Permission Granted, Go But Don't Leave! Poem by Aba Radical

Permission Granted, Go But Don't Leave!


This poem, or whatever
It qualifies to be called
At the time it was written
Was untitled, unedited
And unfinished for fear that
I might actually wet the words

I choose to do this over watching a movie
I choose to do this than to mourn
My failure in an interim assessment test today
I choose to do this uncomfortably lying on the sofa
Over sleeping on my side of the bed
I choose to do this until sleep decides to overcome
My habit of cheating nature
Under the pretence of insomnia
I choose to do this, deep in the night, risking another Bunch of episodes of sleep paralysis from which
I will wake up the next morning feeling like I had just died

I've always had the panic of you leaving
But I've never imagined you leaving
And I have tried psyching and preparing myself
For it and proudly failed doing so, miserably

Very soon, you'd be done with your final year of school, No, final semester, as you always liked to call it
For you the best thing about this semester is that
There isn't going to be any other and for me
Getting to see you leave the four walls
That was too small to contain you anyways
Is the best thing about my panic of you leaving

You'd soon be clothed with a black gown which contrary To the Ghanaian culture will not represent absence by Death, but rather absence to greater presence
You'd have your honours; the trophy for your parents investment
The area around your neck will be vibrantly stripped
With blue, white, orange and the
Vertical edges of the gown, a dash of Kente (Ghanaian traditionally woven cloth)
And you will look like you always have been
You will look good in you
Accompanying your new haircut will be shoes
That always took you to good places
Your smile will be deeper and wider
Causing your cheeks to hurt exactly the same way
You caused my facial muscles to be
But you can't stop yourself
Yes you will finally make it
That day the reason for your whiter smile
Won't be as a result of your up to date
Dental hygiene but your happiness

When you go, will I survive?
When you go, will you also leave?
When you go, will you even remember me?

You are my "best of every thing"
There were days I felt you were all I needed though that was probably just my thoughts just playing with me
Then there were days I pretended I didn't need you anyways
There were also days that I left you in your state of ignorance
Because I wanted to enjoy the drama that came out of it
But never did I ever enjoy the comedy of errors I left you in
Though it is my favorite type of drama

I've never liked the space between you and I
But It's something I have to get used to
I've to get used to your absence
I've to not get used to your heart beat which will slowly And eventually fade away from my hearing into dead distance silence
I've to not get used to your croaky voice I still enjoy and Hope that you'd at least try everything, everything
To give me a call without me trying so hard to seek your attention
I've to not get used to those hands that shake me like
My blood wasn't in my body but a container
That never allowed it to circulate
You always shook my body literally, like my heart
Wasn't doing a good job with its circulation function
You shook me to manifest what you've always been
A life support.
I've to not get used to that body
That provided warmth when i was cold on the inside
I've to not get used to that smile
That told me everything was going to be always okay
I've to not get used to that shoulder of your oversized coat in my favorite color
That was there to soak and absorb my tears and pain
I've to not get used to that voice
That says my name in a way that no one else says it
And oh I listen for it everyday
I'll never get tired of hearing it.

I'm not done talking
I'll sneeze
But I'll continue because
No matter how hard I cry
I'd have to pause and sneeze at some point.

And i don't know why
The only way I could write this was in tears
I don't know why but I do know that
The best of all reasons are
The ones we are unable to explain
But hey, I wet the writing paper
And not the words.

Aba Radical
The Photographer of Thoughts
Fb: Mercy Aba Blankson
Twitter: @aba radical
IG: Aba Radical
+233249953609
Comment, Like and Share
#AbaIssaRadicalWriter