The Body as Metaphor for War
another rape case echoes around your
news feed. you scroll through the story
& your fingers can almost touch blood.
how much rage can the body keep hostage
until it can no longer be a house to artillery,
until it fires itself into a bulletproof of glass?
rape, too, must be some kind of weaponry.
somewhere / a woman arms her two
daughters—pepper spray for breath /
little knives for fingers.
& again menfolk become synonymous
with chaos. a girl embraces her father
& smells a holocaust on his breath.
a not-all-men-are-the-same monologue /
you contemplate if the gravity of
dead girls outweighs generalisation /
you delete it mid-sentence
& choose to grieve instead.
you, instrument of trauma.
you, equivalent of ruin.
Samuel Adeyemi is an eighteen year old Nigerian writer and an ardent lover of literature. His poems have appeared/are forthcoming in EBOquills, Ghost Heart Literary Journal, Per Happened Mag, The Kalahari Review and elsewhere. When he is not writing, he enjoys watching anime and listening to a variety of music. You may reach him on Twitter and Instagram @samuelpoetry