Category: Poetry

The Final Words of Carina Smyth

The Final Words of Carina Smyth

“The final words of Carina Smyth. Good sirs, I’m not a witch but I forgive your common dim witlessness and feeble brains. In short, most of you have the mind of a goat.”

Good sir

Do you see?

Rain washes down


Drenching me

Flowing with

Thoughts of you


I am getting into a pirate phase, so brace yourselves. I am watching Taika Waititi’s ‘Our Flag Means Death’ which so far is perfection, and reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island and the captain, who was already my favorite, has fallen to his death. What’s left is curating the perfect playlist and I’ll be set.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

Scarlet Thread

Scarlet Thread

When you meet love, you’ll know

That’s what they say

Even before you see their face

How you know without knowing

A scarlet thread in play

I like that and me toos

The similarities insane

You will never think of anything like this

It doesn’t exist until it does

     Until it dies

When you meet love, you’ll pretend

Not for not seeing him

For your sanity and repeat mistakes

And you will convince love to leave

  Then whisper begging him to turn back

I love yous you won’t mean

The separation deafening

You will wish for something like it

For moons on end until

   Out of the blue, love returns

And oh! Perfection

Love will be love, you know

Hearts with melodies for days on end

Even before you see their face

   The scarlet thread of murder

I missed that and hellos

Behold, all parts still fit

Fire blazes beneath

When you return to love, it’s better

     Burns brighter

Love will remind you of…love

And the pain when he was away

Love will speak to your dreams

Deceive you to remove walls

     The scarlet thread on your heart

When you meet love, you wish!

Before your eyes, alteration

How you know without knowing

The first time you feel the shift

     Deep in your bones and scarlet

Your delusion was your folly

It will act like those that raised you

The wait for things that weren’t coming

People that kept forgetting

Breaking word

Saying and not meaning it

     It may not even realize the cracking

Hold on, baby, you’re losing it

Black as rain and you’ll say

Take me back and you’ll beg

What’s going on?

     And again and again and again

You retreat and recoil

Forgive and forget

But do you?

Do you believe?

     When you meet him, do you know?

So long, and nothing yet

Too far, train and forget

What’s going on?

     And again and again and again



Your scars shouldn’t scare you

They shouldn’t even dare provoke the vaguest idea of pain

Because what you’ve gone through is nothing compared to what is ahead of you

I hope you remember that

Because it is the only thing that matters

One Day

One Day

Right now could be painful.

Right now could be filled with so much agony than you have ever experienced.

Right now could have the kind of suffering that can almost be equated to that of Jesus on the cross. You could feel helpless. Alone.

One of those moments you need mom or dad but remember they are covered in the dirt and you can never see them again.

And your heart,

Your heart could be breaking.

Into a million gajillion puzzle pieces that makes finding pieces that go together and placing them side by side impossible.

Your could be shattered to points that you yourself cannot recognize the reflection in the mirror.

Right now could be that time you have lost your innocence. That time your world is trembling to it’s core. That time you have stood up to face your demons so many times that they have robbed you of your strength.

It could be you have just lost a parent, a sibling, a true friend. It could be you have actually lost a part of yourself in the struggle to “be good”. It could be the loss of a job or the departure of a beloved pet. It could even be the failing of exams.

It could be that you lost your way.

That you believed in one day everything being better. Being clearer. Easier.

That one day something would come your way and you would recognize it’s immaculate essence immediately.

But you lost faith. Stopped believing in the one thing that kept you sane. Stopped believing in you. In Time. In God.

And you should never.

You should not put your sanity at risk by the things that time takes to heal, and because Time heals all wounds, physical and emotional, you too will heal.

Believe it.

Shout it.

Believe that one day, your worries will ride away in the most pure of carriages into the morning sun, and your days will forever be merry.


Believe that you will smile. That you will laugh. Because without hope, is life really worth living?


I have always wanted to write about you 

Tonight I think I’ll come up with two

Two reasons to why I wake up

Two reasons that bring me back 

The first has to be those eyes

To wake and be bathed in their glory

The last has to be that skin

To sleep after touching the heavens



I’m looking at the drapes

So thick and full of life

Do they also have hopes? 

Even as they block out the light? 

Do they know what beauty they block out? 

Like a layer used to paint the face. 

Do they realize they are just but a barrier? 

