Tag Archives: Advice

#89: Dying Alone

“I cried when I realized he had lived his whole life a complete lie.”

© Aisha- Nicole 2015

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The Road to 25…

  1. I need Jesus, I can’t do this on my own
  2. Not everyone will like you, no matter how nice you are.
  3. Repeated mistakes are the result of having no intention to stop them the first time
  4. Making time to work out is a work out
  5. Bills will come. Even if you try to ignore them
  6. ‘Unknown’ is code for bill collectors
  7. Saving isn’t a cute game, it’s critical
  8. You can’t say yes to everything
  9. It’s good to be honest
  10. Love doesn’t hurt, its people who do
  11. I need to work on my anger
  12. Family will always have your back, no matter how much you fight
  13. Stop and smell the roses, someone died last night
  14. It’s ok to say I’m broke.
  15. You don’t need lots of friends, just a core group.
  16. Make the most of family visits
  17. Do as much laundry when you visit home
  18. Don’t keep grudges, they give you ulcers
  19. Don’t jump to conclusions
  20. I’m still growing and that’s ok
  21. Don’t compare your life to others (repeat 7x a day)
  22. It’s ok to say I need help
  23. Keep insurance card IN the car
  24. Always leave early—that’s the day a funeral procession is on the road and you may be late for your interview.
  25. Every day gets better!

natural hair, twa, poetry

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#79: Trouble & Troubled.

Troubled news makes for troubled knees,

Troubled knees give way to wobbly streets,

Dark alleys lead to mischief,

And empty souls all look the same,

Trouble starts with the words you say,

And calamity is her shadow.

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#78: V O I D

It’s my fault,

I made you a demigod,

I expected you to eradicate the pain,

I made you more than just what you are

I sacrificed on an open altar,

Hope, dreams and what was left of a battered heart–

Desiring some sort of closure,

I pinned you to cracked walls,

And worshiped,

Day and night,

I sought an answer,

And In the end I came up with nothing,

It’s not you, it’s me—

I looked to you for something you were never able to give

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#77: It mattered then-

It mattered then-

Every last word, every sentence,

But you hesitated, mocked it and let us shatter-

Now it’s too late and you’re trying to play catch up,

Throw hundred dollar bills to the one problem you could never sold,

Trying to form a friendship with a child, who’s already grown,

I look like you, move like you,

I even stutter the very same way you do, and you think it’s pure coincidence that I cock my head to the side at every question, listening intently-

I’m splitting image of you,

Full lips,

Dark skin,

My mother genes got lost in your stubbornness,

I’m the hard knock reminder of the night you,

Should have probably thought


You were you young and defiant-

Ambitious and charming-

But my birth was a casualty,

So you zipped, up and fled the scene-

I was born to a dead father—

Loved by a struggling mother and at 33 I was introduced to you—

You look nothing like the man in my dreams, your shorter, and your ears,

Are bigger, but you look like me,

It mattered then,

To a girls who’s one request was too,

Meet her father,

But today I’m 33

And I remember I was born to a dead father, and dead you shall remain.

©Aisha-Ndlovu 2014

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#76: Do it

It’s not the amount of times you say it,

It matters,

Only when you do it

©Aisha-Nicole 2014

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#53: Easy Game

If love is a game,

They must be a loser,

One heart will suffer,

Left to ask questions that have no answers,

Screaming at silent white walls,

Reciting and rewriting every love letter,

Cursed to do the dirty work,

Left behind to investigate blurry cues of when love bid adieu,

One person will always suffer,

And the sad reality,

The truth to this game,

Is we all strive to be the winner,

Because losing at love,

Is never an easy game-

©Aisha-Nicole 2013

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#48: Naked Soul-

I sat there,



And hoping that old bruises wouldn’t alarm you,

Old scars spoke too soon,

Singing a sad tale of years I spent searching for you,

The latest bruise still wept,

And the band aid I had used and reused,

Slid off as I,


With fragmented sentences,

Tried my best to explain why barring my soul,

In its entirety,

Had become just as hard as childbirth,

Just as scary as facing the barrel of a gun,

 And just as empty as the pursuit of fame and happiness,


At the end of my monologue,

In between a shield of tears,

I waited for an answer,

Fully prepared to hear the worst,

You drew in closer,

And gave me a blanket,

The sweetest gesture I could ever know,

To a girl who had just bared her naked soul.


©Aisha Nicole 2013

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#30: Dear Mr. Right

Dear Mr. Right,


Hollywood never did a bigger disservice

Than the day they sought out to recreate loves true purpose-

As they sold prepackaged ideas,

Neatly bound in banging bodies and sexy scenes,

The definition of love would forever be challenged,

And who am I to say butterflies don’t exist,

And yes, warm bodies are hard to resist,


But you,

Mr. Right,

You are to blame,

For thousands of relationships have been slain in your name,

As little girls too young to even spell their name,

Engaged in early fairytales,



Too young to know love,

They sought her carbon copies,

In alleys, wild parties and cramped up bedrooms,

With boys who aren’t yet men,

And as passion rages,

Forget her side effects: regret and possible death,

Death of young innocence,

And doctor’s visits in white washed walls,

With lab reports that immediately kill her joy-



Dear Mr. Right,


If we only what love truly meant,

We would no longer have use for you


©Aisha-Nicole 2013

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#23: Chocolate Dates and Wild Rides

I think I’m gonna write a novel based on my Transit journey’s in the city.

No trip is ever the same nor is the waiting period for the next bus.

The only difference about this escapade from my many others was my sister tagging along for the ride. We had a double date with two local dark and delicious men. My date preferred being called Turtle Mocha and my sister was chanting it up with  hot cocoa ( he’s more of a homebody). All four of us had a great time and they were occasional bursts of laughter from our corner. We didn’t care though, good company is hard to find and it’s even harder to spend quality time with one another. The dates were amazing and my sister and I left very pleased.

Sadly I cannot share the same sentiment with our bus ride.

They were many characters on the bus ride and I was a bit tempted to take candid pictures of them. I feel that this would better illustrate my story however, if you have a vivid imagination like I do, I believe you will be fine.

Main Character: Leather Man.

He walks onto the bus, phone in hand and speaking voice at an all time high. I approve the freedom of speech I love it. I may even possibly get it tattooed on my foot one day, however, I respect other people as well. Leather man was in a deep and heated argument. From the drops of sweat that raced down his face I would estimate it had already been a 30 minute battle. After some large heaving and shuffling of a sketch backpack he continues his argument:

“OH. YOU DON’T TRUST ME?? (I’m assuming she didn’t because his voice only got louder)


He got off the bus at the same bust stop as us, and I couldn’t help think why he would air his dirty laundry. Perhaps he wanted us all to know he didn’t have a std. Either way-it was a very awkward moment. Thankfully my ear hustling skills are that of a ninja and I can avoid eye contact and listen discreetly. Although it was rather easy because leather man didn’t know how to whisper.

This was only a snap shot of the few conversations I heard which were rather sketchy. Of course I laughed to myself and realized that humans are an interesting species.

Before I forget I can’t fail to mention that we waited over an hour for our bus back- in the cold?! I’m on the verge of writing a letter to someone! I just have to find out which bald man I have to write it to.

Hope all is warm and cuddly in your lives.


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