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i am neck-deep in a quagmire, my mind is a
gallery holding the dire portraits of my life
on my flesh, pain has made scars and
incisions that even time holds to ransom
here, my shadow keeps opening doors i
have shut, my mind keeps playing a saudade
call my body a home ransacked by storm, abode
of a stranger birthed on the christening of death
i have tried to live under broken roofs, build
my shelter in the heart of a homeless man
i have tried to fold into myself, make
home out of the cleft of my mouth
i took a trip from pain but was trailed by
pain and its companion, grief
is pain not the after-taste of pleasure
when life itself is fighting to strike a balance
a little dose of pain and a pint of happiness, life
is a proper fraction, but i try to tweak the figures
today, i am the woman building a home
with scars and stories, call me the seer
tomorrow, i will build another
with songs and the wings of butterflies
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Damilola Omotoyinbo believes in the power of pen and the positive difference it can make in our world. She has work/interview published at Afritondo, Kalahari Review, Konya Shamsrumi, Praxis, Hack writers, The Nigerian Tribune Newspaper and elsewhere. Damilola is a fellow of the Ebedi International Writers’ Residency and currently a mentee at the SprinNG Writing Fellowship. She is Damilola Omotoyinbo on Facebook & Instagram, and blogs at damilolaomotoyinbo.wordpress.com
Discussion3 Comments
Weldone, Damilola, this is deep.
Nice
A very impressive piece