I didn’t know stories could be written on the skin
with my blood as ink and whips as pen.
Not until my aunt began writing on my body
Each day, leaving everlasting marks for me to look at
And have a glance at the past
Gruesome nights keeps me awake,
With thoughts of home plaguing my forlorned heart
Laughters of my siblings echoing, haunting my ears
Hagriding memories of mama hovering around me
Hunger sits by my bedside,
humming lullabies that do not lull.
The break of dawn calls for my break down
As rashes and patches made my body their abode
My laughter sounds like an outcry
The chirping birds are my soothing balm
The river in my eyes are dried up
my body smells of pains that the vultures would detest my carcass
My soul needs a place of rest beyond six feet below
But before my rest please take me home.