By: Okoli Stephanie Orjiugo (O.S.O)
Level:1
(1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)
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The heartbeats: lub-dub
A sound that testifies to the presence of a soul still in a body
A sound that remains oblivious to the ears; unaware of its steady pounding
Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub
Suddenly the intensity of this heartbeat is heard by your own very ears
Pulses increase, hands become sweaty, and butterflies find a lily garden in your tummy
You have been diagnosed with the symptoms of love.
What then becomes of you with your severe ailment?
Is your ailment contagious enough that your lover suffers so with you?
What happens when you become cured? Do you remain the same?
Will you ever have a relapse?
Love is like a cancer
You feel its metastatic prowess as it crawls into every inch of your body
Growing and multiplying its effects like an oncogene that cannot be turned off
Sometimes you feel helpless
Helpless that your body has been invaded without your consent
Just like cancer, love is a fight
You have to wear an armor of strength
Wade buckling knees that
Wish to fall unto the floor of desperation
You choose to stay afloat even when drowning in a sea of angst
You choose to be consistent in your actions even when everything around you is in disarray
You choose to
Because when you can no longer feel the shape of your lips when you smile
No longer feel
The light that exudes from your eyes with a playful dance that captures soulful images
No longer remember
How you used to be before the great invasion
Then it is your power of choice that lets your peeling patience be gratified
In a place where lub-dub is pacified
(1 votes, average: 4.00 out of 5)Loading...
