Gleektales

The greatest and deadliest of all times A love so strong, would push you to sin You can't resist as long as it insists Could be pure and also dangerous Could be safe and also your darkness It consumes like fire For the love of a mother Is the most dangerous ever © Maracci

Where are the real ones! Two,  three,let's start again. Always the same process again and again. Always feels like a rerun. Connect, realize they are fake, disconnect Only to connect again, realize they are fake again, disconnect again. I wonder when this cycle of attaching and detaching will end. Will it ever? I guess the answer is never. Isn't there just one person Who I will feel is not a betrayer, Who I will feel is realYet loving the realism. I mean, will I ever find In anyone, honesty, When it comes to the words, "I care for you." Won't the next friend Or the Next lover Be a lie again. Will I and the right one Ever cross paths? The odds scream, "nay!" Will I ever meet people of my own kind. The odds still scream the same thing. Good guy, go on dream about this thing, As if you're going to get any of it When you, with absoluteness, know you won't. I just fight the fight, Knowing someone's won it. Still, I won't lose hope, I'll wa...

Light as a feather. She should have run She should have left sooner As she listened to the sweet voice of Madonna Her heart still ached for his touch For his caress And for the man she thought he was. They told her that he would be her ruin He would be an addiction that she couldn't escape After all, the road to hell is paved with good intentions That much she knew But she had fallen into darkness And at the instant she knew She ceased to know. She wept in silence Not because of her lack of common sense Not because of her pain But because she was trapped In the confines of her heart That, which was supposed to be her sanctuary Became her dungeon and her obituary. As she took the blade to her ebony wrists She paused for a moment Contemplating; thinking about her actions Watching all the happy memories flash before her eyes. Neck deep in the waters of her bathtub She released a heart-wrenching wail A guttural sob Which pierced through the stale air. Finally, she slit Gazed on as the ...

ODE TO LIFE Life, it still confuses me Why are we alive? Life was given to me Should that make me lucky We should be thankful to the gift of life But sometimes I feel life should be thankful to us Life lives off our fears and sadness Our Joys and happiness Our sorrows and Thanksgiving We feel that we feed from life But maybe life feeds from us Maybe we make life live Maybe we give life to life Just maybe, we are the reason life exists © Maracci

There're some people in our lives We can't help but chase after When they are there, when they are not; All our mind do is thirst after them. Even when they are not there and when they offend us, Our lonely mind still wants them to be near, close— And all our body wants is to be enclosed and safe in that warm cuddle. Sometimes like a disturbed snail we withdraw our heads, Trying to control our feelings, our emotions But we just can't... We long and thirst, when we are weak or strong. We tell ourselves, I'm not in love, we are just friends I'm not even noticed at all. Yet all we do is chase and pursue, Running and jogging after them. We know it's not right, (nor wrong) But whichever way we way it that way. We just feel the urge, feeling in our feelings that we are doing the right thing. And so we get more close: passing in, slowly, Till we get hooked and addicted. The more they hate us, the more we crave more. We don't understand that feeling... And we neve...

💋Chapter Ten💋 (Grand Finale😵)   It was a bad déjà vu moment. She could’ve been replaying the same scene in his Cape Town apartment five years ago; hearing the same words, like a terrifying echo of the past. Mandi choked back a sob as she felt that sharp, invisible knife drive itself deeper into her heart. It thrust the pain into her throat. It clenched her stomach so tightly she feared she might throw up. He talked about torture, but he didn’t know what torture was.This was torture. ‘Simply because I wore a wedding dress at a fashion show, you think I’m trying to force you to get married?’ Even to her own ears, the words sounded hollow and ridiculous. ‘I can’t change who I am, Mandisa.’ Themba spoke slowly. ‘I would only disappoint you if you thought otherwise.’ Mandi dropped her head, then raised it slowly. She looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time. It was as if she was seeing his every demon. And it scared her. ‘You’re right. I would be disappointed,’ she said....

