Sit there.
Let me tell you a story.
A heart ripped into shreds, a blanket of nothingness and a bowl of black water.
Eat.
Eat and drink.
It is the last day of innocence.
The veil will be torn from your eyes, see the world as what it is.
Rage.
But hold still.
This sword hangs above your head.
Breathe, the ugliness festers.
Choice.
The obvious choice is not always true, the lesser evil may not have been hung on a tree.
Still, you rail.
Do you really have no choice?
Hurt.
Years of hurt, a bicycle's wheel.
Progress measured in centimeters, barely a sufficient diameter.
Feel the pain.
Hide.
Stuff and stuff, head tilted to the ground.
Eyes everywhere, never on the target.
Hide, my child.
Hear what your mother says:
"You will let your stomach rule you, and then you will vomit its contents but there will be no one to pour sand on your vomit nor will there be anyone to give you water to rinse your mouth."
The End.
This is my comeback, hehe.
I haven't written in days, and I saw that the judicial murder of the Ogoni 9 was remembered yesterday, the 11th of November. So, I decided on a political piece, our country has a huge decision to make in the coming months, and we must remember the past if our future is to make any sense.
Photo by Ann poan on Pexels
I chose this picture because it represents the state of my people in recent times: blank, a clean slate with no memories.
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