When you find yourself awake, again,
At two in the morning wondering when
your body began to mistake fistfuls
of diazepam for aspirin,
And you are sitting in rainwater wanting to call your
Boyfriend—a man, raised by men, raised by men—
Just to hear him scuff at your whimpers as you
Beg him to finally say he loves you,
Or you find yourself cold and alone, in
The small town you swore you would never
Return to, wondering what a two-storey
Fall will do to your spine,
You have been here before.
You will be here again.
You will die as many times as it takes you to live.
And if you only get to live once, it will be enough
Olly Nze is a writer living in Lagos, Nigeria. When he isn’t trying to navigate the madness of the city or tending to his cacti, he writes decent poetry and acceptable prose to keep himself sane.