Not Again

His honk woke me
As trepidation fills
My bosom like fresh ember
Razing down an edifice.

He started moons ago
As he crept into my bed
To take away the life
He gifted me via pleasure.

His return every dusk
Comes with agonies
And I’ve become a rose
Amongst thorns and thistles.

Palsied mum muted
Like a dumb striving
To talk but nothing coming out
I need help not to see him again.

Bard Tosin Morakinyo

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