By Tomiwa Morris
Scold me not
O treacherous mind.
I tried to forget.
But the bullets of their
spiteful words triggered me. So now
l am back to endure
the eerie dystopia
I so badly wanted to escape. Where
I will defy and resist you
in that cold, familiar chapel.
I’ll repent for running away
from the dark dark crevice
of my black black mind. And
As I conquer that feeling of
emptiness, that shell,
I’ll beg you for forgiveness. For I simply cannot stay.
