Victory O. Okoyomoh
of intangible things
when an intangible thing breaks//its
shards get lodged in your chest. it is sharp
& every breath feels like oxygen is a surgical knife
and the doctor forgot to give you anaesthesia//your screams
are a melody because// when an intangible thing breaks,
you are the doctor and the patient. your body is rolled in
on a bed of resurrected trauma//a voice
says you must perform surgery//or an autopsy
but how do you save yourself when you’re the dying
//dead thing too. when an intangible thing breaks, you
are the undead. mother wakes you at 3am for a
conversation//banal banter//errant exorcism.
she shrieks and shudders//asks what juju you have consumed
and your lips possessed with the witchcraft of depression
will confess:“all the kinds I could find to eat”
when an intangible thing breaks//you become
a bull fighter at a pacifist rally
but you are also the bull//bully//bullied
whatever way, your presence is an inconvenience
and you don’t know a thing about bullfighting. so
you keep crashing into yourself//you walking accident.
once, in a conversation with a friend about something
mundane and moral//my maladjusted
mouth went out of sequence and spurted: my
body is an orchestra of grief but I am not the
conductor//& silence peered into the conversation
like a third wheel at a first date//wrapped itself
around us uninvited and something broke.
shards get lodged in your chest. it is sharp
& every breath feels like oxygen is a surgical knife
and the doctor forgot to give you anaesthesia//your screams
are a melody because// when an intangible thing breaks,
you are the doctor and the patient. your body is rolled in
on a bed of resurrected trauma//a voice
says you must perform surgery//or an autopsy
but how do you save yourself when you’re the dying
//dead thing too. when an intangible thing breaks, you
are the undead. mother wakes you at 3am for a
conversation//banal banter//errant exorcism.
she shrieks and shudders//asks what juju you have consumed
and your lips possessed with the witchcraft of depression
will confess:“all the kinds I could find to eat”
when an intangible thing breaks//you become
a bull fighter at a pacifist rally
but you are also the bull//bully//bullied
whatever way, your presence is an inconvenience
and you don’t know a thing about bullfighting. so
you keep crashing into yourself//you walking accident.
once, in a conversation with a friend about something
mundane and moral//my maladjusted
mouth went out of sequence and spurted: my
body is an orchestra of grief but I am not the
conductor//& silence peered into the conversation
like a third wheel at a first date//wrapped itself
around us uninvited and something broke.
Biography
|
Victory O. Okoyomoh (he/him), also known by the pseudonym Victory Wrights, is a Poet, Content Creator, and Student Optometrist from Edo state, Nigeria. He has published two poetry collections (Love, Life & Poetry and FLOAT) and shares poetry actively on Instagram. When he is not writing or in school, he spends his time listening to music and existing. He is available on Instagram and Twitter @victory_wrights
Twitter: twitter.com/victory_wrights Instagram: instagram.com/victory_wrights |
