Read Time:1 Minute, 46 Second
To Heal a Butterfly
A girl feels lost in a home with
no roof to cover her vulnerability
an uncle's hand makes scar across
her flesh, her body a totem of invasion
between the legs lay an ocean of pain
& no one is listening.
To run is a way towards salvation
the picture of home in your mind is
shackle on your feet, with a father's face
bearing wrath, with a mother's touch
holding death, those left behind should
know the strength of pain.
In a different land where a man's touch
can be washed off a body, you bath in a
woman's embrace, listening to the stories
held by a kiss, bathing in a future with
love & peace, home becomes a memory
carrying an uncle holding fire & a family
fanning its embers.
Liberation
you don't have to think about the days you sought to eat death buried under the pupils of your eyes carved by the hands of memory i too know sadness that comes as chain to bind a soul to painful earth like a mother losing her only child to nothing. wailing her veins into turgidity like a warrior weary from battle to find his lover in the arms of another i too. feel as air sometimes. muttering words to God. fidgeting in loneliness. a tank waits to bomb our bodies seeking answers with bullets in-love with ripping flesh saying, a boy must die because he knows happiness & a girl must see the depth of the ocean, without knowing the rudiments of swimming i too. see as the muezzin's voice chases boys. girls. lovers. into the shadows hunting liberation fiercely as the streets shed blood in the name of god.
Mayowa Oladeji writes plays and poems from Nigeria. He enjoys solitude and has recently morphed into what he likes to describe as a crusader for love. He has been published on Spillwords.com, Kalahari Review, Praxis Magazine, Nantygreens, the Melbourne Culture Corner and other literary platforms. Mayowa can be contacted via phone call/WhatsApp at +234(0)8136221448, email: at oladejimayowao@gmail.com, and on X.com at @penfreaq.
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