i keep a pinch of soul
on the nightstand
and leave open the windows
of this room, plagued
with fear of things I don’t know,
of my heart

continually exposed
to grief stricken events.

A bible nestles close,
bold print

advertising ageless stories
we meet briefly
as stares are visited
upon each other,
my mouth folds up a prayer,
holding on
until it is perfectly shaped
to fly across the night
and carry my life
onto the next stretch of days,
because i swallow problems
wide enough to
cause incurable bloatedness,
because every time of day
is a gift to
write knives on my wrists,
because light locks me out
and designs self to deny entry.

I plump up hands
and have them merge
to bear God,
to carry him right inside
the crevices of pain
holed up in my body.
I wonder if his probing eyes
know where to look inside me
i am known to hold out
on things that pile sorrow atop my name,
snowballing into
scenes of a boy
echoing moments saddled with hurt
where commonplace things like prayer requests
wear titles of importance
as i navigate through
the milk & white of moonlight
whipping up courage
to stare God in the eye through cloudy covers.

About the Author :

Michael Ifeanyi Akuchie is a poet who is currently pursuing a degree in English and Literature at the University of Benin, Southern Nigeria. His works have been published in Praxis Magazine, Agbowo, Peculiars Magazine, The Pangolin Review and elsewhere. Michael loves listening to Lana Del Rey, Xxxtentacion and Coldplay. He is a Contributing Editor at Barren Magazine.