Hour 16- Bare Skinned Antenna

Tunde left me for good

Good riddance to bad rubbish

I thought he meant well

I guess he never did

And so to the dark corners of my room I crept

Crying my eyes out in pain

And heartbreaking sorrow

I took liberty on a thought

Though unnecessary and unthinkable

For a sign, I wanted for closure

And so, cropped up my hair in fragment and batches

Till it became skins bare

Afterward, my  head began to act like a detector

What it detects I don’t know

Just a little quarter at the back of the left side

The hair there stands on end

As if waiting to be counted

Goosebumps crops out of my skin

As if I have a crocodile cold skin

What is happening to me?

Why am I feeling this way?


Gone were the heartache and heartbreak

It was like they were never there

But I got something else to think about now

It’s the antenna flickering at the back of my bearskin head.




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