Finding Me
NISSI MUTALE
Debut from the multi award winning blogger
Finding Me
NISSI MUTALE
Copyright © Nissi Mutale 2011
All rights reserved.
Published by Words & Wells at Smashwords
www.wordsandwells.com
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the purchaser.
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DEDICATION
To all those who loved me unconditionally. Thank you God for making me just as I am.
CONTENTS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thanks to Naomi Mutale who listened to my poems day in day out with much complaint but loads of love.
To write is to be exposed. Peeling away the coverings of decorum, charging against the wind of socially acceptable, embracing the I AM.
- Nissi Mutale
The importance of your story: real emotional healing & getting real with yourself.
Above all the other titles and boxes people may try and put me in, the one that I uphold above them all is: storyteller. I have loved stories from before I could read and once I learned to read and write for myself, enjoyed telling stories. To read is a beautiful time to enter into the mind of another individual and for those moments you are captivated by the words, you have entered in to the mind of someone else. Similarly to write is to give another person access to your thoughts and feelings, to encourage them to see the world like you do. I enjoy telling stories because they help me to understand my world, myself and my contribution to it. You have that same opportunity.
I have always believed that telling your story gives immense freedom and therefore power. To be free is in itself the most empowering state to be in. Your mind and body function better and you have the gusto to pursue things you would not ordinarily consider. So what is your story? What have you kept secret and allowed to keep you bound up in the silence of fear, guilt and self reproach?
To tell your story does not mean you have to write a book the length of ‘War and Peace’ detailing every wrong that has been committed against you. Neither does it mean that you use wrongs committed against you to humiliate and punish those who have wronged you. Instead I am talking about the quiet act of bringing pen to paper or finger to keypad and in the quietness of your home, writing things that you have not been able to say. Tell the story to yourself. I have found immense relief and peace by sitting down to write out my thoughts. It allows me to think through the events, consider the situation from different viewpoints and most importantly - let go. Writing gets the unnecessary burdens out of my system.
From page 78 onwards I have included some blank notes pages. Please use this space to jot down any thoughts or notes you have while reading. These poems have taken me on a healing and enriching emotional and spiritual journey and I am sure you will experience some of that too.
Nissi x
Why do I write?
I write to stay sane. When I write I am in my safe place. Be it songs, poems, short stories, creative essays, writing brings me a sense of peace. It also gives me a chance to think. When I am translating my muddled thoughts into a coherent set of ideas that will make sense, I am forced to find solutions. The writing process helps me to think beyond my problems and look at how I can go about finding answers. I fall in love with myself and begin to understand that I am only human, I will make mistakes but I will fight to learn from them. Put simply I write to save myself from myself.
Part I: Paper Pills
This first section of the book is a collection of peoms I wrote between the ages of seventeen and twenty one. It was a big time of change, pain, heartbreak and discovery. During this time I learned that pride certainly comes before a fall, learned to love wholeheartedly and have that love thrown back in my face, how to push past painful situations with a bag of lessons so that I do not make the same mistakes again and how to trust God even when my world was seemingly falling apart around me.
I called this section ‘Paper Pills’ because my words were a kind of mental and emotional medication for me. I can honestly say that writing has been and continues to be one of the greatest releases I have. I have given you the poems in their raw state; you will read of my anger, hunger, love, lust and confusion just as I felt it. My hope is that I will evoke a reaction in you that will cause you to think about your life and therefore find a strange but very real remedy in the words.
Nissi x
Temporary Love.
We held each other in embraces that said I understand,
I'm here when we didn't know each other and struggled to cope living lives so forcibly put together.
Like paper we folded each other into what we wanted,
drew with black pen what we wanted to see.
In frowns we realised that we must have drawn wrong
and tried to rub out with kisses.
Ink is immovable and kisses are useless.
We discovered that on this a4 sheet, pictures have been drawn that can't be removed and have left bold impressions on our hearts.
love:
The passion of yesterday quickly expired,
as the embraces of the night appeared under the morning sky
like smiles hot wired.
Automatic in expression.
Jaws exposed for attention.
Eyes piercing.
When we rocked under the moon it seemed to smile on us,
illuminated the good,
brought us together under a canopy of romance.
Romantic.
love ii
With ease I stripped and didn't bat an eyelid as you greedily, unashamedly took me in.
Unashamed.
Cheeks that once blushed under black skin
and turned away from being open,
now lay bear for the world to see.
Immodest.
Modesty was what I was clothed in and wore like gold, diamond and platinum cross crossed across my breasts, my lips, my hips, my ****
Now I was poor.
Nothing to conceal, unaware of the gems that lay underneath.
Unaware.
Like a babe nestled in the arms of its mother I nestled against you.
I knew you but I didn't and my brazeness offended u.
U licked, sipped, supped and fell asleep
Waking to turn to me but I had turned away.
In a gross morphication I had evolved into a man eating whore
Unvalued.
Value by u thrown to the pigs
Trampled on.
Open.
You broke down the barriers I built on discovering Love can be painful.
Wrapped in layers of silence,
my comfort came from being alone.
People you will not break me and cause tears to spill forth from my soul ,
Wrenching pain from the depths of my heart.
Tears the worthless emblem meaning nothing to no – one
Only to me from whom they part.
To Cry; To Release; To Express.
We talked, we touched, we thought, we expressed.
I felt myself undress before you,
shyly exposing the wounds tears had failed to heal.
You kissed, like air, my brokenness.
I relaxed and let down the barriers.
I relaxed and thought love could be painless...
Healing.
You broke me
– I accept that.
Took my heart and separated it:
Let my Insecurities,
Inabilities,
Faults and Tenderness overshadow me
- I felt that.
Made me feel so worthless, I grew breathless.
Face soaked in tears,
Heart weeping what I didn’t need but had been built into me over the years
- I needed that.
Scared.
If I set the truth in me free, will you still love me?
Can I trust you to make sense of the bundle of hurt I have clogging my aorta?
To salvage the bit of sanity I have in me left?
Will you be able to mould the softness that has caused others to take advantage into a strong woman firmly planted?
Tell me that you can make sense of my anatomy.
Understand that I cry when I’m feeling overwhelmed,
withdraw when it all seems too hard,
and talk simply to be heard.
I may never tell you that when we touch sometimes I feel empty.
Will you be able to sense that, caringly drawback, embrace me with a hug,
and show what we have is actually Love?
Just a Kiss.
As you wrap your arms around me, and look deep into my eyes,
let more than the passion between your legs swell;
picture what may lie in my soul, and the dreams I may never tell.
Begin to piece together all I have told,
Meditate on the woman you now hold.
As you kiss my soft lips, make a promise within that you will never leave.
Whilst we let our warm tongues embrace, make a promise you’ll never cause me to break.
As you feel your heart rate increase, make a promise you will always love me.
Ladies, do not be fooled as you involve your bodies in the art of sexual expression. Within your soul doors are opened that you will find hard to close. As you communicate verbally, it should be a thought out progression to physically. Why do you think even after “just” kissing a guy it can be hard to let go? If you have taken the time to get to know a guy, it is never “just a kiss”.
Words.
I love you, even though you can’t comprehend the term,
and have no interest in exhibiting this emotion towards me.
I don’t always understand you,
but I know we have different minds in which our thoughts roam free,
so for us to be in sync all the time is beyond capacity.
This thing, you may sometimes see as hate in me,
on the contrary, is me withdrawing so I can find the patience to endure
the times when we do not vibe, so we fight
and am thinking of the faults in you I promised I would never grow to like.
Believe, I love you:
I say it to myself every night.