So I’m in a critical period of the year right now, and this is probably the last post you’ll be seeing from me until July thereabouts. You know the usual hustle. Lol. So here’s another narrative poem I took from the archives. 

And by the way, some sensational stuff is in the pipeline!! 

He says he loves me, that’s what she said,

As she told her friends about the guy whom six months ago she had met,

In a bank one Thursday morning, deposit of instant interest,

Six feet tall with dimples in his cheeks, his name was Fred,

And she giggled as she told them of the six pack hidden under his shirt, given away by his big chest,

Yes. Twenty year old Princess was in love,

Never exactly a very religious person, but thought he was her premium package from above,

A believer in romance as TV displayed it, the biggest fan of all those telenovelas and stuff,

Now hand her her own Mexican soap coz she just slipped and fell in love with her very own customized hunk.

 

He says he loves me, that’s what she said,

In excitement as she told her girls that Fred was no longer on rent,

That he had purchased a new apartment and was feeling on top of the clouds like a private jet,

And better yet, he wanted her to move in with him, probably so they could do grown folk stuff, like share that king-sized bed.

Her friends were like ‘wait, hold up, you need to take your time, 9 months in, sista. This is way too early.’

She bristled up and retorted, ‘What do you want me to do, wait until I’m thirty?’

Fact was, she was moving in with him, she wasn’t asking for their opinion,

She had made up her mind and made a decision that didn’t make much sense, like cataclysmic brilliance.

 

He says he loves me, that’s what she said,

As her sistas huddled around her in concern upon seeing the bruises on her forehead,

Let’s say the ‘honeymoon phase’ was over.

Three months in, and Freddy and P were already having arguments,

This fight in particular got so ugly, he shed his skin of harmlessness,

And landed that Pacman combo on her after she dissed him for his lack of continence.

One of them was like, ‘P, don’t be silly. You need to get out of this thing.

He claims that he’s sorry and that he loves you, but trust me, baby girl, he’s gonna do it again.’

She didn’t listen.

I mean, why should she let a punch knock out this wonderful dream come true?

‘Besides,’ she thought afterwards, ‘since we truly love each other, it isn’t a problem if I let him thrust through.’

So she considered their advice to be like taking etiquette lessons from a person that you know is uncouth, she discarded it.

 

He says he loves me, that’s what she said,

As her ladies looked at her in disbelief, the oblivious victim caught in the abuse web.

What had happened this time? She forgot his favourite spices for his groundnut soup,

Fuse blown like a melted metal strip, he lashed out, and the consequence? A swollen eye and a now slightly chipped tooth.

Her friends blasted her: this was foolishness, not a true love that is radical,

It is time you get rid of him and get serious with the One who’s greater like the region of Ghana’s capital,

But she wouldn’t listen, she insisted it wasn’t intentional,

‘He’d never hurt me on purpose’, she said, ‘this occasion was the work of the devil tho.’ Smh.

 

He says he loves me, that’s what she said,

But at this stage, her girls really couldn’t fathom the spoonfuls of foolishness she had been fed,

He was at it again: mass production of bruises on her skin, blood passing through the wrong passage and making her pass out,

At that point, She’d decided she had enough of him, so she took her bags and packed out,

Dropped the grenade like suicide bombers on him; it was over, and she wouldn’t back out,

To her apartment he went, back, down, on his knees,

Tears in his eyes, crying out to her with grievous pleas,

‘Baby, I’m sorry! I promise I won’t hit you again! I’ve changed! Please forgive me, please!’

And she took him back.

Her sisters were outraged, at a total loss for words, sentences and phrases,

Okay, except one. ‘Princess, what the hell is wrong with you, are you dumb crazy?

Can’t you see that one day, he might beat you to death like sin’s wages?’

Love conquers all, though, doesn’t it?

This was just a pellet thrown at her castle, couldn’t let it go Jericho tumbling,

Besides, he said he was sorry, she saw the look in his eyes, she knew he had changed,

Back to Mr. Romantic, Knight in shining armour, reason riding on a horse, things would never be the same.

 

He says he loves me, that’s what she said,

Words that reverberated around the brains of her grief-stricken friends,

Tears tumbling down like avalanches, they wailed as they watched her coffin descend,

It was too late.

They had done all they could, but she just wouldn’t budge,

And now Fred had bonded with alcohol, their consummations becoming a nightly affair,

P hated it and tried to complain, but zips did sprints across her lips every time her protests were met with a glare,

Until she snapped one night and told him off, and in a drunken fury he charged,

Struck the living daylight out of her, a coma came and put her out of her misery,

Doctors did all they could, working round the clock, but she succumbed to her injuries.

And though Fred was in currently in custody, the nation’s most hated villain,

It made no difference as they wept bitterly.

It was too late. Princess was gone.

Alas!

He says he loves me, that’s all that she ever said,

Unaware of the fact that there is a way that seems right unto man, but the end thereof is death.