Ifediata Kossy

2021-06-20 05:34 am

Bullet for bunting.

What's in the word,
That the mouth fit not say.
I wield my ink, bleeding words like fire.
Fighting to shave off the frailty you plunged on me.

You used to be unique, very ineffable.
Never knew I was being deluded by wishful thinking.
I fought your fight, abate your fears.
Rather than return a thousand thanks, you fired me with a cacophony of bullets.

You inhaled the oxygen of my love,
While I search in perusal for answers.
Your words, monotonous, left me in a muddled state. 
Like a bullet for bunting, I never saw it coming.

© Ifediata Kosisochukwu