Still by Jackson Miyoba

i have been stuck in my chair
since yesterday—
only wanting to down on bits
of my fleeing self.
i want to stay safe within the
loneliest boarders of my
body and sip on a cold cider.
i want to know why mother
was too quick to fall in
love with the earth—
how do you love something
that swallows you
and in the end snatches
oxygen
from your lungs?
i don’t want to give
morsels of my sorrow
to every person whose
eyes will fall on me
when roaming the streets
of Kamwala.
i do not like the art
of sharing my grief. best
i wrap it inside the sheath
of my heart;
scream a little—and
plot ways of extinguishing
the fire.

Jackson Miyoba is a poet and fiction writer. Writing is his mechanism of breathing.