And inside is a cage of rage

A caged beast lacking an outlet

A beast forced to forget

Her mind is still clear

She knows she lives a lie

She knows the drapes hang because of her mistakes

But she has to be in with the crowd

Doesn’t want to be the subject of a frown

She is concealed in a hypothetical world that misunderstands her

Barred by the chains of knowing the trends that she forgets she is a masterpiece

So she pretends to be less than she actually is

Pretends she is living a life of bliss

Yet inside the hell fire that burns is as intense as her own soul

She needs a being that understands her

One who will allow the drapes to be pulled back

She needs someone to give her a hand

To help brush off the dust

Because she knows which arrows to follow

Even as her heart remains hollow

She is a lioness crammed up in a cage so lonely

And all this I see when I look at the drapes 

And at the paint upon her face




Well, I’m 20

I have lived happy

Loved many

Felt crappy

Broken few

Been broken

But I still smile

I still live

Because there are many who no longer do

I still love

Because there are those who have never felt it

I still get to feel crappy

Because bad days are always right there

Life may not be clear

Mainly because I will still love

And for this I will still get burnt

But I’m only 20

And nobody gets to judge

Because being 20

I am allowed mistakes

I am allowed to bend some rules

Allowed to make my own decisions

So if you look this way 

And feel like walking away

I too will not judge


Till I’m older


I killed her


I killed my granddad’s one true love

The one that made him smile all day

I killed his happiness

And I am cursed

Because there is none like her

I stare down at her lifeless remains now

A tear drops

He will kill me in return

My heart breaks

I am a murderer now

I will have this follow me forever

Granddad will be back in an hour

I look for words to say but nothing comes to mind

Why did I disturb her?

Why did I have to make her fall down the stairs?

A little jealousy has cost me my evening tales of the military

Jealousy had cost me the love of my grandfather

It had cost me the hot chocolate talks with my favorite person in the world

He will never look at me the same way

I will always remind him of Lucy

Of how it was all my fault that he lost her

He will hate me

Perhaps I should also fall down the stairs

Just so I can also die with her

I killed the one my granddad truly loved

Even Chica the cat did not get that kind of love from him

She was his lifelong partner

His ride or die

And in one swift swing

I had murdered her

I had destroyed granddad’s life

I had lost my favorite grandchild privileges

In the next forty seven minutes

Granddad will walk through that door

And have his heart broken

Because he will see Lucy

Lying there on the floor

With me standing over her

And he will despise me for this selfish act

He will hate me for what I have done

He loved her too much

The kind of love that cannot be replaced

Lucy was an old soul

Her caramel skin flowed for miles

She had a beauty about her that left many stunned

And I had killed her

I should call the police

Thirty two minutes

I can’t move

I look at my hands

Her blood on them

Twenty six

Granddad should be walking home now

Home to see Lucy, Chica and me

Only that he will find two of us alive

His number one lifeless on the floor

Seventeen minutes

My heartbeat fastens

No words can get me out of this

No amount of hugs can salvage her now

Lucy is gone

Nine minutes



I can’t breathe

I am stuck to the floor

I can’t move

Still standing over Lucy

I bend down and touch her head


I hear the gate open

And granddad’s voice


He is singing one of his old songs from his band when he was younger

He sings of peace and prosperity in the country

An old independence song

I brace myself

He is right on time

Typical granddad

Couldn’t even give me two more minutes to compose myself

Not one second to come up with an acceptable tale of how beloved Lucy died

Another tear drops

He opens the door

“Pa’…it’s…it’s… I’m sorry”

He looks at me, confused

Then I see grief fill his face as he stares at my hands touching Lucy’s head

He stares at his true love


“Pa’… I didn’t mean to… it wasn’t my fault…”

He closes the door behind him

And walks up to me

I see him lift his walking cane

And I fear he wants to strike me with it

But he hangs it on the staircase railing

And puts his hands around me

I fear he wants to squeeze the life out of me

Kill me like I did his happiness

Like I did Lucy

His body starts to shake

He sobs on my shoulder

“Pa’… I’m so sorry”

He looks up at me

His eyes are bright

He has been…


“Sweetpea” he says

“It’s just a smoking pipe. I have hundreds of those”

I look at him


“But it’s Lucy…you love her!”

“No Sweetpea. I love you. Not a silly old pipe that you broke”

He kisses me on the forehead

“Want some hot chocolate?’ he asks

“Yes please”

And I laugh at my own madness

It was just a stupid old smoking pipe

I dust the ashes from my hands

-Awuor M