Poetry

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By

Emmiasky Ojex

It Hurts

It hurts to know that those who hurt me are free

Living life like they didn’t commit anything like sin

I don’t know! When did the world become this?

Wolf-in-men’s clothing now saunter our streets, proud of their vile deeds

Aunty, you broke me

Your junior brother just because I told you, “I want to wee”

I never knew you would turn wee to becoming we

For what did you rape me?

Uncle, you shattered me

Was it because Aunty wasn’t around

Did I force you to take viagra or be in the mood?

So why did you have to hurt me?

I am but a little spirit

But you turned my little self into a sinful thing

I fear so bad, and I can’t talk about it

For you scare me

“Shh, if you say anything about what transpired on Tuesday,

I will chase you out and without food, you’d say

Of course I don’t want that

But how will I sleep when I know I was hurt by my father?

The man, whose under I came from

Cut me into shattered pieces

So bad that I no longer know where my peace is

But who do I tell?

Of the traumatic nights,

Looking at you in the eye is too hard

Eating with you nauseates me

I feel like vomiting each time your hands touch me

I am hurt, for there are many more who will still be like me today,

Hurt and can do zilch about what the people around them tag, FATE

Please will you help me

Reach out to those who are hurt, like me?

Before they do something drastic

And get tagged WITCH?

I beg of you, let’s reduce the pain together

and make the world better for us, forever.

No to RAPE

#MeToo

The Man Sitting In Front Of You

He’s not a human being – No, he is less than that

He might’ve been the one through whose sperm I permeated into my mother’s vagina

But would you believe me if I told you that he deflowered his product?

And tags it righteous conduct

To take a bite of the material to know it’s worth

And to be the first person to know what’s what and what’s not

That man sitting in front of you was the one who’s made me shame

Since Mum caught him on me the second time, life’s never remained the same

I can’t even call my natal vehicle “Mom”

She’d say “I am not the mother of a whore”

I cannot give birth to a lady

Who’s only dream is to give birth as a baby

But what am I to do when that man sitting in front of you caused all these?

I can’t even tell you the pain I feel when someone calls me by his last name

I have to hold it in each time, in school I have to be called upon by the teacher with that name while being sane

But to whom am I to explain all these?

That the man you call my Father,

has committed murder

towards myself and my mother,

he’s sexed his first daughter

in an attempt to be the first buyer.

Emmiasky Ojex

Emmiasky Ojex is a writer, poet and humanitarian who hails from Nigeria.

Most of his works span around humanitarian acts and “DO YOU” (FOR THE BOY-CHILD) is a poem talking about the need of adults to not neglect the boys in the world as well because they too have pains they pass through.