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:
Ucheoma 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.
enock October 10, 2016 07:57
good poetry for sure