I am

For the longest times, I’ve been struggling to come to grips with who I am. You know, understanding yourself enough to commit that person to paper and tell others exactly who you are. But I’ve learnt that that person, me, is constantly changing, a walking contradiction, and that’s ok. I’m still being learning how to be;

I am the sum of my parts,
the hypocrisy when my opinions change
the love when I empathize with strangers
the quirks that trick me up.
the insecurities and confidence that swing like moods.
I am the one who couldn’t care less,
yet the one that screams for approval
I am the sum of the people I love, of the past I may regret, of the hopes I hold dear.
I am all of this.
I am mess but I am me.

-Temweka Chirwa


New Year’s Resolutions

The sweetest lie,

“I will change at the stroke of midnight”

But we all know

Resolutions I couldn’t keep in July

Are resolutions I won’t keep in January

Yet, I still believe I can Cinderella my way into the New Year

Just need to find fairy godmother

My name is magic

I believe in the magic of names, and mine means “The one we love”

My name suggests that an encounter with me might change your life,

One interaction with yours truly will render you unmistakably in love.


A name passed down through the generations of my family,

How do I live up to playfully wisdom of my great-aunt?

Or the ‘take on the world’ charm of my aunt?

The living legends of my name’s past.




But I didn’t want to be loved by everyone,

Not by people who didn’t really know who I was.

They didn’t know that I was flawed and prone to stumble,

Or that on some days I wasn’t very lovable, not even a little bit, not even at all.


So I made my universe smaller,

One filled with people who would love me

Even if my name wasn’t magic





Love, a beautiful infinity

Once upon a time, I had believed that if you could list all the things you loved about someone, you didn’t really love them, least not completely. Because in my quite feeble understanding, Love shouldn’t or rather couldn’t be quantified.

Love is this abstract concept, an immeasurable force, much like infinity. We created a scale simply to ease our vast ignorance to its majesty.

So if you ever succeeded in counting my favourable qualities, and everything you adored about me could fit neatly on a piece of paper. Then I would be convinced you didn’t love me enough. For if this love was true, and you dared to quantify it, you should be counting for all eternity.



But maybe this was just an excuse. A way for me not to truthfully appreciate the depths of my love for you. If I simply assumed my love was endless, I didn’t have to prove it. I just accepted it as true and expected you to do the same. Now I realise that that was not enough.

I love you, I honestly do. I feel it everywhere within me, through the shivers that run from the warmth of my heart down to the tips of my toes and upwards, creating a love-drunk haze in my head.

Once I tried to put in words all that you meant to me, I realised I just how much I need you, how much I want you. How unique this feeling in this moment with you is.

So even with the few things about you, I was able to commit to paper, I knew our love was immeasurable and I was content with the evidence of it.