A farewell poem to a broken coffee mug, exploring grief for everyday objects. Find solace in this reflection on healing, and the beauty of our own cracks. Read for a moment of comfort.
Category: Poems
The Shape of Survival
I didn’t plan to write this book. These are scattered lines and words I wrote as the came to my head. They are prayers I whispered sometimes, and sometimes moments I remembered that made me smile. Some days I just wrote because I wanted to breathe or let go of some pain I felt. These… Continue reading The Shape of Survival
Backwards – A Prose Poem on Healing and Self-worth
I wrote this poem for her — the younger me who believed the voices saying she was too much. This is the rewrite. The assurance. The gentle reclaiming.
Masked
We walk with shoulders raised to our ears,counting strides as if pride alone could carry us.Our waists swing side to side,our faces carved into smiles,the perfect image the world demands. But beneath those smiles,we hide skeletons of shame and pain,stories too heavy to tell. Sometimes I laugh when I think about my life,Other days I… Continue reading Masked
In My Next Life
In my next lifeI want to marry rich. I want love to come with chandeliers.I want my bathtub filled with rose petalsbecause he’s sorry he didn’t make it to my reading. I am done with plastic basins.Buckets that crack every time I mop the floor.I’m done. In my next life,I will cry in a Range… Continue reading In My Next Life
The World Listens
Date: 12th April I'm standing where silence has more answers than people ever do.The kind of silence that doesn't ask for explanations—the kind that doesn't need me to be okay,just to be.This view looks like a story I'm yet to write,or maybe, yet to read.The hills don't pity me.They aren’t trying to fix me.They just… Continue reading The World Listens
When That Day Finally Comes
When the day comes that you finally don’t need me... Please— let me go. Set me free. With my dignity intact. Don’t shout it to the world— no. Don’t sit me down and remind me of my imperfections. No. I won’t take that. When the day comes that you finally don’t need me... Please— just walk away. And don’t look back. Don’t let my tears give you any second thoughts. Don’t mind about my heart that… Continue reading When That Day Finally Comes
The Visitor at the Window
Pain peeped through the window, holding time in its hand. Refusing to leave. I sat by the corner, hoping someone would come— take the time from its grip, and place it gently back in mine. I watched. I waited. But so did it. It waited for someone, anyone. And so did I. It was hard to let go. Pain knew. It lingered, ready to be let… Continue reading The Visitor at the Window
The Pen That Waits
The pen waits for me—patient. Unsure of what story it will keep. Unsure whether the heart is wounded or healing. But it waits, for a word—any word. Anytime now, its ink might bleed. It may bleed to the last drop. But it doesn’t care. It will wait for the words, upon command, to draft a… Continue reading The Pen That Waits
To the Man Who Came During My Healing Journey
Thank you for standing by me when my heart was still learning to trust again. When my soul was mending itself, thread by fragile thread. You walked into my life at a time when love felt foreign, when my past had left a silence too loud to ignore. I won’t lie to you—I was hesitant.… Continue reading To the Man Who Came During My Healing Journey
Nancy Atieno's Notes 