How do you find home if it never was?
it seats easy on the tongue
maybe that’s why it doesn’t seat here
maybe home was meant for pliable spaces.
I was ten when I first heard the word tomboy
this one is a tomboy o, look at how she’s walking
it sounds like a cross between
neither here nor there
maybe that’s why it seats better.
mother says home is not a place, it’s a feeling
I know rejection, guilt, fear, anxiety
this is how I know I’m home
an unwanted guest in my own body.
have faith they say
if you speak it you will receive it
but how do you wrap your tongue around
a name you do not know?
it’s not a rod between the legs
it’s not gentle curves in imperfect places
it’s a word stuck between pages.
tired of searching for space in closed books,
I whisper a prayer to the builder, take me home.
take me somewhere, anywhere but here,
take me home.
how much for the winds to carry me home?
should I stop at the first cut or the second,
or after I cannot lift the blade anymore?
how deep should I cut
before home finds a place in this story?
Olakitan is a Nigerian writer of short stories, poetry and drama. Her writing is mostly influenced by occurrences around her and her belief in the power of stories.
She has been published online through African writer, Poetica magazine and others.