This is a short story, I haven’t written anything in a while, just wanted to drop this here, it’s fictional so I’ll appreciate your comments. Thank you.

I’ve always been there, a statue, never changing, never moving, the ever-reliable Jo-Lynn, the last child of my parents, why am I like this, why was I born calm? There’s no fire in me, no anger, no passion, no desire to react, no zeal to be more why am I Jo-Lynn?
He hit me for the first time when I was six years old; a belt buckle is harder than it looks y’know? It can split your skin; you can feel the pain in your bones, why would she let him hit me like this? Did she hate me? Does she hate me still? I don’t know, I’ve never known, hate is such a strong word but appropriate, she watched him hit me, again and again and again with no plea from her, she said I deserved it, I was to be seen but not heard, why does he hate me so ? My brothers and sisters? They look at me with scorn and anger, with spiteful tears in their eyes, wishing me death, a fate even worse than death.
I am a product of rape, a mistake they said, a failed abortion, bad-blood runs through my veins, blood from a criminal, I think he has bad taste and was un-naturally horny, I mean my mother is no beauty, I look too good to be hers, apparently she doesn’t hide the details from me, he was fine I suppose, dashing even, my father I mean. They told me who I was or still am when I was ten, the real me, who my father was, I guess I don’t deserve love or kindness, I’m a mud-blood; dirty.
I got sent to school, very beautiful experience, I was a loner, be seen and not heard, I did just that, “never speak to anyone unless spoken to”, that was my motto. Valedictorian, Best graduating student, beautiful job, the hatred still from my family, the anger at my success, the pain at my joy,” keep moving, never stop”. My other motto.
It hurt to look at him, he was so handsome, so beautiful, I have no mama, and so no one warned me about his type, I was a virgin for lack of opportunity, who would want to do the class freak? He said the right words at the right time, did the right things at the right time, it was too good to be true, I don’t deserve this, this happiness, I’m a mud-blood, I bring anger, pain, sorrow, why does he love me? We would wait till my wedding night he said, sent from heaven, my husband now.
Ice-Lynn, he called me, “cold as ice”, he said. “So cool, so reserved, no passion, no fire, no response, even in our bedroom”, he said to his friends. “A bore to me really”. Ice melts, the dam broke, my ice turned to tears, his words kindled a fire in me, an unquenchable fire, I tried to learn, to please him, how does ice turn to fire in such a short time, no more numb, no more composed.
I got home early today, his car was parked outside, these shoes, they look familiar, so familiar… They were having sex in our bed, the whore, the whore who begot me, the whore who made me into ice, who killed all feelings I have ever had, she looked at me in the eyes and smiled, he hadn’t seen me yet, kept on going at her, like his life depended on it.
A belt buckle is harder than it looks y’know? It will crack a skull if hit with anger and rage, the blood, so red, beautiful color, someone said it shows confidence when worn, I was wearing red now, my husband kept looking at me, so quiet now, he was in shock I suppose, I started taking off my clothes slowly, wiping the blood from my hands on my cheeks, smearing the blood on my skin, now he can see the fire in me, the passion, we made love in her blood, smeared all over us, slowly, building up, then fast, then slow again, so much fulfillment, so much joy.
Death gives me fire, I need fire to keep my husband, have you offended me? Have you made me sad? If yes, then you’re on my list, might not be the next but you’re on my list still.


Daddy’s little girl

Ikana, I don’t know you really well but I know your pain, i’ve lost someone who’s like a dad to me, the pain just keeps going round your body. Numbing you, I don’t know.

Early morning drives to school,
Kissing skinned knees and acting tough.
Taking me out for a drive because I look sad.
Icecream on a Sunday afternoon after church.
Surprises out of the blues.
The best gifts.
My 5&6
Less nagging,
Lenient mind.
My first love, my superman, my hero.
My bestfriend, My father.

We’re little girls still,
Why should we suffer like this ?

Daddy’s little girl forever and a day
Please God don’t take my hero away
So lonely, so cold, tired of these songs
Play something else, get out the gongs.
Sing about me, I’m dying of pain.
My heart is breaking, going insane.
I want my daddy back, I want my hero back.
Can you hear me God, have you turned your back ?
Answer me, give me a sign, say something.
Don’t let me go, say something, anything.
I’m a sinner, forgive me, do me this favor.
My world has gone black, give me my colour
My knees are scraped, my hands hurt.
Praying to you God, a miracle have I sought.
Show me you love me, the love I hear about.
Give him back, I want him, I need him. I can’t go without.
I can’t cry, my mind is numb, help me.
My heart’s bleeding, do something, save me.
I can’t go through with this, i’m just a little girl.
Get me out of this dream, i’m just a little girl.
I’m still my daddy’s little girl.
Don’t let my daddy go away.
Please God.

RIP Ikana’s dad.
God knows best.



The pink stands for my childish side, the cheery good moments, the happiness, joy and all. The simplicity in growing up.
The black is for my adolescence & youthful stage, the depression, anger, pain. Unnecessary sorrow, the lack of zeal and happiness.
They keep conflicting, the depression is/was winning. So it’s BlackVsPink.


Writing room

It’s very big, white all through with splashes of black, really quiet, pictures representing love around me, a big bed, a large window, not too cold, not to hot, my glasses on and cartons of Fanta & Skittles there. Someone i’m in love with holding me. That’s all I want.



You’re my diamond, can I give you my heart ?
I’m dedicated, like a fan to a club.
You’re my winning card, my ace of spades.
Make my house a home.
Love me ?
I’ll never hit you, i’d only hit that.
These hands are here to protect you.
These shoulders are yours to lean on.
We will argue, we will fight.
Never splitting.
We complement each other, two halves of one.
I dey misbehave, correct me.
We’re in this together, 2 peas in a pod.
Be mine, never leave me.
My woman, my life.
The reason I keep going.
Light when there’s only darkness.
Hope when my door disappears.
An oasis to my thirsty soul.
Let me take care of you,
Watch you grow old and more beautiful.
Be together.
Both of us, forever.


Despair 1

The 1st one.

Ecstatic, joyful, happy.
My best feelings of all.
Hyper-active, not even slightly grumpy.
Start of something new, end of the dull.
Things are starting to change, flowers dying.
People are changing, turning sour.
Save me, please, I can’t stop crying.
Depressed, losing hope, too young to cower.
But i’m me, still me, i’m scared of the future.
Life has started losing it’s meaning.
More pressure, no pleasure.
A broken past that needs fixing.
My words cease to rhyme.
Teach me how to be young again.
Save me from my tears.
The salt keeps entering my wounds.
Crawling on broken glass.
Blood, bleeding slowly.
Dying, blood and salt.
Losing the essence of my existence
Tug of war in my mind.
Old or young, let me know.
Confused, loss of words.
Letting go.
Eyes closing
Zeal, emotions heated.
Tired of trying.
This blade never looked so good.
My hand never looked so appealing.
Cuts, cuts, so red, so beautiful, so neat.
I love the pain, so orgasmic.
Red against my pale skin.
Crimson really, my life’s blood.
Flowing away slowly, body going numb.
Cold, so cold, fading.
Ecstatic, joyful, happy.
My favorite emotions.
Happy to go now.
Stiff, the pain is ebbing now.
Dying, dying.