Koromone Koroye
Writer. Creative Thinker. I teach English 5 days a week, and sometimes, I might write a poem or six, depending on my mood. Passionate Nigerian. Go Figure.
Please, Control Your Bleeding.
My parents do not believe in band-aids, bandages, or spirits.
They cut you and then sit in the midst of the blood, avoiding the dark-red puddles, leaving you to control the bleeding.
Mother walks with a belly pregnant with words- criticisms, insults, commendation — swelling and growing.
Father remains quite, a shy ocean enjoying the calm and heat of the sun.
Even after the first cut has been made
Even after the surprisingly dull pain spreads
Even after the wound opens, exposing everything
My parents do not rush to my side to offer a band-aid or a bandage or a gauze or a spirit
They remain seated:
One, pregnant with words,
The other, quiet and stagnant.
And I am left to control the bleeding.
