Happiness is an illusion.
It's like purchasing the plane for junior at six
The one mama always tells him will happen
If he takes first at six.
It's like commitment promised by married Kunle
Whilst he was spinning Janet's head
To get her to his side for one night stand
Disappearing like smoke on mountain top
Its possibility is likened to a man proposing love and marriage to another man in Nigeria
It is the taste of orgasm few minutes before John's wife walked in.
To meet what she bragged will never happen
To God, my man is religious. He cheats not.
It's like making an A in Okosodo's class.
The taste of maintaining this state of mind can be likened to sex urge.
The boner falls as it rose, just pray you haven't done the despiteful.
But isn't it like us craving that which we can't have
Reaching to a possibility that we know will not come
What will call happiness is walking on snow bare footed
It's exciting until the feet gets sore.
Then again you're forced to ask why did I even start?
But not so with pain.
Pain is the comfort, like comfort small breasted who will still drag in our head to her bossom to rest from the sting of blossom.
It's that friend you don't want but always he is there, like the stench of faeces on a mad man.
It's that face you meet when everywhere gets cold and you require as little as a pat.
It's like the word reassuring I will never leave you.
It stands out and wait as we laugh and run, or thrust feeling happy
Ever ready to take us back in at night when the day is over.
It's not jealous, as the first wife of an Islam faithful
Who knows that the first is the price and he will still come back.
So she joins in the wedding procession of the newest mata, a supposed rival, but she is too big to argue.
She knows her place in the home.
And doesn't mind a moment of pleasure
For the one she truly loves.
We're told, leave it, forsake it. Crave happiness.
But how do we crave that which is sleek, which coming is like the cumming of Churchill just whilst you need an extra thrust?
Why reach out to a woman that will never be fully yours, despising the one who has pledged fidelity and her blood.
But like humans, the joy of reaching out to making that which can never be ours ours is what we have calculated to be being happy!
You see that time I rested my head and said I never wanted to talk, it was on pain's bossom I laid my frail head, and it's hand massaged my aching nerves to rest.
Pain is that feeling ever present when those you trust become rebels and makes your feelings go numb.
It is by your side, hands on your shoulder when your dreams comes crashing and your CGPA seeks salvation.
Hugged pillows? Scrap it, hug pain. For pain is that which we cuddled when Justina said she is not doing again.
Pain like loads fill you to the brim when hunger decides to remind you that you are not what you claim to be.
It is the First Lady you fall back to when you get a resounding NO for the umpteenth time.
Pain becomes clothe in nakedness
The coal and the fire by the fire stand that warms your cold body, cold with the burdens of life and death.
Pain says I'm here, when everyone says go.
Pain says ruin me, when your anger swells
It says feel me when your feelings numbs
It says I'll still be here in the face of betrayal.
It is pain that offers itself as the sacrifice and the lamb on the altar of frustration when reality dawns on your heart.
It says my destiny is to serve you.
Find comfort here in case you seriously crave it!
So here.
It is said.
When the demand is not available the available becomes the demand.
The available person we finally marry
the available food we finally eat
The available body we get down with
even the available sinners becomes preacher.
It's not a matter of desire but availability
That which says I am amidst emptiness and void.
That which says do with me as you like when others say you don't worth a tear.
That which stays closer, embracing you and your so demons and even asking do you still have more? I'm capable!
It's the available, ever present that finally becomes an ally!
(Poem)
Chines Zoe!
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