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[misshighwrites]

ovulation doesn’t ask.

it just snitches.

it snitches out the hoe, the one who wanted to flirt but said no, the one who slid into DMs when no one was watching.

it snitches out the cry baby, the one clutching tissues at 3am because a song sounded sad, or a text didn’t come back fast enough.

it snitches out miss perfect, the one who smiles too hard at work, who eats salad when everyone else is having pizza, who pretends she’s fine.

and then… the heat. the hot flashes that make you sweat like you’re standing too close to the sun.

the skin, clear and glassy, glowing like a filter you didn’t earn… or that one rogue pimple, red and angry, screaming at you in the mirror.

ovulation is a tattletale.

it tells your body’s secrets before you’re ready.

it doesn’t care about dignity or Instagram filters or bedtime routines.

it just shows up, messy and loud and unapologetic, and says:

“this is you. all of you. take it or leave it."

[misshighwrites]

Tonight, the world spins and whispers, and I’m just trying to hold onto words… maybe yours, maybe mine. Everything feels messy, warm, alive. 🥀✨

[misshighwrites]

Just sitting here with my cup of coffee ☕

and casually remembering how someone in my orbit turned a simple relationship into a five-year series with sequels, side quests, and a cast I definitely didn’t audition for.

Anyway..... good vibes only.

[misshighwrites]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 50 likes!

[misshighwrites]

Girls don’t care too early.

They care honestly.

They feel before they’re told it’s safe to feel, love before there’s proof it will last.

And guys don’t care too late, they care when the silence finally gets loud, when absence teaches what presence couldn’t.

It’s never about who feels first, but who was brave enough to feel at the same time.

And sometimes, the tragedy of love is simply bad timing wearing the face of indifference.

🖤✨

[misshighwrites]

You knock on his door, heart racing. The second he opens, you don’t even wait you throw yourself into his arms. He lifts you slightly off the ground, holding you tight like he’s been starved for you (because he has 😩).

Your face presses into his chest, his scent hitting you instantly familiar, warm, addictive. He leans down, kisses the top of your head, then tilts your chin up. That first kiss? It’s not soft. It’s deep, needy, months of bottled-up passion crashing out at once 👄🔥.

His hands slide down, finding your waistline exactly where you’ve been craving them. He grips tighter, pulling you in like he wants no space left between you. Your body melts, but the tension makes you shiver you can literally feel the hunger in his touch.

Without even realizing, the door clicks shut behind you. He’s walking you backward, lips never leaving yours, hands moving between your waist and thighs. That playlist starts in the background, but you barely notice because your heartbeat is louder than the speakers.

By the time your back hits the bed, it’s chaos giggles between kisses, hands roaming everywhere, his touch mapping every inch of the body he’s missed for too long. The clothes? Yeah… they don’t last long 🥵.

And when the first track fades out, the only rhythm in the room is you two making up for lost time, unapologetically loud enough to risk waking the neighbours 🤭.

~MissHighWrites ~

[misshighwrites]

Just sitting here with my cup of coffee ☕

and casually remembering how someone in my orbit turned a simple relationship into a five-year series with sequels, side quests, and a cast I definitely didn’t audition for.

Anyway..... good vibes only.

[misshighwrites]

Just sitting here with my cup of coffee ☕

and casually remembering how someone in my orbit turned a simple relationship into a five-year series with sequels, side quests, and a cast I definitely didn’t audition for.

Anyway..... good vibes only.

[misshighwrites]

You knock on his door, heart racing. The second he opens, you don’t even wait you throw yourself into his arms. He lifts you slightly off the ground, holding you tight like he’s been starved for you (because he has 😩).

Your face presses into his chest, his scent hitting you instantly familiar, warm, addictive. He leans down, kisses the top of your head, then tilts your chin up. That first kiss? It’s not soft. It’s deep, needy, months of bottled-up passion crashing out at once 👄🔥.

His hands slide down, finding your waistline exactly where you’ve been craving them. He grips tighter, pulling you in like he wants no space left between you. Your body melts, but the tension makes you shiver you can literally feel the hunger in his touch.

Without even realizing, the door clicks shut behind you. He’s walking you backward, lips never leaving yours, hands moving between your waist and thighs. That playlist starts in the background, but you barely notice because your heartbeat is louder than the speakers.

By the time your back hits the bed, it’s chaos giggles between kisses, hands roaming everywhere, his touch mapping every inch of the body he’s missed for too long. The clothes? Yeah… they don’t last long 🥵.

And when the first track fades out, the only rhythm in the room is you two making up for lost time, unapologetically loud enough to risk waking the neighbours 🤭.

~MissHighWrites ~

[misshighwrites]

You knock on his door, heart racing. The second he opens, you don’t even wait you throw yourself into his arms. He lifts you slightly off the ground, holding you tight like he’s been starved for you (because he has 😩).

Your face presses into his chest, his scent hitting you instantly familiar, warm, addictive. He leans down, kisses the top of your head, then tilts your chin up. That first kiss? It’s not soft. It’s deep, needy, months of bottled-up passion crashing out at once 👄🔥.

His hands slide down, finding your waistline exactly where you’ve been craving them. He grips tighter, pulling you in like he wants no space left between you. Your body melts, but the tension makes you shiver you can literally feel the hunger in his touch.

