It creeps in on me like the paws of my deranged uncle
peeping beneath my purple coloured skirt
making way for his rage
leaving lethal patches on my fragile heart
reminding me that my mother was bought for a token
on a market day
it reminds me of how Rinji was shot at close range
by trigger-happy uniform boys
that night, Abuja slept in whispers
it reminds me of how papa died
on his death bed he said; Ada, the world is a horror thriller
read only under the watch of the sun
for the moon steals your voice with its stigma
if I die in this poem
will you bury me in the words of my ex?
will you teach me the tricks of loneliness?
or will I become another genital tale on the pages of the newspapers?
Read – Bad Old Fiend (A Song of Woe) – A poem by Chunke Anasthasia Mbarmi, Cameroon
