Dreamer



Sometimes I feel this is what my life will amount to
Bottom brunt
Leftover love
Surface satisfaction

I feel
As though I won’t be like the other girls
Who get a whirlwind kind of romance
And have perfect shoes
Perfect hair
Perfect lip-sticked smiles
With tinged accents
And open personalities

I am
The 26 year old who lives in a BQ
And still needs her mother to love on her
And her father to reassure her
The masters degree holder wasting away with each passing day

I am
The poet without a platform
The activist without a voice
The shy lover

Yet I have the wildest dreams
The biggest desires
But sitting on my single bed
In a room ravished by eerie-looking wall geckos
In the middle of Rumuokurshi
Makes me feel every bit a failure
As though all I am is a dreamer
A dead dreamer with rhetoric dreams

Maybe this is self pity
Maybe this is a prayer
Maybe I will amount to something more than I am today
Maybe it will all end well
And I will die empty of the treasures deposited in me
Perhaps
But until then
I am just a dreamer
A dreamer
With audacious dreams

Comments

  1. This should be re-captioned 'Me David'.

    Reminds me of a time, before I got a job. And a semblance of a life, I felt my life go away. I felt the promise I thought I was ebb away. I felt my very humanity wane.
    I was hurt every morning when ppl scurried to their jobs, and I had absolutely nothing to look forward to. Just the house and its hollowness and tons and tons of books and even that too soon held no interest.
    So I found solace in paper and ink, and the Blessed Sacrament, good catholic that I am, in the end, it worked out. It was an ordinary December evening when I got that call about an interview…
    It all worked out, it will work out.

    PS,
    I had an exercise book I wrote my agonies and joys and disappointments and everything that came with that period, a friend read it not long ago and declared it ‘psalms’ for it was a collection of prayer, wonder and the occasional questioning of what obtains. I titled that little book “ME, DAVID”, hence my suggestion.
    Be of good cheer, joy will come.

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