“Broken,”she said, “I am broken,” you should have seen her say it, elated, furiously inspired, you could see she was tired, by her scars you could tell she had been through it but in no way was she defeated. Torn, yes but not defeated. “Am finally at the end of all my efforts.” She looked down at her hands and looked back at me, and slowly smiled, a smile that reached her eyes. A smile that came from inside, from a twisted  but brave place. You could see her dark soul gaining some light, you could also see the darkness fighting for grip, fighting her for what it wanted, to consume her. She was fighting fiercely, tired but fiercely. “I am between a rock and a hard place,” she giggled a little then said, “in fact I can barely feel the rock, I am just in the hard place, a very hard, cold and sinister place.”

She touched her arms, like she was feeling them for the first time, feeling her scars, her war torn temple, her battle ridden soul, “I am torn, shredded to bits. The world has had its way with me, they had their fun and left. I have been used and abused. Been lied to, enticed and fooled. The world hurt me, I put up walls , walls they tore down. I can’t keep anything out anymore, am tired I don’t have the energy anymore, Am tired, exhausted, the fight has left me but am still here.” She smiled, in this place, in the pain, in the emptiness. She smiled in what I saw as her end, her destruction. She was officially the show, the clown, they had come and orchestrated her demise, and their they where watching, the greatest act on earth, her life to its very bleak and expected end, yet she still smiled.

“I can hear your thoughts,” she said, “give it time, you will understand,” she continued.I then asked her because I was bothered why she was smiling in a storm, in all this darkness, and then she said “They had their fun and left, they didn’t take me with, they took the fleeting joy of breaking me, but they left me, they left my spirit, my soul.I am still here, she grinned am still standing, am still here. Its true, I am the show but its also true that I get to determine its end, but more importantly its new beginning. the storm knows am a force to be reckoned. I get a new piece everyday the last couple of days,” she said , “a piece? I asked “a piece,” she responded, “my fresh start, from the broken pieces and some new, the lessons are my new beginning, Broken is part of the process of greatness.” She smiled, eyes as bright as stars, this beautiful conflicted soul. She stood tall and strong and I was inspired by her, we touched palms as she stood on the opposite end of the looking glass.


‘This too shall pass.’


‘Ask not only that he take it away, but ask also that he gives you the strength to endure it while his will takes place.’

Mukuka Nkunde



  1. “Broken is part of the process of greatness”

    I was just asking myself, “who are they?” thinking she was spouting conspiracy theories of what cause her demise… until the final paragraphs so slap-in-the-face shows me that sho, there is more to her than shown in the bloody but beautifully articulated tragedy that is her life which she left on the page.

    Fast becoming my most favouritest – yeah I know that wasn’t a word before now 😀 – author! You words just leave me yearning for more!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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