My two feet had learnt to crawl and walk before my mind was able to conceptualise what art or poetry is; I realise now that I was always creative. I did not need to define my creativity. I love the way I think, create, move, wonder and feel as I am able to when I am free. I am my own woman and I am my own human being. I could never be, defined creativity, or creativity…

Why can I not just exist?

There are always questions that follow whenever I make that statement: “because to exist has to serve purpose and there has to be a reason for everything”. Yet again, they fail to realise I am not asking for their opinion or permission; But they didn’t fail to realise that I was reaffirming my boundary of my own life and how I choose to live my life.

There is always anger from men, when a woman is happy, freely on her own; Especially amongst other women who are happily, freely, together, celebrating one another and the bodies of women. It somehow is always exploited until the woman is reminded again of why she is hated: “how dare you reject them”. To them it is kinder than saying “they do not approve of you having your own choices,...