Mojisola Bakare
Lagos, Nigeria
It comes like a shadow Its silhouette threatening
Its formless form crosses the meadow Every dark night, my mind remembering My train of thoughts cripples
My face, taut with countless freckles Legs underneath me, move in wobbles Agitation washes through this mind,
‘Cos I know not where this feeling comes from
It had struck me across the face the day after my prom Like I was thrown hard, on the face, a rotten wet plum Since then
To my skin it had stuck like dried black gum.
With much gratitude
Brooms I’d love to use, sweep far away this tireless shadow A jury I’d constitute, whisk this spirit to the darkest places To set my soul free
To let insecurity in my heart flee To release me
From this spirit of intimidation
Wake me from this sleep of unending depression
‘Cos I cannot remain under perpetual oppression For a victim I will not become
To this dark, faceless apparition.