The Colour of Breakfast—Okolo Chinua
Okolo Chinua is a writer who writes for many reasons, the beauty of tomorrow being the foremost. Currently, he lives and writes from the suburbs of Onitsha, Anambra state, Nigeria.
THE COLOUR OF BREAKFAST
(A Psalm for the Brokenhearted)
In the dawn of my wake there's a system dawdling,
in mannerisms and abbreviations known to the awoken.
For fear lies not ahead but within, an enclosure of boxed openings..
Let there then be a sea, that the staff might part into halves..that the asleep may rise...
What colour is breakfast?
First it's tailless,
An unnecessary beam of silence beclouding,
Like the welcome of two soulful birds departing..
Heaven is here and hell is here,the latter being the abode,
And everything rings out continuously in a seemingly quiet room...
In my wake you lie, now as a memory to be returned to, for pleasure, for pain,
With each glance I return to your arms, your smile, soulful and beaming,
I capture every moment, entrap every feeling, surrender to every song, remain defenceless at your sight, hold on to every kiss capturing as much as I can, as well as I can...
I know one day you'll become a memory I return to for a sip of pleasure, for a sip of pain...
That you may find another better I wish you not,
I wonder the bravity of ones who wish good when those wishes come from a broken place..
There are no clothes on me now and every stare burns through my skin..
every song holds me captive..
Every picture returns me to tears..
I want to blame the world, I want to blame you, I want to blame me, but none of these all done bring relief..
I burn your memories and return scarred, except these scars return to life the memories already burnt...
At evenings I walk into places deemed scary, deemed inhabitable, in an attempt that something might find me and take me out of this mortal plane...
And everything I look at reminds me of you..
So I'll say you a prayer,
That you be happy,
That though your heart ever-red, never darkens,
That these emotions that now bind me in ever-serving enslavement, never find you,
That you be loved in whatever halls you step into,
That your heels remain strong, your heart, wise and your brain, calm...
Like a melodic song on constant repeat, that I may never forget you...