The first time I asked mom what love is,
the jubilant smile she wore slowly waned,
and her hands scribbled what I presumed to be dad’s handwriting.
So at the age of nine, I was taught love is all about hurting feelings, but never letting go of them.
You might want to refute the above statement,
Or nail me to the cross like my pastor did, when he said Jesus’ death was born out of the same…. love
Where was He when dad left on mom’s body scars from time past?
Till the ghost she had been in her husband’s home finally gave up on her.
Jomiloju, all my life I’ve been in the dark, you could as well say the dark side of the light,
Most times the alarm that woke us was the silent sobs of mom at night,
With each fraction of her tears asking me why she endured till the very end.
I know you must be wondering why I called our relationship a day, two days before our engagement,
You must have cursed me under your breath for making a fool out of you,
One thing my father’s house taught me was to hurt someone’s feelings but not giving up on it.
To love even if it’s going to take your last breath,
So are you willing to risk your sanity for the sake of our love?