Tourniquet

Look at me:

I’m half man,

half a heart,

the other part

is reeling

on the floor with laughter

while I try to give reason

to what’s left of me to fight.

This pain;

it’s one of the many stings that returns…

Legion that pries me open and rapes my senses

and burns me in agonizing bits

I’m praying,

I’m bleeding

I’m pouring ruby-red regret

on this dying self

I’m screaming, hoarse and untamed,

till they reach the heights above–or if they will

Can You hear me?

Or do You now count me

among the lost and forgotten…

Exiles,

banished to walk

this metal hell of a road?

My God

My tourniquet

let me drink from your salvation’s pool,

to cast upon your white doors

the reflection of a battered soul

In need of the grave,

I dare to close

these misted eyes.

By Uzoma Okoroafor (Nigeria)

picture source: borsheimarts.com