My heart tells me that this grief is undying

& my head nods in obeisance by recounting

yesterday’s blood & water

streams that rolled into bucketfuls behind scathing eyes  

my whipped heart fueled my body with maladies—again  

A body in constant search for an echo of thoughts

it envisions its still-born ambitions.

The universe is a whirling furnace

your boy an arrow pointed to its centre to get burnt.

I’d return to my maker & he might say I was an experiment,

a metaphor for things to come in the everlasting lake.

My alarm never stops chiming to this cold body

that shuts itself, cuts its tongue & slithers into nothingness.

Blood crawling off my face behind closed doors

could be my second chance at healing.

To resort to this temporal act of bliss

is to patiently await the response of my maker.

may tongues not wag: boys don’t cry!

may I be excused to scream & groan & gnash.

Uchenna Edwin Eze is an undergraduate student of English at UNN. An emerging screenwriter with a soon to be produced web series to his name, he writes shabby poems in his down moments and is deeply fascinated by art. He has works featured in fiction Niche mag and elsewhere.