Shivers run down my spine like fingers on a dead winter’s night,
My lips frozen, skin shut tight like epileptic teeth-
Words buried, unspoken,
“Its zero degrees in here
Or am I just dreaming?
The sun is still overhead,
Why am I freezing?”
Feet can’t move,
Heart stops beating.
I watch a part of me leave.
My soul weeps at the loss of a memory.
No one in sight, empty plains,
Tears no one can wipe away stream down my soaking cheeks;
My screams are mere whispers, no more than soundless echoes,
Whispers no one can hear,
“I reach out but can’t feel a thing.”
My enemy, stuck like a brother,
The ghost keeps me awake at night, blanket to my chin,
Too frightened to fight-
I know that word only too familiarly,
A well of torment well unleashed.
Flowing in its torrents, swiftly running currents,
I float along, log of body wood-
“I lost me in you.”
Mfon Etuk, 2015