It has been a while since I turned to this or another project. I have been having issues that needed fixing. The issues are still there but I can breathe alone. This poem below is a contribution by Amaka who has previously contributed to this blog in the past as part of the support program set up as one of the areas this blog was made to cover. I hope you find the poem enjoyable.
TO YESTERDAY
My heart lies torn over there,
A broken thing,
Leaving bleeding tracks on the floor
Of this body I once called home.
She dances
With the howling winds of hate,
This broken heart of mine.
What should I say to her;
Peace, be still… or rage on?
Burn, burn…oh yes burn?
She did all of this.
Yes, the killer!
The wielder of tiny knives of lies!
What naked naivety!
What foolish cruelty! I mourn…
Tell me, how do broken people
Look back into the dimness of yesterday?
How can she, bleeding on that floor,
Rewrite the thoughts that birthed
This rebellion?
Who will show her the way to the past?
That traitorous organ,
She cried:
Who shall help undo her past
So she can make it right?
The lost embrace of a lover
Mocks her forlorn body,
For there is none here
To embrace this broken body.
There is nothing left
In the space she used to reside,
Just the fluttering
Of hot butterflies within;
Another reminder
Of the coldness of this bed.
I know not
How to calm this swirling storm.
I am not one with this cold wind.
I am no Elsa; this cold bothers me;
It bruises my broken skin,
it tears the emptiness within.
One thing can set this right,
Just one;
Does he know how i long for it?
