The Bubble

I feel like I’m trapped in a bubble. Time is meaningless.
Nobody understands the way I feel. My partner doesn’t, neither do my friends and family.

It’s me alone.

In this bubble, people laughing and joking around me, getting on with life.
Me, I’m just here. Over-thinking. Screaming at the top of my lungs and nobody seems to hear me.

A cry for help.

Alcohol doesn’t help. It just numbs the feeling of hopelessness and makes me forget.

And so I drink.

Family around telling me I’m not myself. But what do they know. What will they ever know.
They never took time to understand me. Everyone has a close relative, they all have some kind of click or bestie.

Me? I stand alone.

Trapped in this bubble of swirling thoughts and problems.
Not knowing when it’s going to end or how it will end.


I want to cry. All I have left is my education and even then that got screwed over time and time again.
So many thoughts, feelings and fantasies. So many dreams. Some shattered, some remain.

I have no idea how much longer I can stay feeling trapped like this. Feeling trapped in a bubble.

So much stress.

So much stress that I can’t palm off on someone else. So much I have to deal with. Struggling so much to stay sane that I’m almost insane. Not knowing what to do.

Thinking of solutions.

Run away. Cut off everyone. Start again. But it’s not that simple.
Too much has gone on. I need to stay motivated, upbeat and happy.
Being happy is so much harder now.

All I have is myself. Just me. And now I see. I should be my top priority. I should put myself and my life first.

A smile in the mirror. A stressed, uncomfortable sad smile. But it’s something.

That smile is like a light bulb flashing over my head. I’m smiling. I’m worth it.

Somewhere along the line, I realised I’m strong enough to get through these troubled times.

Somehow, without me realising it, the bubble burst.

Makala VP Thomas.

Don’t Hide.

Don’t Hide.

When your world comes crashing down, all you want to do is hide. Sometimes hiding is a better option.

But it’s not the only option.

Tears and comfort food won’t solve your problems. You need to get out there, be strong. Make something of yourself. Do the unexpected.

Because everyone will expect you to hide while they offer words of sympathy.

They don’t understand.

They won’t understand.

You don’t have to make them.

Just keep strong. Have faith and believe life will get better. There are people in this world who are much worse off than you.

And remember.

Hiding may seem like the better option, but it’s not the only option.

So don’t hide.

Believe in yourself.

It will get better.

Makala Thomas.

The Red Room

The Red Room

You fall asleep in your bedroom,
When you wake up, it is red.
Red bed, red wall, red accessories;
You wonder if you’re dead.
You call for help but no one answers:
That means you’re alone.
You know you’ve sinned, but you’re confused:
Hell shouldn’t look like home.

You look around your Red Room,
And you wonder what to do.
You wonder if this bedroom
Had turned red because of you.
You cant help thinking, as you’re relaxed,
Your Red Room should be blue.

You call my phone and tell me all,
Asking me to pray.
You dont get why your room is red;
It wasn’t yesterday.
I laugh and say “I’ll come today,
Before you start to panic.
You might decide to lose the plot,
And I dont want you manic.

There’s no point your room being blue:
It’s ease and serenity-
Beautiful, amazing,
Like the peace you found in me.
You’re room’s not red because you’re dead-
It’s just my work of art.
It’s red because I love you,
And you’re always in my heart.

Makala-Veronica Thomas


Sometimes I Wonder…

Sometimes I Wonder

I sit and think to myself, in a very calm mood, and reflect on my life and everything that has happened.

Sometimes I wonder.

Where would I be without the love of my godmother, who raised me and kept me in her home for almost seventeen years?
Without the discipline, the rules, being grounded?
The arguments, the being sent to my room, the curfew?

I have to shake my head and think. As a teenager, I hated it. But now, as an adult, I understand. It wasn’t because she was trying to control me. It was because she cared deeply.
I didn’t get it at the time. I do now.
I should visit sometime.

Sometimes I wonder.

If heart hadn’t been broken, my mind shattered, my life in a thousand pieces, would I be the strong woman I am today?
They say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I had NO IDEA what that meant, but I know now. The stress, the pain, the heartache and nostalgia.
A weak person wouldn’t cope and would either have a breakdown or take their life.
A strong person gets through it day by day.

Me. I got through it. I’m stronger now. And if I could go back in time I wouldn’t take that pain away. It made me who I am.

Sometimes I REALLY wonder.

What would my life be like without all the obstacles? The lessons? If I was upper class?
I’d be a spoilt brat most likely. Not the tough woman I am whose toughness came from all those obstacles I had to deal with throughout life, even as a child.

I’m almost twenty three. Some would say that’s still young, that I have a whole life ahead of me.
True. I do.

And I wonder.

Am I ready for more obstacles and hardship? The good, the bad, and the ugly?

I can’t help but smile as I think and write this. Because I know I sure am ready.

Bring it on.

Makala Thomas.