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In Patches…

By @Triumph

In Patches..

They say. Breathe in……Breathe out. 

But what if I do not want to do that anymore. 

I just want to hold my breath so long, that it ceases. 

They say. Laugh. It’s music to the soul. 

What if my soul’s gone deaf. 

What if nothing’s funny anymore. 

In fact, nothing’s been funny for a while. 

what if the only joke in my head, is one of my eyes closed. 

They say…. Write. 

What if each time I pick the pen, it’s bleeding. 

what if I don’t know what to write anymore. 

what if I write about my happy place, but you think it’s sad. 

They say….Sing. It brightens the heart. 

What if my heart dances better in darkness? 

what if my heart prefers it’s rhythm in the echoes of silence?

But I can’t write about these things.

So I tear my lips into a lovely smile. 

Drop a spark in my eyes. 

Modulate my voice. 

My Persona is worn. 

My life is Masquerade party and I’m the freaking Host. 


Oh!! Fudge!!! I slam my Notebook shut. Not today again. 

I’m late for my last class in Bistum University as an English Literature Tutor. 

I rush into class in a not so smart appearance. There’s murmurs, it could be because of my previous article which I titled “Adolescent hormones”, whose content had absolutely nothing to do with that title or could be because their normally elegant tutor just swung into class dressed like a homeless man on her last day. But I really don’t care. I’d like this to be over quickly so I could go for a job interview, then finally let myself think about what I’ve been pushing behind my mind, Home. 

After 7 seven years in Andla, I decide to go home.  

I think about my childhood… the moonlight tales, Mamas yam and oil, grandpa’s motorcycle horn, that mango tree… and I suddenly want to go home. But I know too well that I only love the idea of home….and not home itself.  

I couldn’t get myself to book the flight, but Tam did it. He’s insisting on following me home. This pale skinned beautiful man…. I look at him and i’m disgusted and mad at myself because I feel nothing. He deserves better. But I can’t handle this tide of emotion right now, I’ll take care of that later.  



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