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I am a heart collector

Hanging the artefacts of every misadventure
Now my walls groan
Under the weight of each pain I’ve created

Mathew,
The room you made for me was too small
I was too tall for the bed you laid for me

Mark
I am not worth your ‎tears
I am not worth your sleepless nights

Luke,
This anger will corrode ‎ your mind
Selling our story to press won’t make you rich

Dear John,
Forgive me‎ but I waited for you to evolve
Not many women know how to mother grown men

I am a collector of hearts
Haunted by the relics of each misadventure
And  nightly, my walls weep
For every pain I’ve created

 

**********************

Image by Natalie Hegert via Flickr.

About the Author:

Portrait - UcheomaUcheoma O‎nwutuebe is a Nigerian writer whose works have been published in Litmagazine,Australia,The Sentinel Nigeria,Y!Naija and other national dailies. She blogs at www.ucheomaonwutuebe.blogspot.com.

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I hold a doctorate in English from Duke University and recently joined the Marquette University English faculty as an Assistant Professor. I love teaching African fiction and contemporary British novels. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

4 Responses to “Heart Collector | by Onwutuebe Ucheoma | African Poetry” Subscribe

  1. Oyin Oludipe 2015/01/14 at 10:22 #

    My very-cherished Uche…

  2. Carl Terver 2015/01/14 at 14:03 #

    Though very good at prose your poetry is, it has this liquidity about it.

  3. Salisu 2015/01/14 at 14:38 #

    I like it.

  4. enock 2016/10/10 at 07:57 #

    good poetry for sure

Leave a Reply

I hold a doctorate in English from Duke University and recently joined the Marquette University English faculty as an Assistant Professor. I love teaching African fiction and contemporary British novels. Brittle Paper is the virtual space/station where I play and experiment with ideas on how to reinvent African fiction and literary culture.

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