Without even realizing, the door clicks shut behind you. He’s walking you backward, lips never leaving yours, hands moving between your waist and thighs. That playlist starts in the background, but you barely notice because your heartbeat is louder than the speakers.

By the time your back hits the bed, it’s chaos giggles between kisses, hands roaming everywhere, his touch mapping every inch of the body he’s missed for too long. The clothes? Yeah… they don’t last long 🥵.

And when the first track fades out, the only rhythm in the room is you two making up for lost time, unapologetically loud enough to risk waking the neighbours 🤭.

~MissHighWrites ~

[misshighwrites]

You knock on his door, heart racing. The second he opens, you don’t even wait you throw yourself into his arms. He lifts you slightly off the ground, holding you tight like he’s been starved for you (because he has 😩).

Your face presses into his chest, his scent hitting you instantly familiar, warm, addictive. He leans down, kisses the top of your head, then tilts your chin up. That first kiss? It’s not soft. It’s deep, needy, months of bottled-up passion crashing out at once 👄🔥.

His hands slide down, finding your waistline exactly where you’ve been craving them. He grips tighter, pulling you in like he wants no space left between you. Your body melts, but the tension makes you shiver you can literally feel the hunger in his touch.

Without even realizing, the door clicks shut behind you. He’s walking you backward, lips never leaving yours, hands moving between your waist and thighs. That playlist starts in the background, but you barely notice because your heartbeat is louder than the speakers.

By the time your back hits the bed, it’s chaos giggles between kisses, hands roaming everywhere, his touch mapping every inch of the body he’s missed for too long. The clothes? Yeah… they don’t last long 🥵.

And when the first track fades out, the only rhythm in the room is you two making up for lost time, unapologetically loud enough to risk waking the neighbours 🤭.

~MissHighWrites ~

[misshighwrites]

I am crowned by my own strength. Like the cat, I walk my path with quiet confidence, and like the flower, I rise and bloom through every season of life.

[misshighwrites]

🚩Today on my way to town in public transport…

I was listening to the radio segment “Patanisho” where broken couples try to reunite or officially break up on air. Basically, people looking for closure or second chances.

Today’s episode was about Eunice and her man (can’t remember his name 😅). They’ve been married for a year. The twist? The guy has multiple women, and Eunice recently caught him posting another woman on his Facebook. When she confronted him, instead of owning up, he packed his bags and left for Kisumu to work as a mason and hasn't come back for a month now.

He blocked her, ignored her calls, and vanished.

Still, Eunice called Patanisho to try and win him back. And get this she even apologised for questioning him about cheating. 😭

The man told her to give him space… eight months of “thinking.”

And when Patanisho pushed him, he casually said:

“If she wants to move on, she can. I don’t mind.” 😭😂😭

I sat there in that matatu just shook. Because what level of clownery is this?!

Then I remembered this billboard:

THE EGG DON’T SWIM TO THE SPERM, SIS. NEVER CHASE A MAN.

And honestly? That message is gospel. 🥚🚫🏃‍♀️

---

Too many women like Eunice keep pouring love into broken cups, apologising for things they shouldn't, begging for scraps, and calling it love.

Ladies — please:

✨ Stop shrinking for men who don't value you.

✨ Stop waiting for someone who already let you go.

✨ You are the prize — not a placeholder.

Let him “think” alone. You? Heal, glow up, and protect your peace.

#NeverBeEunice

#SoftLifeOnly

#TheEggDon’tSwim

#KnowYourWorthSis 💅🏽💖

[misshighwrites]

My favourite childhood memory is having energy.

Running through school corridors like joy had no end,

then sprinting home to more adventures with my sister💖

my best friend then, still my best friend now.

We played pretend like it was our purpose:

tea parties with invisible guests,

dollhouses built from dreams,

stethoscopes made of string and imagination.

We sang like the world was listening.

Now we still do.

Same hearts, just grown voices.

The games changed, but the music never stopped.

[misshighwrites]

Le Blues du Lundi

Mondays weigh heavy, but there's quiet magic in the start.

📖 by ~MissHighWrites

#poetry #mondaymood #writersofcolor #hopefulbeginnings

[misshighwrites]

It started with a click.

Just curiosity.

Then came questions, connections, conversations...

Now here we are building revolutions with our fingertips,

healing, learning, creating, becoming.

🌍 From Nairobi to New York this is progress.

From Clicks to Progress by MissHighWrites

#poetry #digitalage #spokenword #activism #poetrycommunity #misshighwrites #africanpoet #writingthroughit

[misshighwrites]

Golden Struggle

This maize didn’t just roast it survived.

Picked from cracked soil,

where rain was a rumor,

and sun kissed too hard.

Now it lies on a splintered table,

half-eaten, half-honored,

like the meals we ration

between dreams and disappointments.

Inflation doesn’t knock it barges in.

Even boiled hope costs more these days.

But we still eat in silence,

bless crumbs with gratitude,

and chew through struggle like it’s sweet.

Because even in scarcity,

there’s still something golden left to hold.

~MissHighWrites

#inflation blues #kenyan struggle #poetry of survival #tumblr writers #healing through hardship #real life metaphors #maize truth #spoken word energy