Christiana Jasutan – ‘Bedtime Story’

I remember that fire that is bright but dark

That glues you to the fiery wall that is your bed

That is both hollow and constricting, crackling

With every spit of anger your parents feed

Each other. They said people kiss

And exchange breaths, but tonight they are too off-

Tuned to pronounce love with fuel and fire in their mouths.

I am pasted to my bed like a to-do-list

Left forgotten in the midst of mad busyness and adulthood

And I stare at my too-young brother who is probably protected

More in his dreams and not our home that is not

A home anymore, because how can I be a refugee in my own home?

I prayed a little child’s pray for them to stop.

I also apologized to God for ruining the innocence inside me.

Hearing all of these

I am now my own parent.

Redbrick x Writers’ Bloc: On the memory stairs