Tuesday, April 21, 2020



A Poem by ChidiJ

It had always been an uphill battle.
'The struggle was real' as they say.
Love was not a bed of roses,
Life was not a fairy tale.
What honeymoon phase?
That was definitely a myth.

Marriage hit me like a ton of bricks, literally.
Jaw dropped.
For five years, maybe seven,
I couldn't believe my ears;
My eyes, they deceive me.
My heart, she hid in fear too afraid to acknowledge her reality.
So, safely tucked away, I matched on.
Head held high.
Chin up.
Shoulders broad.
Smile chiseled on.

I'm fine, don't I look fine?

But the truth, through my thin skin, my chameleon, you betrayed me.
I think they know, they've figured it out.
Therefore, I created a new face to help hide my woes.
After all, I had a good life, highly educated, lucrative career,
financially independent, gorgeous children, born again Christian.

I'm fine, don't I look fine?

But I wasn't.
I perceived death's aroma,
Was the reaper standing by?
Again and again I had tasted pain,
The agony you feel at the exact moment when your heart breaks,
When the pieces crumble to the floor,
Scattered like glass at your feet.
The moment you know that your destiny is Not with bae.
The moment you cannot digest,
When time stops and is filled with a void.
A void that's encased by pain incomprehensible. Argh!

But I'm fine, don't I look fine?

Eureka! I've got it.
No, I no longer want him dead.
No, I no longer believe he did, does, or ever can love me.
No, I'm not at all upset that he's been seeing her, and her, and her.

I'm fine, don't I look fine?

Eureka! I've got it.
I'm smiling!
Wake up! Oh Wow, I AM smiling!
Eureka! I've got it!
I'll get a divorce! 
That's what I'll do.
I'll end the pain.
I'll accept my aloneness.
I'll call a spade a spade.
There is no life left here for me.
And I choose to live!
I'll undo the mistake, daddy.
I'll unmarry the pain, mommy.
I'll save what's left of my beautiful son.

I leave.

And as he slanders,
I hold my head up for my heart smiles again.
I push on because the laughter is back in our home again.
The children sing again.
The children laugh again.
The children even plump up, cheeks get round again.
As the lawyers get fat with my twentie$ of thousand$,
With one last push
I trade in my gems for our freedom.
With one last push,
I hold my breath.
My heart beat stops.

It's June 21st,
The countdown is up.
Please sign on the line.
Stamp. Stamp. Stamp.
Umm, so it's done?
Yes, what were you expecting, fireworks?

Photo by Ralph Rabago from Pexels

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.