Until now.

I am starting to see life for what it is.
A series of mistakes, that if repeated, lead to destruction of self.

Languishing in it makes misery my home.


I could push past myself and love me ’cause I’m lovable.

I am starting to see love for what it is, not what I want it to be. All the words I hold in my tongue so I don’t offend you and the decisions I make despite your advice. And the frustration you have with my ways.

My frustration with you not being on my side.
You won’t love me to my death bed, I heard you say that.

I don’t want to be the kind of person that constantly surpresses who I am and what I want to fit into a world that couldn’t care less.

I don’t want to run away from things that haven’t happened yet.

I fell into the darkness I thought was myself and couldn’t get up.

Until now.

I am loving myself. It means looking her in the eye every day and giving her pleasures she’s never had.

And that’s okay.

The three Fs.

Friends aren’t awards to hold onto to make you feel like you are enough. They are feathers floating in the wind, and they can kiss your cheek if they want to. They are hailstones from above, some cold, some hard, all falling just like you. All just like you.

Family isn’t a word used to lable people you love a lot, or people you share blood or bread with. It is a person or people that never left you, even when you were being a little crazy… whether it was justified or not.

Followers are people who see something in you that they want to keep seeing. Or people who were bored that day… Either way

I have found myself craving attention lately, I can’t lie. So thank you.

Friends, family and followers.

We are all these, at different times.

I want to say thank you for making me your friend, your family, your follower.

I am just like everyone else here. I just want to feel heard. Thank you for listening.

I love you.

Mutheu wa Mbula

To my babies.

Baby, it’s too early in the morning for resentment.


Please have your tea, eat your brekie and breathe.


The world and its shit will be there when you are done with your me time.


So let the apple cinnamon tea in and take your time with your conquest.


Your magic isn’t short lived or fast acting.


It’s slow and savory, and succulent, sour and sweet.


And slow acting, slow in speech and has grammatical errors and unfinished sentences…


But it is your poems Ivy.

It is your magic Susan

It’s your power Joy

It’s your picture Sieg

Its your genius Nick

It’s your heart Eu.

It’s your love Srishti.

It’s your words Alex O.



I dedicate this post to my tribe.

And to the five years I have spent on this Platform.

To WordPress for allowing me to

Pour myself out for myself and for you guys, and for my readers.


This space has opened up my eyes, heart, soul and mouth. It has given me courage.


I love you all.






Ivy sumbi



Best friend.

There is only so much you can do. Only so much you can give until you are empty.




So empty that your mouth dries up and you can’t form words. You have no words left to love yourself.


When you are cold, and lonely in a crowd of people that you know love you.


You KNOW they love you.


But you don’t believe it.


Because you love differently and you expect them to be the difference you need.


You show up, you show out, you buy gifts, you start conversations, you end conversations. You give space and take up space.


You are loud and sharp and vulnerable. And alone.


You are.




And isn’t it the best feeling ever baby…?


Doesn’t it feel good to be still, and quiet for a few hours.


For 12 days.

For 12 months and a year.


And eventually you will want to talk again, but they won’t be here.


And maybe, that’s okay.


In the end we are our own best friends.

In the end…




Mutheu wa Mbula