image source: pexels.com

TO THE STARS WITH NO NAME

These spectres-
Shadows of the night weaving darkness into dreams
Leak into the synapses of soul- a void,
and pain
Snapping at the tatters of my smile
like a dying child’s plaything

Darkness-
Darkness is not the fall of the day
in fading ribbons of gold
Not the sunset’s laughter
playing across the sky
Darkness is the overcast
of broken things
Waltzing through the mind-
in dull colours
Opposites- woven into grim things
broken dreams, shots, a razor blade
Plastic smiles, well worn
and faded scars from your bleeding game

It is the pause-
as the blade taunts the skin, another scar to fade
as the earth is washed in red, your red
It is your heart, worn
from countless dying seasons
Your love, bled
of the subtleties of feeling
It is your eyes
And through your eyes,
I see the void, calling
from the other side of this playground
Creeping, like a leech, to bleed again
You are hesitant.
Linger
Linger longer here



Mayor Prosper Ihechi is a writer, poet, amateur photographer, and a lover of good music, movies, and Art in all its forms. He writes to silence the voices in his head (because they are always talking), and to make known everything he cannot say aloud. Born in Rivers State, Nigeria, he currently resides in Enugu State, a fourth year student of Law in The University of Nigeria, Enugu Campus. He is also the head of Geek’s Cave Literary Agency, a firm dedicated to easing the writing process. He can be contacted via captsevarro@gmail.com.

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