Sweet sense of self

Maybe I don’t like you in the way that you think I do. Maybe I just want to be calm… Like you.

Your level of zen makes me question myself.
What I want
Who I am
I hadn’t met you before now
But that quiet in your eyes
That stillness on your lips

The way you craft silence out of words
The way you attract my attention

Your lips, still but speaking to me
The flutter of your eyelashes calling me

I am not into you in the way you think.
You aren’t my muse… But damn I wish you were.

I am not asexual.
I am not sexually attracted to you.
But damn I wish I was. That would explain everything.

This heart ache would make more sense

This love in my heart would make sense.
These dreams where I hold you close… Make sense.

I don’t love you.
I want to be you.
Does that make sense?

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

Little bird

I love the taste of my name on your lips.
I want to hear you say you want me.
My mind spins trying to catch my breath as you come into me.
Taking my body and my soul at once.
Spirits intertwined
Breathing in each other’s essence

Let us make this day with love.
Me clawing my way through the skin on your back just to get through
This message, I long for days and nights with you close to me and I’ll never get enough of this exstacy

You warm me from the inside
Cool kisses scattered all over my canvas bring me to oblivion

And I fall down into the black hole of your love
Trust me with you and I will keep you forever and always.


Mwiitu wa Mbula