There's something about shame.
You just know there's no win for you in the game.
If life was a game, I was a sure loser.
One whose brain became duller and duller,
With every passing day.
I wish I knew the way.
The way to end this game.
I have subconsciously become a puppet of shame.
My eyes were dizzy and I felt drowsy.
My hair and clothes screamed frowzy.
It was like I was cast on a dizzy spell.
Wait a minute.. What was that smell?
Why did everything seem irritable?
I burped and hit my hands loudly on the table.
"Kamsi? Are you listening to me?"
My mother asked me.
This was one of those days she gave her pep talk.
No, I wasn't ready to talk.
I held my stomach without looking up.
All I wanted to do was throw up.
I stood up and hurriedly ran from the corridor,
Through the parlor,
And went straight to the bathroom.
I threw up and messed up the walls
It was like I had worms in my stomach walls.
But I knew what this was.
I knew my life was about to pause.
Nothing seemed worse than this.
How do I tell my mother about this?
It would break her more than she is.
Shatter her more than she is.
"Kamsi, biko open up the door.."
She begged behind the bathroom door.
"Are you okay?" I could hear the worry in her voice.
I cried profusely as I knew I had to make a choice.
What if I just kill myself right here and now?
Would things get any better than now?
Just.. WHAT IF?
YOU ARE READING
WHAT IF?
PoetryLife is full of "what ifs". There's no end to it's uncertainty. This narrative poetry, entails how Kamsi's life mirrors a gruesome childhood, fear of the unknown, violence, bitterness as well as the painful process that comes with the journey towa...
