Twin Flame Poetry ~ 

‘Representation matters. I didn’t see many black book characters growing up, so I love using black art for my works. I think it is very important to point to the community that this type of love does exist, authentic, and pure, and love in the black community does not have to reflect the kind of love that is seen on, ‘love and hip hop’.

– Cindy Anneh-bu.
And in the end, it dawned on me, that I was always going to love you, that you would always remain etched into my spirit, and ingrained into my heart, so I needn’t worry about loving you, for you are me, so many centuries ago, born of the same fruits, split into two wombs, the first wound of the great divine, seeing birth to one soul, later parted into two, fating a global spell of separation, though merely illusion.
Only to my sweet satisfaction to find you in my teens, still caught in between adolescence, and the many lessons, and the blessings it took to find me.. There is a love that rivals all types of earthly love, a life that ignites a fire in you to be better, to shed your skin of old, dualistic ways, a love that comes, a love that grows, a love that knows, a love that stays. I thought that I knew what it meant to be awakened.. All the while, I only had half my eyes.
Yet now, you grow so fearful as the winter sweeps us, and in turn, my love, I grow so worrisome, so undone, thrice before I endured the bitter hum of departed love.
But it is not I that you run from, why it is yourself in the long run, for the most high made us one.

I ask the people what they make of forbidden love, and they scorn as I mourn, and split blood from their teeth, they do not know about falling from forbidden trees, to be exiled from the garden of Eden, and have a love pause, wait for you for centuries..

And finally my love, I do not wish to cause you grief, so please.

The world would never understand, nor fathom a love so grand, even I have found no ground to stand.






Cinderella Anneh-bu© 2015

All works published on this site are under strict ownership of the owner, and any re-destribution is strictly prohibited without permission, and necessary credits.


A letter, from a father, to his daughter; much, much later. 

“I give you the world,
On a silver platter,
And I say that there is not a thing in this universe that I treasure more than you.
But already, that isn’t fair.
And I have placed so much glory, and storage on your head, and I expect you to live up to these false ideals.
I watch you closely as you play,
So delicate,
That every time that you step a little out of line, or I fear that you may be bruised, I swarm in, and I take you, and I keep
And in doing so, I teach you to be afraid of the world.
You watch the others, your brothers,
And you see how they play untamed,
Unscathed by the battles of the playground,
Free, to dance around and move as one with the breeze, grazing their knees, and rising to their feet with ease,
But when you try,
I ask you to come back, to stand by me.
And that is where you will always be.
If not by me, then in the grips of another man who will expect much the same of you, to keep away from the dangers of the world, to be frightened, to be his.

I tell you that you are precious,
And there is this thing between your legs that you must guard with all of your life,
And keep yours till somebody make you a wife,
And only then will you know glory,
I tell you only then, will your story be worthy.
With this same sacredness, I give you shame.
I pass you blame.
I tell you to cover your arms, more discretely, straighten out your skirt more nearly, and close your legs,
For men are watching,
I teach you to be prey.

And at the end of the day,

I return, and turn around,
And call you my precious little girl.

A letter, from a father, to his daughter.”

Cindy Anneh-bu


© 2015
All works published on this site are under strict ownership of the owner, and any re-destribution is strictly prohibited without permission, and necessary credits.