💋Chapter Nine💋 Chaos. Controlled chaos. That was the only description that fit the scene backstage at the dance studio the night of the fashion show. Models ran around in their underwear, clutching Styrofoam cups of coffee. Andrew Morena trailed after them in full Miss Morena mode, complete with a tiara he’d acquired for the occasion. With a clipboard, pen and a spritz bottle of his homemade concoction of witch-hazel and mineral water, he was playing the role to the hilt. ‘Come on girls!’ he trilled. ‘We have to get you dressed and looking fabulous.’ Spritz! Spritz! His flustered face glowed with moisture. ‘I need a drink, an aspirin,’ he complained to Mandi. ‘I’m having a nervous breakdown here!’ She smiled. ‘As long as I’m invited.’ ‘So not funny.’ She had to admit the studio was a cacophony of noise. It didn’t help that the Isiduko musicians were rehearsing a medley of tunes nearby; Cole was running through a final sound check for the night’s event. Andrew had taken one look a...

💋Chapter Eight💋 ‘Shall we have coffee on the balcony?’ ‘That sounds nice.’ She tried to quell the nervous flutter in her stomach with a smile. ‘It’s more private and there’s a lot more sun.’ Mandi followed Nosiswe Dlane through the elegant Hyde Park apartment towards the French doors opening up to an enclosed balcony. She’d worn a smart pair of black fitted trousers and a crisp white blouse for the meeting. Nosiswe was far more relaxed in a pair of expensive blue jeans and a caramel- coloured turtleneck sweater. The clothes made her look younger. Mandi looked around the huge balcony. The creamy white of the wicker patio furniture was broken with bright multi-patterned cushions. It was an airy, inviting and casual sitting area. ‘Please take a seat. I’d forgotten how lovely the sunny late winter afternoons can be in Johannesburg,’ Nosiswe said, as a housekeeper in a starched duchess uniform poured coffee from a silver pot. Mandi had a slight trace of a hangover – all that alcohol a...

💋Chapter Seven💋 ‘Nombi! ’ Shocked, Mandi stared at her sister. ‘You’re only supposed to arrive tomorrow!’ This night was just full of surprises, Mandi thought glumly. She hadn’t expected to find her younger sister in her house tonight. Nombi was looking gorgeous, as always. Even in a pair of flared yoga pants and a fleecy hooded top, she managed to look like a top model. ‘I arrived a day early.’ Nombi eyes were not on her, she noticed, but fixed on Themba. ‘I found your spare key under the pot plant. Not a safe place to leave it.’ She pouted. ‘You must be more careful, Mandisa!’ Mandi flushed, ignoring her sister’s chiding remark. ‘Nombi, you remember Themba.’ Nombi’s greeting was cool as ice. ‘Of course.’ ‘Nombi.’ Themba nodded. ‘You’re looking well.’ Her sister arched her brows. ‘I get paid to look well.’ Themba showed his perfect white teeth. ‘Of course, I forgot; you’re a model now.’ Nombi turned to Mandi. ‘I hope I’m not interrupting anything?’ ‘No,’ Mandi lied. ‘We’ve just ...

💋Chapter Six💋 The next day, Themba contacted her. He didn’t call, as promised, but sent her an email. It was the first thing she saw when she fired up her laptop at the studio in the morning. The message contained contacts for a great tax consultant, a highly rated accountant, web developers and event organisers, covering all the points they’d touched on the night before. The fact that he’d sent an electronic correspondence stung, but she sent a cool, professional response, thanking him for his time and effort. She wasn’t going to let him get to her. She was simply going to put him out of her mind. In the next week, Mandi threw herself whole-heartedly into rectifying the errors and oversights Themba had picked up in his ruthlessly analytical audit. As the days progressed, things were starting to look up. She might have lost Themba for a second time, but she’d managed to salvage her boutique from the ashes of disaster. She found comfort in her strict business routine, in working o...