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You wake up, greeted by a constellation of lights.

Are these stars, are you in heaven, are you finally dead?

Your eyes, adjusting to the lights, realizing, it’s a hospital ward.
You try to remember how you got here.

What do you remember?

Your mouth, swollen shut from all the years of not speaking out.
Your mouth spilling all the things it had held back.

Your words, strange to your ears, accusing, berating, complaining, deciding, no more, no more.

His fist, in your mouth.
Your tongue, tasting warm blood.
Your mouth spitting out a tooth.
Your eyes, watering.
Your heart, breaking.
His fists, everywhere.
All over your body.

Your hands, shielding your eyes.
His hands, prying them away, seeking your eyes, pummeling.

Your vision, fading, fading, faded….

Your body, writhing, bleeding, praying rejecting.

This can’t be love, this can’t be love.

Your consciousness, fading.
Your consciousness, returning.
A constellation of lights.
Are you in heaven?

 

 

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

Post image by jason jenkins via Flickr.

About the Author:

portrait2-imieghaPhidelia Imiegha loves to read and sleep. The most important thing to her are words; reading and writing them. Most of her work can be found on her personal blog phideliaimiegha.com.

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One Response to “A Constellation of Lights | by Phidelia Imiegha | African Poetry” Subscribe

  1. onoedosio 2017/02/01 at 23:48 #

    Aye. Intense stuff. I felt this. Heading to your blog ASAP.

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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.

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