Cold

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?”

Numb.

Feet can’t move,

Heart stops beating.

I watch a part of me leave.

My soul weeps at the loss of a memory.

Alone.

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.”

Fear.

My enemy, stuck like a brother,

The ghost keeps me awake at night, blanket to my chin,

Too frightened to fight-

“It’s dark.”

Loss.

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