Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: Happy Ending

Hey Baby, Guess what I'm doing? Well, you don't have to guess. I'm writing you a letter. Duh. 'Why?' you're wondering. I have no idea. I could very email you or text you or something or a kiss smiley would pretty convey everything this letter will only in fewer words. The thing is, I love… Continue reading Return Mail: Happy Ending

Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: 6519; 10491

“Love is patient...” I’m sorry, but yeah how about I say fuck that. It’s been almost a year of waiting, hoping, that someday you would be here and we would both drink in the same air. A year of waiting for the opportunity to look into your eyes and search your pupils for the imprint… Continue reading Return Mail: 6519; 10491

Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: Boy Scout

Dear, I’d probably never write you anything moving. There was a time I could though – a time I could promise you the world and mean it and then dig my hand in my backpack like a good boy scout but come up empty handed. That time, I loved like I was told that I… Continue reading Return Mail: Boy Scout

Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: Yours Imperfectly

Nkemdinobi'm, I have my mother's eyes. No, not the same color, nor the same shape. But I don't cry. It's been that way for as long as I can remember. As a child I thought it was a good thing. They always called me a brave young boy who never flinched when taking his shots… Continue reading Return Mail: Yours Imperfectly

Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: This Place

Easy. That's this place that we've come to. Although if you think about it, we've kinda always been easy. Settling into each other and flowing seemingly seamlessly. Comfortable is another word I would use to describe this place, but the word has sort of become associated with old, married boring couples, and that we're not.… Continue reading Return Mail: This Place

Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: Hold My Hand

Temi, My own. I always said I was going to call the person I get married to Temi. The reason was because I didn't want to 'share' the name. Didn't want to 'prostitute' my name (for want of a better word). But this name? It's yours. I'm sure. It's how the name was yours before… Continue reading Return Mail: Hold My Hand

Return Mail, Series

Return Mail: Scrape-Scrape-Scrape

I remember you saying it, but I didn't listen to you. I was caught up in your beauty, and your fragrance, and the sweet smell of your blood, that I never realised how I was killing myself, for you. You said it so many times, "lions are meant for cages, to look at, exclaim, fantasize… Continue reading Return Mail: Scrape-Scrape-Scrape