In my relaxed state I had a conversation with myself, exasperated by the battle between the spirit and soul. Hesitant to unpack the subject, I decide to go for it and then it hit me… The gist of the matter is, resemblance.

The issue that I have is that you resemble him, tall dark and handsome with a friendly smile. Portraying the image of a dove to the masses, yet subtle like a snake, leaving behind venom which becomes an identifier of those who survive its silent hidden attacks.

You resemble him who hides behind a reputation which has landed him followers, the very ones who give him the fleeting gratification of being an exemplary father figure and husband. The Holy Book is his mask, not his illuminator. He lives with the reality of pain endured in his childhood, now, in his adulthood.

You resemble him whose sight destabilises her security, if he takes the right, she will take the left. Alternatively, she will gather enough courage to approach him with either a well-structured smile or an intimidating countenance. Opting to give away her digits just to reach home, where she will add his number to the reject list.

You resemble him also, the kind, smart and helpful guy who owes his childhood to the hood. Mistook for a fool by some, bearing insults wrapped in humour, he strives to be the best version of himself.

You resemble Him, who speaks with authority. Whose words bring comfort, whose patience, gentleness and intercession turns hearts to the Light. His wisdom, humility and splendour constantly draws the meek.

Eventually I came to the realisation that you resemble me. Many stories to tell, with the ability to speak yet choosing to be quiet; eagerly awaiting the appointed time. Having gathered the courage to face myself, I remain seated in the room with the glass door but this time I left it open…

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