midnight

 

my phone vibrates and I wear the buzzing noise on my skin
while it lasts.
it is you with another message about how
I fell from grace
and can no longer recite the recipe for healing.
the cold air from this rotating fan fails to keep
my heart from burning like a forest blessed with fire and wind.

twelve oh nine and you are
fresh in my thoughts. you just widened the hole
in my heart with another text.
soon all my hurt portions will copy themselves and
infect the remaining portions. until I
am on fire. until my name turns its back on me when I call myself,
texting will not be recognised as a shortcut to pain.

 

 

 

Michael Akuchie is a poet who prefers who hails from Eastern Nigeria. His works have been featured on online literary magazines, blogs and journals. He is currently a sophomore at the University of Benin, Nigeria.

DON’T MISS OUT!
Subscribe To Newsletter
Be the first to get latest updates and exclusive content straight to your email inbox.
Stay Updated
Give it a try, you can unsubscribe anytime.

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here