isn’t loud,

But somehow pulls you near.

I don’t fall for charisma,

Or smiles that light a room

But with you, the air felt different,

Like spring inside a monsoon.

Our conversations dance and wander,

They feel both light and deep,

You make it easy to open up,

Then leave me more vulnerable.

Because I don’t know what’s special

Is it me, or just your way?

Do you talk like this with everyone,

Or did we find a rare doorway?

You always leave me giggling,

A soft, unguarded high,

But I wonder if the laughter will stay,

When my mind reminds me to be guarded.

You draw people in like rivers do,

Strong, steady, never rushed,

And I’m swept into your current,

Even though I don’t give in much.

I’ve learned to question men of power,

To see beneath the gleam,

But you blur the line between,

Am I way over my head?

So I teeter on this edge of maybe,

Not sure what to pursue,

Do I let my heart keep wandering?

Or let logic pull me through?

RESTRAINT

I know the chains that hold us

aren’t meant to hurt

they keep us close.

They keep us wanting.

I could let go completely.

But what would that do to you?

To have you is to lose you.

To have me means I slip away.

our soft, secret word.

The one that saves us

from going too far.

The one that says:

I want you, but not all of you

Tie me down because

I want to kiss you,

hard, deep,

but not deep enough to leave a bruise.

I want you to feel me

But take away the temptation to scratch you,

You need to look untouched.

I know that.

So how do I bite you

without leaving my taste behind?

How do I touch you

without making you mine?

We see the world outside,

just barely, thin glass,

a breath away.

But we stay in here,

where the night holds our secrets.

And before we go too far,

before want becomes need

we pause. We pull back.

Restraint.

It’s not a no.

It’s a slow yes.

A promise

that we could go there

but we can't so we won’t.

TRACES OF ME

 He came to me

like men do,

charming, sure,

but with eyes that didn’t know

how to kneel.

He thought love was polite,

something served with flowers

and hesitation.

But I don’t bloom for men

who need permission

to crave.

I didn’t ask.

I took.

I gave him rules,

not for cruelty,

but for clarity.

Because some hearts

don’t beat

until they’re bound.

He wanted to save me,

but I was never lost.

I’ve walked through my own fire,

and now I light it

for the ones who can stand the heat.

He trembled,

but he stayed.

Let me teach him

how surrender

isn’t weakness

when it’s given, not taken.

In my world,

love has weight.

And I carried him

on the edge of pain and pleasure

until he finally understood:

devotion doesn’t beg,

it offers.

I traced every inch of him

like a map

to a country

that once feared being seen.

He asked why I chose him.

I didn’t.

He earned me

with every soft confession,

every scar he let me kiss

without hiding.

In the silence of rope and silk,

he learned how loud love can be.

And no

I never bent for him.

But he rose for me.

Again and again.

Stronger.

Wilder.

Freer.

He is mine.

Not by leash,

but by choice.

All shades of him,

and not one I feared.

Because in the end,

it was my hands

that taught him how to feel.