On Depression

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There is an emptiness in your touch and a brokenness in your smile, I have tasted of that cursed fruit you nest and I know its foul taste. But because I dug myself free of that wretched place, I devote to you my eternal support, for depression is no place for this fragile human heart.

I know it’s comfy, that darkness that commands your thoughts, whispering sweet nothings and pulling pleasure strings. I know it feels good, the pain, the blood running free of that cut in its crimson glory. The release is to you an escape as it was…

Like a high

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This is how you kissed, with tongue and teeth, soothing and hurting. You were a perfect person, with all sides to the storm, and the quiet that births all. When we danced, you moved like the wind, strong and free; I floated along.

You were to me the apex of an orgasm, lasting far too long; but I am human, greed is my blindfold. So I dove deeper into all you offered, the magic and the lights, the darkness and its enticing chants. Life was perfect with you.

But you were like the sunset, beautiful and calming. Of natures fits…


Photo by Louis Maniquet on Unsplash

In this shifting reality,
you are a kiss of the wind
and a root to my feet;
for in time immemorial,
you are here and not.

In this shifting reality,
you are a raging storm
and a constant sunset;
for in time immemorial,
we fight and we kiss.

In this shifting reality,
you are my days’ end
and my walk-through life;
for in time immoral,
you’ve been everything and nothing.

Ngang God'swill N. 2021

Freedom Quest

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There’s a loud banging noise in this empty room, gushing wing knocking me off my feet. You would support me, but this room’s empty because of you, you gifted me solitude and thought me pain. And I am a poor student, but even I learned quickly, to welcome this noise, to tame the wind.

I see you in the cracks on the wall, the stains on the paint. …

Lost to Time

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She loved the kiss of the sea, how it covered her body in comforting wholeness. It was her got to place, when the world was too much to live in, when her shattered pieces began to fall apart. The sea, like mother so many years ago, was her forever comforting home. Till of course she met him.

He was like a breath of fresh air, a window in her other wise simple life, to a world of color and magic. Like her, he marveled at the sea and pleasured in its caress. Her go to place, became their go to…

A short story on Life and Purpose

Piece by Ngang God’swill 2021

“To every man is accorded a path overrun with dangers and obstacles. A path to purpose, a path to self. Only the brave make it home, for as we are built fit for this path, our functionality and prowess is limited by an underlying factor; the greatness of human greed. It is greed that pulls us away from focus, crashing us into paths not designed for our feet, burning us out and bringing our journey to an end, before we are able to taste of the fulfillment of our potential. In essence, we are our own worst enemy, not us…

There is a silver lining to every cloud — even depression

Photo by Paola Chaaya on Unsplash

For most of my life, I have battled with depression, I have struggled to run from it but conditions in my life kept it as a constant. When one source fails, the others coverup. But in the early part of 2020, while the world was battling the COVID-19, I found freedom from depression. I reached a point where the darkness was drowning me and decided to never find myself in that place again; I saw a life line, and I took it. Its amazing how love and acceptance can make everything new again.

I was feeling better than I had…

Where Souls Danced

Photo by Sebastian Unrau on Unsplash

The trees remember
how we danced in the moonlight;
but you and me, gone.

You have been everything and more

Photo by Jude Beck on Unsplash

Hey ma,

I know we see every day and it is kinda weird writing you a letter, but as you know, there are things I can only express in words. Via mediums as this. Things that my tongue has not learned to confess and truths I am not brave enough to share. But in the magic of wordplay, I find the courage to pour out my heart for all to see.

I can’t remember how we met, but I remember what brought me into the care of your love. I don’t remember how old I was, but I do remember…

Penance is a hard road.

Photo by Michael Afonso on Unsplash

Readers, this fictional work is one centered around rape, abuse, and the subtle yet charging act of penance.

Her face pressed against the wall, her muscles unable to set her free, tears pulling down her face, his breath on her neck and that foul scent of bear clouding her mind. Her voice, broken from futile screams. She felt the blood run down her thigh as he thrust vigorously, running his hands over her body and grunting in testament to the pleasure coursing through his body.
That is how she remembered it, that is how it happened.

Fru walked through the…

Ngang God'swill N.

Writer, editor, Singer. I believe Artis fruit of a genius mind."

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