Posted in Poetry

That Friend Called Pain

We should sue pain for breaking and entering

for coming in unannounced, without using the doorbell;
without taking off his shoes at the door, or bringing wine and
flowers at his visits;
for letting him tell me everything I was scared to hear, for
bringing up past memories and future cares;
for telling me how I caused my Father’s death, and how I
couldn’t even help my mom;
for giving me bills unending, and medical reports no one
wanted to read;
for closing the wine bottle and carrying its glasses away,
so I could stand before his majesty and look him in the face;
for exercising omnipotent rights, and for telling me how no one
could stop him from coming in;
for a billion things, two billion if the judge won’t mind

We should sue pain for breaking and entering

for letting our hearts knit, and for watching me fall in love with him;
for the chocolates, and jewelries, and all things too shiny;
for the cake at the bake shop, music at the open mic, dinner on roof tops,
and love in Paris;
for perfuming the beddings with verbena, and expensive lavenders shipped
from the Mediterranean;
for adorning the bedside with endless lilies, and cassia too numerous
to count;
for uncovering me at first chance, and luring me into a closed spiral;
for breathing upon my neck, those promises and endless tales, and for
holding me down till the morn;
for leaving me uncovered and breathlessly ashamed;
for leaving unannounced just as he came

Fabian Godwin O.

Posted in Healthup with GJ

Semicolon (;)

Dear, ALian. Today, we mark the World Suicide prevention day.

There are two entries on Suicide I’d love to share with you today:

1. Suicide; a memoir

2. Not today

And one podcast epidode: Suicide and suicidal ideation

Peace. Health. Wholeness.


Posted in CocoAbba


Hello, ALian. 💜

I finally decided to gift you Springing. First written on the 11th of December, 2021.

Sometimes, some days, you’ll just want to crawl into a cave someplace where you cannot be found, to sit there and cry. To cry till every tired, sad, disappointed and frustrated cell in your body washes out in the tears and form a pool.

You’re not scared that you may drown because even if you drown, you cannot die (at least if you could you’d have eons ago). Somehow, it doesn’t seem appropriate to say you drowned if you do not die… Or is it now?

Sometimes you want to run away from your body for a few days. Not forever of course—just a few days of not feeling, not knowing, not needing, not wanting. To be a soul, just…
But, beggars cannot be choosers, at least so they said, so all you do is laugh hysterically and wait for ‘your time’.
Your time will come… Or not?

Because how do you begin to unpack this, this, this nameless thing (leech?) attached to your soul, eagerly consorting to devour every ounce of joy.

How could you have lived all your life without ever finding satisfaction?
Have you ever been satisfied?
Why does it feel like the version of Jesus you fell in love with is a scam through and through, because how else can you explain these inconsistencies? Last I heard, Jesus is always faithful, right?

Poster child for joy wey no get joy. What a joke!

Light of the world wey no dey light up even im backyard! What a wawuzu.

How did you become a shadow of yourself? Wait. Do you even know yourself?

Who are you?
Where are you?
What are you?
The more important questions that never get asked. The questions that determine ‘How are you?’.

Why are you…? Why do you…? What are these weights? Who gave you so many burdens? Why are you sooooooo unserious? Don’t. Even. Laugh. You brute! 😂

15 seconds of seriousness you can’t maintain!

Happy child. Sad child. Just child… Child becoming. Child scared. Child afraid. Child vulnerable. Child growing. Child… Child.

Child loved.

More than anything. I think this is the scariest reality that you, dear, are loved. Wildly loved. It’s almost unthinkable, incomprehensible, but yet, crazily true. You are loved.

God has at all times brought you people who love you and sometimes all you need(ed) to do is love them back. Love them fiercely.
Don’t run. Talk. Communicate. Let them know you love them.
Close your eyes to the circus, the wild crowd. The people who matter are a handful. Do this for them!

You will win. You are already… You just can’t see it, because you ain’t looking there.

It’s in the way the smiles answer to your name. It’s in the way your hugs bring up fond memories. It’s scary but possible. You can love and not hurt. You can be loved and not hurt.
You can be whole. Again.

Because, Abba made you whole. Made: past tense for when he created you and past tense for when he healed you. Abba completes you. Rest in that completion.

In that grace. The grace that made you…makes you whole

And if you never do anything right, let it be that you loved Jesus and you allowed Him love you. Let that be your focus, to love Him first. To love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind, and to let the Lord your God love you…To allow Him love you is to let Him love through you.

No pressure. None here. Not in this space. Not in your space.

All good things will come as you wait it out.
… And you will find rest for your soul.