I’m trying to ask the truth to come alive again
It’s face having been tucked away for so long
Hidden beneath so many flaws, wounded hearts,
Scorned, betrayed, bleeding and barely holding on.
It warms to my touch and in my ears whispers
That for who I am, and the passions I now confess
Although I may be graceless, this soul is free
Is there something other you would wish me to be?
In the spirit of the roses stolen from the day to gift to the wife
The night holds secrets we’ve buried under it’s skies
***
I want you to never forget this
It’s just there
***
I feel I might have burnt through it all
The feel of the most beautiful angel in it’s fall
The trail I blazed through the heavens you made a wish upon schemes
Why do you reject this face that must bare hell for your dreams
***
I plucked this bug from my shirt
Squished it between my fingers
Then flung it out into the dirt
The sharp sting of my cruelty lingers
It may be out of sight
But may I impress this on your mind
***
I ran as fast as I could from this dream
That my words poured life into
My pages were an escape from life
The rivers of blood I drowned in
The love I longed for, the hate I grew in
My flower struggles to bear beautiful fruit
But it did, if only to soothe your wounded heart
The bond is broken, the words are a lie
No longer speak of love she says
Do you think yourself sly
***
If you could read
In my words all is bare
I’ve dusted the muck
So my confessions run clear
Yet you think me sly
***
13/09/2024
Ki kọ kin kọ (what we can and can’t describe)
Ti a ronu a a le sọ (that we perceive but can’t speak)
Ada f’owo kam igi (the cutlass hits the tree)
Igin mi, igi ṣin (the wood breathes, the tree splits)
Little Borrowers 